Todos los capítulos de DIVORCED, BUT SPOILED BY MY FIVE BROTHERS : Capítulo 101 - Capítulo 110

Flora’s Point of ViewI stood by the roadside long after Rowan’s car disappeared into traffic. The sound of the engine faded, swallowed by the evening hum of tires on asphalt and the faint rustle of trees along the boulevard. But the feeling it left behind didn’t fade. He hadn’t looked back. Not once. Not even out of courtesy.For a moment, I told myself it didn’t matter. Rowan had always needed space after conflict. He would cool down. He would think. He would return. I had told myself that often enough to believe it, once.But the certainty I used to rely on wasn’t there anymore.What unsettled me wasn’t that he defended Janet. He hadn’t, not exactly. What unsettled me was that he hadn’t defended me either. He had chosen distance. Neutrality. And that distance carved a hollow in my chest that no explanation could fill.I walked slowly back into my apartment, feeling the weight of silence press against my shoulders. The door clicked shut behind me, and for a moment, I just stood ther

Janet’s Point of ViewI stood there, exposed. No mask. No persona. There was no distance left between who I was and who he thought I might be. “Janet?” Rowan’s voice carried through the noise of the venue, not loud, but sharp enough to cut through everything else. There was shock in it, and something heavier I didn’t dare define. I didn’t move at first. He stepped closer, slowly, as if approaching something fragile—or dangerous. For one reckless second, I almost turned fully toward him. Almost let him see everything written plainly on my face. Instead, I pivoted away and forced my voice into steadiness. “I need to check something backstage,” I told the chief waitress, keeping my hands loosely clasped so he wouldn’t see the tension in them.Before Rowan could close the distance, a businessman intercepted him, calling his name with professional urgency. “Mr. Thayer, we need to finalize the partnership figures.” Rowan hesitated, and I felt that hesitation like a physical pull at my back.

Janet’s Point of ViewPeter finally stabilized the day after the concert. The steady rhythm of the monitor beside his bed was the most reassuring sound I had heard in hours. I had barely left his side the entire night, watching his breathing, checking his pulse, forcing him to stay conscious whenever his body threatened to slip back into exhaustion. Whatever had been slipped into his drink had been powerful, but slowly, steadily, his system fought it off. By morning, the worst had passed.When Peter opened his eyes fully, his gaze found me almost immediately. “You stayed,” he said hoarsely. I gave him a small smile. “Of course I did.” He studied my face for a moment, as though replaying the events of the previous night in his mind. “I heard what happened,” he said quietly. “You handled the concert.” I lifted one shoulder in a tired shrug. “Someone had to.” A faint breath of laughter escaped him. “You saved the entire event.”The door opened before I could respond, and Jasper stepped i

Rowan’s Point of ViewTwo days had passed, yet the feeling refused to leave me.Something about Janet was wrong. Not wrong in the sense of danger—wrong in the sense of secrecy. Like there was a layer of her life I had never seen, something hidden just beneath the surface. Ever since the café, the thought had been sitting in the back of my mind like a splinter I couldn’t pull out.The moment I asked if she knew Jinx, her reaction had been too sharp. Too quick.Fear.It had flashed across her face before she could hide it.I had tried to bury the thought under work. Meetings, contracts, negotiations—anything that could drag my attention somewhere else. But every quiet moment brought the memory back.The voice from the concert.The tension in Janet’s eyes.The possibility that the two were somehow connected.In the end, I did what I always did when something didn’t make sense.I investigated.The private investigators I hired spent two days digging through Janet’s recent activities. Wher

Janet’s Point of ViewI had been staring at the same page of my thesis for nearly three hours.The words blurred together until they stopped making sense. My notes filled half the desk, yet every time I thought I was close to connecting the ideas, the argument slipped apart again. I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my eyes, feeling the dull ache that had been building behind them since morning.The coffee beside me had gone cold hours ago. I took a sip anyway, grimacing at the bitter taste.Research was supposed to be satisfying when the pieces began to fall into place.Tonight it felt like I was chasing smoke.I pushed the notebook aside and stretched my stiff shoulders. The apartment was quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the desk lamp and the occasional car passing outside.Just as I was about to return to the page again, a knock sounded at the door.I frowned.No one usually came by unannounced.When I opened the door, a delivery man stood in the hallway holding a medium-siz