Todos os capítulos de Billionaire Ex Wants Her Back .: Capítulo 41 - Capítulo 50

Danielle's Point of ViewThe evening light bled through the tall windows, casting golden streaks across the study. The silence was thick, filled with the weight of everything left unsaid. I stood near the bookshelf, fingers brushing against the spines of leather-bound volumes I hadn't dared to touch since I arrived. My reflection in the glass stared back at me, hollow-eyed and regal, cloaked in the armor Michael had taught me to wear.He entered without a word. His footsteps were slower than usual, deliberate. I didn’t turn. Not yet."You canceled the board meeting," I said, watching the window."They didn’t need me there today."I turned slowly, finding his eyes already on mine. There was something different about the way he looked at me now—like he was seeing a version of me he hadn't planned for."You left without saying anything this morning.""I needed to think."His jaw tensed, the lines of his face sharp under the fading light. "And did you? Think?""Too much."He moved closer,

Danielle's Point of ViewThe rain had not stopped for hours. It bled against the windows in thick sheets, streaking down the glass like the sky itself was grieving. I stood by the tall window of Michael's study, my arms folded tightly, pulse ticking in my throat. The storm outside couldn’t rival the one inside me.Behind me, I heard the soft click of the door opening. His footsteps were slow, deliberate. I didn’t turn."It was never supposed to go this far," Michael said. His voice carried the weight of something unspoken—regret, maybe. Or resignation.I kept my gaze on the rain. "But it did. And now we're standing in the ashes."He moved closer, but not enough to touch me. Just near enough that I could feel the warmth of his presence creep up my spine."You knew what this was from the beginning," he said, voice low.I turned, finally, and met his eyes. There was no hatred in mine. Only exhaustion. "Did I? Or did you make me believe I could stay in control? That I wouldn’t fall into t

Danielle’s Point of ViewThe day slipped by in a blur of muted colors and restless thoughts. I stood by the windowsill, the city breathing beneath me, alive and unconcerned, while inside my chest everything churned.Michael's words from the morning clung to me like a second skin. "Maybe it's time we stopped running." Easy to say when you’ve always known how to win. Harder when every step forward felt like walking blindfolded through a minefield.Behind me, the low rumble of his voice drifted through the crack in the study door. He was on another call, his tone clipped, dangerous. Whatever he was plotting, it bore the weight of finality.I leaned my forehead against the glass, the cold biting into my skin. How did we get here? Two people who once needed each other for survival now needing each other for something much messier. Something without rules or contracts to guide us.The door creaked open. His footsteps were unhurried, but there was tension in the air, coiling tighter with eve

Danielle’s Point of ViewThe house felt different after Michael’s promise.Not safer.Just... sharper.Like the walls themselves were waiting for the first crack to splinter wide open.I stood by the fire, the low flames casting long, distorted shadows across the library walls. My arms were wrapped tight across my chest, as if holding myself together would stop the unraveling happening inside.Michael leaned against the doorway, silent, watching.Always watching.I didn’t ask if he meant it—that vow of no more lies.Some part of me already knew he did.But trust wasn’t a switch I could flip.It had to be earned.And tonight, something inside me braced for the test.He pushed off the wall and crossed the room in a few easy strides, the movement casual, but his jaw set hard enough to crack stone."They’re moving," he said.My hands tightened around my arms. "Who?"He stopped just short of me, the firelight flickering in his eyes. "Oliver’s people. They made contact with someone inside H

Michael’s Point of ViewThe silence of early morning wasn’t peaceful—it was a suspended breath. One that hadn’t decided whether to sigh in relief or brace for a scream.Danielle had fallen asleep beside me on the couch sometime after 3 a.m., her head resting lightly against my shoulder, the soft weight of her presence anchoring me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed. Her hand still clutched mine like she feared letting go would shatter everything we’d just begun to piece together.I didn’t move. Not because I was afraid of waking her, but because I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to disturb this rare moment of stillness—of trust.The city outside our window had started to stir, orange light bleeding through the blinds, casting gold across her cheekbones. Even in sleep, there was something strong in her expression. Something that reminded me of the girl who’d stormed into my life demanding answers I didn’t want to give, and the woman who now sat in silence, holding me accountable with ju