All Chapters of WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

The warehouse on the city's outskirts was quiet—too quiet for a place that had just hosted one of the largest underground trades of the quarter. The only sounds echoing through the vast steel-and-concrete interior were the soft thuds of crates being pushed and the low murmur of men confirming goods.Damian Holt stood near the edge of the main floor, arms folded, his three-piece suit spotless even in the dim, dusty lighting. The shadows danced over the sharp planes of his face—half in elegance, half in danger.His reputation in the business world was pristine—CEO of Holt International, one of the fastest-growing investment syndicates in Europe and Africa. But beneath the polished surface, very few knew what powered his empire.Smuggling. Deals. Blood money is laundered through fashion-tech investments and boutique real estate.“Crates four and five cleared, sir,” one of the men reported, closing the lid on a shipment of high-grade untraceable weapons. “Everything matches the manifest.”

The late evening sun spilt gold across the glass walls of Antonio Enterprises, casting long shadows that danced between the mannequin displays and hanging sketch boards. Most of the team had clocked out, and the usually buzzing fashion wing had settled into an expectant hush—except for the faint sounds of pencil scratches from Ximena’s office.She was seated at her wide desk, sketching final adjustments on Clarissa Morreti’s gown silhouette when Rafael’s voice cut through the corridor.“Uh, boss…” he called, his tone oddly breathless. “You might want to come out here.”Ximena glanced up, pencil still between her fingers. “Why? What now?”“Just… trust me. You’ll want to see this.”With a quiet sigh, she placed the pencil down, smoothing her silk blouse as she stood. Her heels clicked softly on the polished marble as she entered the hallway. Then she saw him.**Damian Holt.**Standing in her reception lounge, dressed in an impeccable navy blue three-piece suit, silver cufflinks catchin

Ximena was halfway through reviewing the bridal capsule shipment report when Rafael burst into her office, phone in hand and eyes wide like he had just stumbled on scandalous gossip—which, knowing Rafael, he probably had.He stood awkwardly at her door. “So… do we pop champagne or throw hands?”Ximena glanced up from her files. “Rafael, what now?”He slowly walked toward her desk, flipped his phone, and showed her the headline.**“Confirmed: Miguel Ricardo & Tania Roberto Set Engagement Date. Ceremony to Be Held at Ricardo Mansion This Saturday.”**For a few seconds, Ximena didn’t move. Her eyes scanned the article, taking in every word. The photograph beneath the headline showed Miguel in a black suit beside Tania in red—smiling, polished, perfect for public consumption.A sour taste coated her throat. Her chest was tight, but she didn’t let it show.Rafael waited, observing her. “You okay?”Ximena closed the file in front of her. “Can you send this down to Yara? I need confirmation

Ximena barely slept that night. Whenever she closed her eyes, she felt Miguel's words replaying in her head.“You’re in danger, Ximena.”At first, she brushed it off as another one of his desperate attempts to stay relevant in her life. After all, Miguel Ricardo had a talent for using concern as a mask for guilt. But something in his voice—something she hadn’t heard before—lingered. Fear.Still, she refused to show even a crack. That morning, she arrived at Antonio Enterprises dressed in sharp white, every inch of her outfit purposeful and calculated. Her high-waisted pants were perfectly tailored, her blouse tucked neatly beneath a crisp blazer. Her heels tapped like gunshots on the marble floor, her expression unreadable behind black sunglasses.She pushed open the door to her office and found Rafael already inside, seated cross-legged on the couch with a pink smoothie in hand. His lips curled into a half-smirk.“Before you ask—yes, I saw him. No, I didn’t punch him in the face. And

The rain hit the glass windows. It had been forty-eight hours since the explosive report Rafael uncovered—an offshore account in her name with a trail of forged documents so perfectly laid out, it could bury her alive if it ever saw the light of day.Ximena had known she was in the game with dangerous people, but she hadn't realized how deeply rooted the corruption was—or how far her enemies would go.Rafael barged into her office again, this time without a single cup of coffee. That alone set off alarm bells in her head.“I just got a call,” he said, voice barely above a whisper as he closed the door behind him. “The Financial Crimes Bureau is sending investigators to our offices by next week. Someone tipped them off anonymously. Guess what they’re looking for?”Ximena didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. Her name was already halfway into the fire.“They think you’re laundering money through a fake shipping company in Panama,” Rafael continued, flinging a file onto her desk. “And we b