All Chapters of A Ruthless Revenge: the Billionaire's Ex Wife Is Back: Chapter 221 - Chapter 230

Damien’s POVI lingered over the last sip of coffee, watching her. Colette. She moved with the same quick, precise grace until suddenly she glanced at her watch, gave a few last instructions, and hurried toward the door.I pushed back my chair, half-rising, but the waitress beat me with a cheerful, “She’s gone already. Probably another appointment. She’s always running.”I sank back, feigning casual. “Shame. I was hoping to talk to her.”The waitress tilted her head, curious. “Talk? About what?”I gave her the faintest smile, the one that opened doors without ever sounding too interested. “Nothing serious. I’m new here. Thought I’d get a feel for the place… talk to locals. And her café—it’s something. Successful, warm, incredible food. Hard not to be curious about the woman who built it.”Her expression softened, flattered by the compliment to her workplace. “Well… if you want to meet her, there’s an event in two days. A pottery workshop and exhibit. She’s hosting it here, with a loca

Celeste’s POVThe living room glowed softly in the candlelight, shadows flickering across the walls like they were swaying to the soft jazz playing in the background. I’d arranged the cushions twice already, maybe three times, and the scent of the strawberry mille-feuille Harper bought earlier still lingered in the air—sweet, buttery, comforting.I stepped back to take it all in—the candles, the trays of cheese and fruit, the small stack of board games Michael had insisted we include “just in case.” Everything looked perfectly cozy, perfectly harmless. Which was exactly what scared me.I never thought I’d see the day I’d be hosting a family game night—least of all with the Lancasters.Behind me, Michael was bustling around, sleeves rolled up, humming like he’d been waiting for this moment his entire life. “It’s supposed to bring everyone together,” he said, arranging pens beside a notepad as if the fate of the world depended on it.“You’re taking this very seriously,” I said, crossing

Michael’s POVShe didn’t move away.For a heartbeat, we just stood there—breathing the same air, the quiet between us trembling with everything we hadn’t said.Then I leaned in and kissed her.The first touch was a spark—brief, uncertain—then it deepened, turned hungry, real. Harper’s fingers slid up the back of my neck, and before I could think, she pulled me closer, kissing me harder, fiercer.I groaned against her mouth, hands finding her waist, pulling her against me. The world narrowed to the heat between us, to the quiet sounds we tried not to make. The half-empty wineglass tipped over on the counter, rolling to the floor, but neither of us cared.She gasped as her back met the counter edge, lips parting just long enough to breathe, “Michael…” before she kissed me again, desperate this time, fingers tangled in my hair.We were half-lost in it—heat and breath and the reckless sense that if we didn’t stop now, we never would—when my elbow caught the corner of a bowl.Crash.The so

Celeste’s POV“Oh gosh,” I said, half-laughing as I stared at the sculpture. “You’ve been giving me too many gifts already.”Alain’s grin was boyish, proud, his dimples deepening. “That’s nothing yet,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes. “Wait until you see what I make next.”I didn’t know what to say. My heart squeezed as I looked at the delicate curves of the piece again — the way his hands had shaped it so carefully, almost reverently.“You really didn’t have to,” I murmured. “It must have taken hours. Days, even.”He shrugged, pretending it was no big deal, but his voice softened. “I wanted to. It’s… strange, I guess, but you’ve been inspiring me lately. More than anyone has in a long time.”My breath caught. “Alain—”He shook his head quickly, smiling faintly. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to respond to that. I’m not trying to make things awkward.”The sincerity in his tone melted whatever defense I had left. Still, my thoughts tangled.I liked him. I did. His kindness, his quie

Damien’s POVI stayed put long after Celeste disappeared behind that door. When the doctor finally left, I ducked back into the stairwell, keeping to the shadows near the half-open door.It felt like more than an hour before I saw her again.Celeste stepped out of the recovery wing, a soft smile still on her face. Alain followed her, the perfect attentive shadow—always hovering, always a step too close.He said something that made her laugh again. I caught fragments of his voice: smooth, careful… practiced.I didn’t like it.I waited until they passed through the lobby before slipping out behind them, keeping just enough distance to stay unseen.Celeste’s movements were easy, unguarded. His weren’t.Alain glanced over his shoulder more than once—not exactly looking for me, but scanning the space like someone who’d been trained to watch. His posture was too alert for a hospital nurse winding down after a shift.That prickle crawled up the back of my neck.I followed them through the ma