All Chapters of His Enemy, My Husband : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Isabella was lying lazily on the blue bedpace of the Westbridge memorial hospital, her back was up propped up by a pair of thick pillows while right hand, was neatly bound in a plaster cast. And from this position, her lips were pressed into a thin line as she appeared to be seething in quiet annoyance.But this situation was more than annoying, it was a disastrous blow.Not too long lago, she had l received the email from Valencia & Co. Models.The same agency that had signed her for years now. The same agency that used to book her for every major editorial, every glossy billboard across New York and other popping cities.And now? All of a sudden, they were telling her that they were “grateful for her time” but “now ready to move in a new direction.”“To hell with direction!” She had not waited to finish reading before she started trying to reach out to them.She must have dialed for more than seven times but all she kept getting was voicemails.Not even her old signees numbers

Saturday morning opened at the Hayes grandparents' residence, where the old power couple sat enjoying the innocent light of early dawn.Both of them were relaxing, sipping coffee and watching the 8AM broadcast on the giant flat screen TV centered above the mantel.Grandfather Hayes was seated in his usual armchair, his legs crossed neatly with his white socks showing.Beside him, Grandmother Hayes sat even straighter looking regal in her gold coloured cardigan. The television was, of course, murmuring in the background, playing the usual inconsequential weather forecast at first. But then, this did not last for a minute longer before a sudden switch happened.The screen suddenly blinked into a new segment. Replaced without warning by a bright red BREAKING NEWS headline. But the real disaster was the announcement that followed.Grandfather Hayes jolted, almost choking on his tea. His glasses slid slightly down his nose.Beside him, Grandmother had lowered her cup slowly, her confuse

Less than ten minutes ago, Vanessa had entered this same vault area with calculating grace. She didn’t need to be told where to go. And the smile on her face only said one thing, “She was here for what belonged to her.” But now, that face had completely switched, and her smile had since vanished replaced by a new mask of suspicion. For some reason, something was feeling off. Too still. Too quiet. Vanessa inhaled sharply and turned to face her safe. She raised one hand and started to punch in the security code with a swift click of her wrist. But nothing showed at first. Her eyeballs went stiff, and without waiting another second, this time she hit the buttons harder, faster, and she did so with all her teeth showing. And finally, she had the relieving beep, “Access granted” But the relief did not last for long, As soon as she did, a hiss escaped the safe, making it slide open automatically. Vanessa took one confident step forward, only to be immediately stopped by

Caden had no plans to be out today, let alone to stay out late. Since his return from work, he had remained inside the house with his shirt halfway unbuttoned, relaxing in the silence while holding a glass of juice.And not too long after that, the doorbell rang.The visitor ushered himself in soon after, and without surprise it was the face of one of his business associates from one of the newer media syndicates, Jordan Redstone.He came waving his arms so wildly and wearing one of these stupid wide grins of his like he had just hit some sort of jackpot. But, as it turned out, he actually had.“Bro! Listen, man… We got the bid! Our pitch got the damn syndication slot! We’re locked in…haha… prime-time, man!”Caden barely had time to ask him to slow down before Jordan burst past him to clap his back like a drum, pacing the living room with boyish energy.“Forget whatever anti-social schedule you set today. We’re celebrating this win at Rooftop 77, man. I already called ahead.”The ot

The hour was precisely 7:00 p.m. In the dining hall, the long table had been perfectly set and around it, the helps moved in and out efficiently particularly the one that bore the name Louise. Her steps were far more silent, her hands steady as she placed the final dish at the center: roasted seabass with lemon butter glaze, and this was without disrupting the serene grace of the room.At the head of the table, Damien was already seated, his wine glass, near his plate but he hadn’t yet taken a sip. Beside him was of course Isla, her spine poised, her hands resting lightly on her lap in wait.There was less than a minute between the final napkin adjustment before the gentle sound from the other dining room door made it open to reveal the face of none other but, Isabella.She stepped in with the rehearsed gait she had perfected over years during the peak of her modelling career.But the main point of attention was actually the robe she was wearing; a delicate plum silk that slipped s