All Chapters of A Ruthless Revenge: the Billionaire's Ex Wife Is Back: Chapter 271 - Chapter 280

Genevieve’s POV“I have to say,” I told her, gesturing at the table, “you do take very good care of me.”Isadora’s gaze flicked over the spread — the scallops, the wine, the delicate lemon tart cooling on a silver stand. “Of course I do,” she said lightly. “I know how to take care of loyal family.”I almost laughed. Family. She’d always treated me like a real daughter, even more than she’s been a mother to her own son Damien. I lifted my wine glass to my mouth and took a slow sip. “You would’ve loved the look on Damien’s face last night,” I murmured, letting my tone go casual, sweet. “He thought he finally had me. Thought I’d rot in chains, dragged straight to Interpol like a captured animal. And now?” I spread my free hand. “Here I am. Sun, sea, and scallops.”“Mm,” she hummed, gliding into the room on quiet heels. “And here I am, getting the pleasure of your company again.”“Pleasure?” I tilted my head. “Is that what we’re calling it?”Her mouth curved. “We’ll get to that.”She cr

Nico’s POVSoline’s breath was still warm against my lips when she whispered, “I want to go with you, Nico. Please. Whatever happens—just take me with you.”Her words hit harder than any slap. For a moment, I just stared at her — the wild hair, the flushed skin, the way her pupils were blown wide like she’d stepped off a ledge and didn’t care if she fell.Then she kissed me again.It wasn’t soft or sweet this time. It was desperate and passionate at the same time, like she was trying to burn away everything between us that had gone wrong. I grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, feeling her heartbeat slam against mine, chaotic and alive.Her fingers slid into my hair, tugging hard enough to hurt, and it made something sharp twist inside me. That spark — that fire — it was the same thing that drew me to her in the first place. The part of her that matched my hunger, my recklessness, my need to own the moment before it vanished.For a second — maybe longer — I actually forgot everythi

Harper’s POVI was trying to breathe normally. Trying to stay calm. Trying to think.But calm and logic had abandoned me somewhere between the security office and Margaux’s lobby.We’d been waiting for what felt like hours — in reality, maybe thirty minutes — while Michael’s contacts called, texted, and scrambled to track down the car. Margaux was pacing by the glass doors, phone pressed to her ear, talking to the police again, her voice tight and breaking.I kept staring at the elevator display — the glowing numbers going up and down — like Celeste might suddenly step out and laugh at us for overreacting.“Nothing yet?” I asked Michael quietly.He shook his head, jaw tense. “Not yet. They’re running the plate, and one of my guys from security is checking highway cameras near the south road. No hits so far.”“That’s… not good,” I said, forcing the words through a throat that felt like sandpaper.“I know.” He rubbed his forehead, the lines between his brows deep. “But we’ll find someth

Damien’s POVRain needled the marble as I stepped closer. Jake and the others fanned out behind me, weapons drawn, moving toward the villa’s open doors.“Search the property,” I ordered, my voice hard. “Every room. Basement too.”Isadora’s expression didn’t change. “Still giving orders,” she mused, adjusting one of her diamond earrings. “You never could let anyone else lead.”My jaw tightened. “Where is she?”Her eyes glimmered with something infuriatingly smug. “Inside. Or maybe she’s not. You’ll see for yourself soon enough.”I took a step closer, the sound of rain muffled under the crash of the waves below. “You helped her escape.”A pause — deliberate, theatrical. Then a soft exhale. “Of course I did.”“Do you realize what you’ve done?” I snapped. “She’s a fugitive. A con artist. She’s destroyed lives — including yours. And you just handed her another chance.”“Don’t lecture me about consequences,” she said sharply, her voice slicing through the wind. “I’ve lived long enough to kn

Nico’s POVBefore I could even lift my gun, the first shot went off — a deafening crack that split the air like thunder.The bullet tore past my ear, close enough that I felt the heat of it graze my skin before it buried itself in the wall behind me. A warning shot. Missed — on purpose.They didn’t want me dead.For a heartbeat, I froze, caught between relief and dread. That hesitation was all they needed.One of them lunged, a blur of black. I fired, grazing his shoulder. His snarl was low, animalistic. Before I could reset my aim, another came from the left — faster. His fist slammed into my ribs so hard it stole the breath right out of me.The gun slipped from my hand, clattering under a table.Pain ripped through my side. I swung anyway, catching one across the jaw. He grunted, stumbled — but then a boot caught me in the gut, doubling me over.“Bastards!” I spat, staggering back, blood slick on my tongue. “Who sent you?”No one answered. Just the rhythmic crunch of boots, the low