All Chapters of A Ruthless Revenge: the Billionaire's Ex Wife Is Back: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Celeste’s POVI could tell. The kiss left him breathless—exhilarated, even—but that fleeting rush of triumph shattered the instant my hands slammed against his chest. “Damien!” I shouted, my voice sharp with fury.I didn’t hesitate.The slap cracked across his face like thunder. The sound echoed louder than the pounding in my chest.His head jerked to the side, the harsh imprint of my palm blooming red against his cheek.But he didn’t react. No flinch. No curse. No quick, defensive words.He just stood there, lips parted slightly, his breathing ragged—not from pain, but from something else. Something that felt like disbelief. Or heartbreak.“You’re shameless,” I hissed, trembling all over. “Don’t you get it? We’re over. We’ve been over for a long time. I’m already with—”“Don’t,” he cut in, voice low and dangerously calm.I froze. “Don’t what?”He turned his head slowly, eyes finding mine with a look I hadn’t seen in years—haunted, raw, but beneath it… something sharp and feral.“Don

Celeste’s POVHarper’s words hit me like a slap I hadn’t braced for.“Maybe he’s not such a bad guy?”My jaw tightened. Slowly—almost involuntarily—my face stiffened into something unreadable. But underneath, heat surged.I stared at her, disbelieving. “What’s that supposed to mean?”Harper blinked, surprised by the sudden edge in my tone. “I just meant… after everything today. He helped you.”“Should I forgive him, then?” I cut in, my voice rising. “Just like that? Let’s all forget the lies, the gaslighting, the betrayal—because today he showed up and played hero?”She held up her hands. “Whoa. No. That’s not what I’m saying.”“Because let me remind you, Harper—he left me when I needed him most. Believed someone else over me. Repeatedly.”“I get that, Celeste,” she said, her voice steady. “But Damien’s not Genevieve. I’m not excusing what he did. I’m just saying… maybe he’s trying.”The silence between us was loud.“I’m just tired,” I muttered. “Tired of everyone acting like he’s som

Damien’s POVI had been waiting for days.My phone lit up more times than I could count, but none of the messages mattered—unless they were from Anton Shaw, my investigator. Finally, today, it came. The call I’d been waiting for."Got something," Shaw said, cutting straight to the point. His voice had that clipped edge he only used when things were serious. "Been tracking Genevieve like you asked. Surveillance footage, front desk logs, staff interviews. It took time, but we pieced it together."I sat up straighter in my chair, heart already pounding. "Get to the point. Talk."“She usually stays in her apartment and rarely goes back to the family estate,” Shaw said. “But here’s what’s strange—every now and then, she slips in and out of the Rothwell Hotel. No fixed schedule. Not for events or parties. Always discreet, always alert. Like she’s meeting someone she doesn’t want anyone to know about.”My brow furrowed. That name rang a bell."It’s about four blocks from the old museum dist

Celeste’s POVThe request popped up on my screen just after midnight.[AnonymousUser413 has requested a private meeting. Time: TBD. Location: TBD. Will you accept?]I stared at it for a long moment.My breath came slow and shallow. A thrill of adrenaline flickered in my veins.She wants to meet. Not just trade cryptic messages from the safety of a screen.She wants to find out who knows her secret.I didn’t need to ask who it was. My gut screamed it. Genevieve. Who else would use an anonymous burner account and suddenly want a face-to-face the moment the posts started getting traction?Still, I didn’t click accept. Not yet.This had to be handled carefully.Before launching this entire digital trap, I’d hired a powerful hacker—someone who’d worked with whistleblowers and knew how to make people vanish online. Every trace of my activity was masked behind layers of encryption, rerouted through ghost servers and VPNs. I made sure nothing could lead back to me.My eyes shifted back to the

Damien’s POVI turned around sharply, my body still coiled and ready to strike. To my shock, the person who’d stepped in was none other than my own private detective. Anton Shaw. His trench coat was half-unbuttoned, and his expression was taut with forced calm. His eyes flicked quickly between me and the terrified concierge.“That’s alright,” he repeated, stepping in. “We’ll take it from here. Thank you.”“What the hell are you doing?” I hissed under my breath, jaw clenched so tight it ached.He gripped my arm—firm but not aggressive. Containing me. Like he’d been waiting for this.“I’ve been shadowing you since you stepped into the building,” he muttered, voice low. “I had a feeling you’d pull something like this. You always go off-script.”I shook him off. “Because the script doesn’t work fast enough. That guy upstairs—he’s the one from the video. I saw him.”“I know,” Anton said tightly. “And I’m already working on it.”I don’t have time to wait,” I snapped. “This isn’t some corp