All Chapters of Her Billionaire Ex-Husband's Regret: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Chapter 82: The Timing of Fire Sophia’s plane sliced through the dawn sky and touched down just as Abuja yawned awake, stretching beneath the watercolor haze of first light. The city still slumbered, its breath shallow, as shadows receded into the birth of another day.At arrivals, Clara waited,not with a hug or words of comfort, but with two steaming cups of bitter coffee and a look that burned with quiet triumph and tightly wound caution.“She’s done,” Clara said sharply as they slid into the backseat of the ministry’s discreet black sedan. “We have everything, the server logs, the original drafts, the payment trail. It all points to Camilla’s firm. She planted that proposal in Nairobi to make it look like you were the one getting your hands dirty.”Sophia gripped the paper cup, eyes trained on the blur of streets and buildings outside, her face calm but unreadable.“Then we go public,” she said, her voice a blade sheathed in velvet. “Today.”Clara paused. That pause said everythin

Chapter 84: The Crack in Her ArmorCamilla Hart had built her reputation like a fortress,brick by brick, each word carefully chosen, every public move rehearsed to perfection. She moved through boardrooms and broadcasts with the poise of a queen who’d never known defeat.But paranoia, oh paranoia is a thirsty beast. And when it sinks its teeth in, even the most polished hands begin to tremble.Two days after the panel, Camilla slipped.Her first real misstep.And the world was watching.It crept into the media sphere under the cover of night,a so-called “exclusive interview” on a fringe late-night channel known more for controversy than credibility.The lighting was harsh, Camilla’s eyes too bright, her eyeliner drawn on like war paint.“Sophia George has a long-standing habit of bending the rules,” she declared, voice tight, sharp. “This talk of forged documents? A convenient smokescreen. The real story lies in her ministry’s past.”The host leaned in, licking his lips like a man sme

Chapter 86: The Fingerprint Inside Sophia Grant had never been one to hand out trust like candy. Especially not when the intel came from Lucas,the man with too many shadows in his wake.So the next morning, she did what she always did when the stakes were too high to play loose: she locked herself away with Clara and Ralia in the ministry’s secure records room. No distractions. No noise. Just cold, hard evidence laid bare under fluorescent lights and sharpened gazes.The table was cluttered with damning paperwork,bank transfers, shell company filings, encrypted wire confirmations. The kind of evidence that didn’t whisper corruption.It screamed.Clara’s finger slid down one of the transaction sheets. “Look at this,” she murmured. “Quarterly deposits like clockwork. Mauritius account, set up three years ago.”Sophia leaned in, narrowing her eyes.“But this one…” Clara tapped a particular line. “It’s different. This one came from a Nigerian personal account. Not corporate.”Ralia’s voi

Chapter 88: Smoke Over the WaterBy the start of the week, Abuja was humming with headlines.The Hart Foundation’s New Humanitarian Drive“Camilla Hart Promises Housing for the Displaced”She stood center stage,glossy smile, polished speech, perfectly framed beneath a banner reading:Rebuilding Futures: Housing for Displaced FamiliesShe shook hands with community leaders, pledged “full transparency,” and posed for photographers like a saint in silk.It was dazzling.It was dishonest.And it was working.Clara dropped three newspapers onto Sophia’s desk, each more fawning than the last. “She’s buying herself a halo.”Sophia barely glanced at the headlines. “No. She’s buying time. And hiding her financial trail under a pile of bricks and mercy.”Ralia entered, eyes glued to her tablet. “She’s fragmenting the transfers,tiny amounts, multiple currencies, different jurisdictions. Mauritius, Liechtenstein, Cyprus. By the time her housing project ‘breaks ground,’ the real money will be untr

Chapter 90By Monday morning, Sophia’s path was no longer clouded by hesitation or indecision. The strategy was crystal clear, burning in her mind like a blueprint drawn in fire,Camilla couldn’t fall until Danladi’s shadow was gone. If she wanted to bring Camilla down, she’d have to strike at the man shielding her, crack the armor before aiming for the heart.This wasn’t about blunt force,it was precision. Whispered doubt. Subtle sabotage. Small moves with seismic impact.The first blow didn’t even feel like one.Over tea in the Council lounge, she let her voice drift casually across the table. “Anyone else notice the delays in Danladi’s infrastructure reports?” she asked, letting her question float like idle curiosity.Later that afternoon: “Odd how his budgets keep swelling without explanation. Paperwork’s always late, isn’t it?”She never mentioned fraud. Never said “embezzlement” or “misconduct.” She didn’t need to. The human brain fills in the silence faster than any accusation.