Todos os capítulos de Dumped by Ex , I married his Uncle : Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

The morning had started with Serena feeling strangely restless. Ben had been out of the house since early dawn, leaving only a note that he had a board meeting and would be unavailable most of the day. Normally, Serena would have buried herself in emails, schedules, or calls—but today, she needed air. Real air. No staff. No bodyguards. No luxurious walls closing in on her.She slipped into a comfortable yet sleek tan dress, tied her hair up in a low bun, grabbed her sunglasses, and walked confidently out the front door. When the driver offered to take her, she declined. And when her assigned bodyguard began to follow her out of habit, she stopped him with a polite but firm shake of her head.“I’ll just be a few hours. I need… space,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “Personal errands.”The truth was, she was craving anonymity—craving normalcy. Just a simple trip to buy groceries and maybe a pastry or two from the little bakery she'd once visited during less complicated days. Sh

Ben drove like a man possessed. The city lights blurred past the windshield, rain streaking the glass in silver veins as his fingers gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. His jaw clenched, his chest heaving with the simmering rage he hadn't fully exhaled.He could still hear Serena’s voice in his head—“You’re no savior, Ben. You’re a prison I mistook for a sanctuary.”The way she had looked at him—with pity, with defiance—had clawed at something deep inside him. Not guilt. No, Ben wasn’t wired for that. It was something else.Insulted pride.She wanted to challenge him? Humiliate him in his own home? Claim her strength now? Fine.She was going to learn. Painfully.He wasn’t some nobody she could toss aside like a used napkin. He was Ben Fletcher. The man women whispered about, the one they slid their numbers to at parties even with their boyfriends by their side. He didn’t beg. He didn’t chase. Women came to him. And tonight, he was going to remind the world—and

“And so what Ben “?Ben froze.The weight of her words slammed into him with the force of a wrecking ball. “So what will you do, Ben, huh?” she had said, her voice no longer trembling, no longer pleading. “Will you hit me? Or what—what will you do that you haven’t already done?”Her hand slipped free from his grip, and he didn’t stop her this time. He just stood there, hand half-raised, watching as she walked away from him—straight-backed, head high, like a woman finally done with fear.“I owe you no devotion or love, Mr. Ben,” she had continued, her tone flat and resolute. “We’re bound by a contract. I did my part, and you will play yours. So let’s mind each other’s space.”Ben’s jaw tensed. The words were so cold, so final. But what cut deepest was the last thing she said, tossed over her shoulder like a knife meant to leave a scar.“Besides—it’s a loveless marriage. So what’s your business if another guy likes me, huh?”The door clicked softly behind her.Ben remained still in the

The morning sun filtered softly through the grand windows of the penthouse kitchen, spilling golden light across the pristine marble countertops. The air was quite eerily so. No clatter of silverware, no sharp shuffle of polished shoes on the tiles. Just the low, steady hum of the refrigerator and the occasional chirp of birds echoing from the terrace.Ben stood alone in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, brows furrowed in concentration as he cracked eggs into a mixing bowl. His tie hung loose around his neck, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. There was flour on his cheek, and a small smear of batter on his wrist, but he didn’t care.He was doing this himself.Behind him, a voice cut through the silence, startled and alarmed. “Sir… you can’t be here.”Ben turned, spoon halfway to the bowl.It was the chef Miss Jennie. Middle-aged, sharp-eyed, and fiercely loyal. She’d been with him for over a decade. Seen him at his coldest. Heard him at his angriest. Watched him climb through soc

The warm lighting of the restaurant hallway shifted to a more sterile glow as Serena pushed open the door to the ladies’ restroom. Inside, the air was cool and quiet. She moved to the large mirror, reaching into her purse for her compact. Her hands moved slowly, dabbing gently at her makeup, reapplying a bit of gloss, checking the smudge of eyeliner under her lashes. A soft sigh escaped her lips not of weariness, but of emotional weight.Her mind wasn’t on her reflection. It was still on the conversation at dinner-the confession, the tension, the silent end to something that had never really begun.She barely heard the door behind her creak open again.When she glanced up, still focused on her lipstick, her eyes met the mirror and caught a reflection that made her blood turn cold.Xender.He stepped in slowly, deliberately. The ladies' restroom.Serena froze, lowering her lipstick. “Xender?” Her voice was tight, uncertain. “What are you doing here?”He didn’t answer at first.Instead,