All Chapters of A Ruthless Revenge: the Billionaire's Ex Wife Is Back: Chapter 351 - Chapter 360

Damien’s POVI took a corner booth where shadows pooled thick enough to hide in. From here, I could see everything without attracting attention. The beer in front of me stayed untouched—just a prop.The bar was the usual kind of hell: loud music, spilled alcohol, and men who didn’t care about consequences. Levi blended right in… almost.He sat across from Tommy—leader of the Black Reapers, professional manipulator, and cancer in leather. Tommy leaned back casually, drumming his fingers on the table.One of his men slid a small packet toward Levi.Levi’s eyes widened, but he grabbed it fast—too fast—like he was afraid someone might take it back.Then the woman slid into the booth beside him.Mid-twenties, confident, dressed to distract. She ran her hands slowly across his shoulders, down his arms, whispering something into his ear.And here was the part that made my stomach twist—Levi visibly relaxed.His shoulders dropped and his breathing eased. His mouth curved into a small, dazed

Nico’s POVI followed her.Cursing under my breath the entire damn way.“Idiot,” I muttered. “She’s gonna bite your head off. Turn around. Just… turn around.”My boots kept moving anyway, crunching over gravel and dry grass.“Yeah, not happening,” I growled to myself.The party noise behind me faded into a distant mix of laughter and off-key birthday songs. Up ahead, the ranch lights thinned, swallowed by the dark edge of the property.And there she was.Sage stood by the fence line—half in shadow, half in moonlight. Shoulders tight. Jaw clenched. Hair blowing in the night breeze. A lone, carved-from-stone silhouette against the open field.She didn’t flinch when I approached.She just turned her head, eyes narrowing.“Why are you here?”I lifted the two beers I’d grabbed from the cooler—mostly to keep myself from looking like a stalker. Or an idiot. Or both.“I wasn’t planning on talking,” I said. “Just figured if you’re gonna brood alone, you might as well be hydrated.”She stared a

Genevieve’s POVI changed the subject. Because he didn’t answer. It was the easiest way to keep Alain from seeing the panic tightening every muscle in my body. “So… um, Lucette, what fruit did you use for the jam today?” I asked, forcing my voice into something that sounded normal.Lucette beamed, delighted by the question. “Wild strawberries from behind the market. They’re much sweeter this season.” She pushed the jar toward me. “Here, take more.”I nodded, spreading it onto bread with hands that shook only a little. Across from me, Alain watched me quietly, elbows braced on the table. He still hadn’t responded to what I told him earlier. Henri sat down with a grunt, rubbing his back. “You young people eat faster. Food will get cold.”I smiled politely, but inside I was spiraling.They were all so… normal. Kind. Good. The kind of people I should never be sitting with. And they treated me like I belonged at their table.Lucette handed me a mug of coffee and brushed crumbs off my sl

Celeste’s POVFor a moment, I just stared at the card. A cold little thread curled down my spine.Before I could make sense of it, the café staff member stepped closer, rubbing her arms as if she were uneasy too.“Um… that bouquet,” she whispered, “it was delivered by a man. Tall. Muscular. Wearing a black jacket and a cap pulled low. He didn’t say a word, just handed it over.”My heartbeat thudded painfully.Harper met my eyes over the flowers—hers widening with the same dread blooming inside my chest.It felt like my past was reaching for me again. As if moments of joy could never come without shadows chasing right behind.A flicker of fear rippled through me.Genevieve? Another stalker? Someone from the past we never uncovered?My breathing faltered. Then the staff girl gasped, pointing toward the entrance. “There—he’s coming back in.”I froze.The café door swung open. A tall figure entered, cap low, jacket dark. My pulse spiked, my fingers tightening around the bouquet.The man

Celeste’s POVI woke up to the kind of stillness that doesn’t feel peaceful— just full. Like my body hadn’t figured out whether last night was a dream, a triumph, or a warning.My eyes were puffy from crying—happy tears, scared tears, everything mixed together. And my heart… my heart felt strangely restless, beating as if it were running ahead of me into a day I wasn’t prepared for.I pushed myself up from the bed, stretching sore muscles, and padded out into the dining room.The moment I smelled it, my heart soared. The aroma of warm bread, steamed milk, and caramelized sugar wafted from the kitchen. Auntie Eleanor’s breakfast.I froze for a second. Because for just a breath… it felt like I was eleven again, sitting at the long wooden table in the orphanage kitchen, watching her make crepes while the younger kids giggled and fought over spoons.“Good morning, Celeste,” Auntie Eleanor said from behind the counter, flipping something golden-brown in the pan.I blinked away the sting i