Semua Bab Her Billionaire Ex-Husband's Regret: Bab 71 - Bab 80

Chapter 72: A Price for the Flame It arrived like temptation—sleek, smooth, and dangerous.A crisp ivory envelope. No return address. Just an embossed gold logo that whispered wealth: The Nexus Future Foundation—a global giant in philanthropy, known for handing out million-dollar checks like candy to “safe” causes.Sophia hesitated.She hadn’t submitted any applications. Hadn’t lobbied for funding. But curiosity edged its way in.She tore it open.Read the letter.Then read it again.“We are deeply moved by your work with The Fire We Share.In recognition of your impact, we wish to offer a $1,000,000 grant.No proposals. No pitches.Just one small shift:Reframe the movement toward empowerment-based programming that avoids explicitly triggering content.We believe in uplifting—not upsetting—narratives for wider appeal.”Sophia stared at the words.They read like generosity.But between the lines was a silent demand:“Stop talking about rape.”Clara nearly dropped her coffee cup.“Tel

Chapter 74: Power in a New Dress It didn’t arrive like a dream.It came like a reckoning.Delivered by courier, cloaked in weight—an envelope sealed in government ink, stamped with the kind of authority that makes the air feel heavier.Sophia stared at it for nearly twenty minutes.Unread. Untouched.Then she finally peeled it open—heart racing, palms damp.Dear Miss Grant,Following careful deliberation, and in recognition of your impact across gender advocacy and trauma response, the Presidency wishes to nominate you as the incoming Minister of Women and Child Welfare.Your fire has moved a nation. We believe it can reform our institutions.Sincerely,Secretary to the Government of the Federation.She sat motionless, paper trembling in her hand.A cabinet seat.Real power.The kind that doesn’t just challenge systems—it changes them.That night, she read the letter aloud to Clara, who dropped her spoon into her bowl like it had bitten her.“Wait—like… actual government? Cabinet-lev

The morning hadn’t even stretched into full daylight when Clara burst into Sophia’s office, phone in hand, face carved with worry.“You need to see this,” she said, placing the screen gently but urgently on Sophia’s desk.The headline pulsed at the top of a national blog:“Former Billionaire’s Mother Breaks Silence: ‘Sophia George Is a Threat to Stability’”Sophia’s eyes narrowed. Her fingers stiffened around the ceramic mug.Below it played a video of Camilla Hart,Liam’s mother. Poised. Perfectly coiffed in her signature bun and pearl necklace. But her words were sharp enough to cut steel.“She hides behind a cause,” Camilla said with a measured sneer. “But underneath it is a bitter, emotionally unstable woman who tried to destroy my son’s life. She doesn’t belong in government. She belongs in therapy.”Sophia didn’t flinch.But inside,something cracked.This wasn’t just character assassination.It was psychological warfare.By midday, the video had saturated the internet.TikTok edi

Chapter 78: The Grave of Truth The wind howled low through brittle trees, carrying with it the scent of red dust and long-forgotten sorrow as Sophia stepped onto the scorched earth of the graveyard in Zaria.It had taken her nearly a lifetime to get here.Years blurred into memories,years spent whispering Mariam’s name like a sacred vow, forging sanctuaries from shadows, raising voices from the silence, lighting torches in the darkness for girls who’d been buried alive in silence and shame. Sophia had built an entire world on grief and justice. But never had she stood before the grave that started it all.Until now.Clara had offered to come. So had Ralia. But this wasn’t a journey she could share. This was a pilgrimage meant for one heart alone.She moved slowly past rows of sun-bleached tombstones, through a maze of unmarked graves, forgotten names, and splintered wooden crosses. The silence here was suffocating—too loud for comfort, too sacred to break.And then she saw it.Mariam

CHAPTER 80The subject line was strange,just a crown emoji and a question mark. Sophia hovered over it, breath caught somewhere in her throat. She clicked.International Peace Prize Nomination ,Confirmation & Media BriefShe blinked, once, then again. Read it a third time just to be sure.They were serious.One of the world’s most revered recognitions for impact, justice, and reform—and her name was on the list. They were honoring The Fire We Share, her policies, her cross-border healing work, the noise she had dared to make for those forced into silence.They wanted a bio. A headshot. A video message. By Friday.Clara screamed into a cushion so loud the next office heard it. Ralia danced across the room like she'd won a lottery. Owen sent a string of fireworks emojis and a single voice note: “You did this. You.”Sophia smiled. “We did.” Her voice was barely a whisper.But before she could even enjoy the glow of that moment, her phone buzzed again.A new message. No contact name. Just