Semua Bab After Divorcing My Husband, I became His Boss: Bab 121 - Bab 130

Hannah's POV I drove home in a daze, Hayes's warning about Maria replaying in my head on an endless loop. The house was quiet when I arrived. My parents were probably avoiding me—as usual. With everything that happened with Lenora Michael was likely in his room, drowning in grief over Lenora. Maria—wherever she went during the day. I went straight to my room, peeled off the blood-stained clothes, and stood under the shower until the water ran cold. But no amount of scrubbing could wash away the image of Lenora raising that gun to her own head. I dressed in clean clothes and collapsed into bed. Sleep came fast and heavy, pulling me under like a wave. My phone woke me. I grabbed it, disoriented. The screen said 9:47 PM. I'd slept over twelve hours. Text from Adam: "Doctor cleared me. Getting discharged tomorrow at 10. Can you pick me up?" I texted back: "Yes. See you then." "Thank you. Get some rest." I set the phone down and realized my stomach was growling. I couldn't remem

Hannah's POV: We stood there, foreheads pressed together, his hand tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. My heart was still hammering from the kiss, from the confrontation downstairs, from everything. "Hannah," he said quietly. "We need to talk about Maria's text." I pulled back slightly. "Right. The text." He walked over to my desk and sat in the chair, gesturing for me to grab my phone. I retrieved it from my pocket and pulled up the message. "'How sweet. Young love. Enjoy it while it lasts. Your brother hates you. Your parents think you're cursed. Slowly and surely your family is crumbling. And everyone would pay the price.” Adam read it twice, his jaw tightening. "Unknown number." "Can we take it to the police?" He shook his head slowly. "Think about what we'd be showing them. A screenshot of a message from an unknown number, signed with the letter M. That's it." "But we know it's Maria—" "We suspect it's Maria. There's a difference." He handed the phone back. "They

Hannah's POV ONE WEEK LATER. I set the plate of scrambled eggs and toast on the desk where Adam sat working. He looked up from his laptop, pushing his glasses up with his good hand. "You didn't have to do that," he said. "Eat." I pointed at the plate. "You skipped breakfast." "I was going to grab something later—" "Adam." He smiled and pulled the plate closer. "Yes, ma'am." I perched on the edge of the desk, watching him take a bite. His shoulder was healing well. The sling came off for a few hours each day now, though he still winced when he moved wrong. "How's the research going?" I asked. "Good. I'm analyzing the data from the Singapore markets. Should have the report finished by tonight." He glanced at me. "You know I can get my own food, right? I'm not completely helpless." "I know. But I like taking care of you." "I've noticed." His eyes crinkled with amusement. "You barely let me carry my own laptop." "Your shoulder needs rest." "My shoulder is fine." "Doctor said

Hannah's POV That evening, we all sat around the dining table. My mother had outdone herself—roasted duck, glazed vegetables, fresh bread, the expensive wine glasses that only came out for special occasions. Uncle Chen sat directly across from my father at the table. Between them stretched a silence so thick it felt like trying to breathe underwater. I was positioned between Adam and Michael. Maria sat beside my mother, with Bryce on her other side. "This looks delicious," Chen said, cutting into his duck. His movements were precise, controlled. "You always did know how to host, sister-in-law." "Thank you." My mother's smile was strained. "It's been so long since we've seen you." "Twenty-eight years." Chen took a sip of wine, his eyes never leaving my father. "A lifetime, really." My father said nothing. He hadn't touched his food. "So, Uncle Chen," Bryce said, clearly trying to fill the uncomfortable silence. "What brings you back to the city?" "Business. I've built quite an

Adam's POV:The first thing I noticed about Hannah that morning wasn’t the dark circles under her eyes or the way her shoulders sagged as if she were physically carrying the weight of every secret she’d uncovered. It was the silence. Hannah was never truly silent. Her presence normally hummed with restless thought, soft movement, quiet determination. But today, she looked like someone who had been hollowed out.She sat at the edge of the guest room bed, the same one her parents had so eagerly insisted I use while recovering. She wasn’t even pretending to eat the untouched breakfast tray beside her. Her fingers trembled around the edge of her phone, screen dark, as if she’d been staring at it for hours.I leaned against the doorframe, trying not to startle her. “Hannah.”She didn’t respond.Her gaze was locked somewhere far beyond the four walls of this house, maybe back to the hospital, the blood, the gunshots… or maybe to Maria’s sweet smiles hiding sharpened knives.“Hannah,” I repe