All Chapters of DIVORCED, BUT SPOILED BY MY FIVE BROTHERS : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Flora’s Point of View My phone rang a few minutes later.Claire.I stared at the screen for a second before answering.“Flora, where are you?” Claire’s voice came through brightly. “Tiffany and I are at that café you like. Come join us.”I hesitated, glancing around the silent apartment.“Claire… I’m a little busy right now,” I said, rubbing my temple.“Oh come on,” she replied immediately. “It’s just a girls’ hangout. Nothing serious. We’re just sitting here talking.”I didn’t respond right away.My head was still spinning from everything that had happened.“Flora?” Claire pressed. “You’ve been stressed lately. Come out for a bit. You need a break.”I exhaled slowly.Maybe she was right.Sitting alone in the apartment wasn’t helping anything.“Fine,” I said finally.“That’s the spirit,” Claire said cheerfully. “Hurry up. We’re waiting.”The café was crowded when I arrived, the late afternoon rush filling most of the tables with chatter and the smell of fresh coffee.Tiffany spotted

Chapter 113Janet’s Point of ViewThree days had passed since I arrived at the hospital, and in all that time I hadn’t left the building.The hours had blurred together into something shapeless and exhausting—long stretches of silence broken only by the quiet hum of machines and the occasional footsteps of nurses moving through the hallway.I sat beside my mother’s bed, my fingers loosely wrapped around her hand.The heart monitor beside her beeped steadily, a slow mechanical rhythm echoing through the room like a fragile promise that she was still here.The sterile smell of disinfectant hung in the air. The fluorescent lights above never dimmed, making it impossible to tell when day ended and night began.My reflection in the dark screen of the monitor startled me.I barely recognized the woman staring back.My face looked thinner. Pale. My eyes were ringed with deep shadows that sleep alone wouldn’t fix.My body felt hollow with exhaustion.Maybe it was the pregnancy.Or maybe it wa

Janet’s Point of ViewAs my mother’s condition worsened with each passing day, hope became something fragile—something that slipped through my fingers no matter how tightly I tried to hold on to it. It no longer felt steady or dependable. It felt like glass—thin, breakable, ready to shatter at the slightest touch.Professor Collins’s friend was no longer just an option.He was my only chance.When I brought the idea to my brothers, they didn’t hesitate—not even for a second. There were no questions, no doubts, no attempts to soften the reality of what we were facing. Just action. Immediate and decisive.Dickson and Peter moved quickly, pulling every connection they had, chasing down leads that seemed to vanish as soon as they appeared. It wasn’t easy. The trail was cold, scattered, almost as if the man didn’t want to be found.But my brothers didn’t stop.They never did.By the time they finally found an address, something unfamiliar stirred in my chest—something I hadn’t allowed myse

Rowan’s Point of View The silence stretched like a rubber band pulled to its breaking point. Then—"Turn around." I did. Slowly. Carefully. Every movement is deliberate and non-threatening. When I faced him, recognition hit instantly. The old man. The same one who had walked into the house with Janet days ago. His eyes were sharp, assessing, the gun still steady in his hand despite the lowering of his posture. "You are Janet's husband?" he asked, his tone shifting slightly, becoming less certain but no less dangerous. "Yes." The word felt heavier than it should have. Heavier because it wasn't fully true anymore. "I saw her here," I added. "I came to check on her. Make sure she was okay." His gaze narrowed, studying me like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve. "And you never knew your in-law was sick?" he asked, his voice cutting through every excuse I might have offered.For a fraction of a second, I hesitated. The truth was there, waiting to be said. I didn't know. I hadn't asked.

Janet’s Point of View When i walked into the room, my breath caught in my throat so sharply it felt like drowning in air. My mother was awake. Not the weak, drifting awareness from before. She was sitting up—slightly supported by pillows but genuinely conscious. Her eyes were open, clearer than they had been in days, with awareness and presence that made them shine. And beside her—Rowan was sitting too close. He was holding her hand. And she was holding onto him. Like she knew him. Like they shared some history that I didn't understand and couldn't explain. Confusion hit me first. Because that wasn't possible.She had been in a coma before Rowan and I had even married. They had never met. They never even existed in the same moment. And yet here they were, connected by something invisible but undeniable. "Mama…" My voice broke as I rushed forward, the anger momentarily swallowed by something far more powerful, something that overrode everything else. Overwhelming relief, I knelt be