All Chapters of The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Theo’s Point of ViewThe sting of yesterday’s confrontation clung to me like a bitter fog, heavy and suffocating. I’d stood in Marcus’s sleek Loop apartment, gripping that cursed manila envelope, watching his face twist in agony as I delivered the news: the court had finalized his divorce from Ella. His scream—raw, furious, shattering—still echoed in my head, the star pendant he’d thrown against the wall a jagged symbol of his obsession unraveling. I’d hoped, maybe naively, that those papers would snap him out of it, force him to let her go. Five years of chasing Ella—Venice, Chicago, every dark corner of his mind—had drained me. I was exhausted, worn to the bone from being his errand boy, his confidant, his shadow in a hunt that only ever ended in pain. Marcus was my friend, my boss at Carter’s Wine, but I wanted him to move on, to find something—anything—else to obsess over besides Ella. But as I stepped into his apartment that morning, the sharp tang of whiskey hitting me at 10 a

Amanda’s Point of ViewThe drive back from Ella’s visit left a bitter taste in my mouth, my hands gripping the steering wheel as the kids chattered in the backseat, their laughter a stark contrast to the storm brewing in my chest. Ella’s perfect life—Shawn Hayes’s mansion, her radiant smile, her daughter Lily with those unmistakable Carter features—burned in my mind like a brand. I’d smiled through it all, played the supportive cousin, but envy clawed at me, raw and relentless. Ella always landed on her feet—first Marcus, the billionaire heir, now Shawn, another tycoon wrapping her in luxury. And me? Stuck with Theo, jobless, dragging us into ruin because of Marcus’s cruelty. I couldn’t let it stand. The kids’ voices—Milla’s excitement about Ella, Ben’s giggles—faded as I made a decision. I wasn’t going to sit back and let our lives crumble. Marcus had to pay, and I had something he’d want, something that could turn the tables.I pulled up to Marcus’s Loop apartment, the sleek high-

Ella’s Point of ViewThe morning light filtered through the heavy curtains of Shawn’s bedroom, a soft glow that warmed my skin as I stirred awake, Shawn’s kisses trailing along my jaw, each one a gentle promise. His lips were warm, familiar, pulling me from sleep into a world where I felt safe, loved, whole. We’d been sharing his bed for weeks now, our lives intertwining as our wounds healed—my abdomen still tender from Marcus’s bullet, his chest scarred from his own battles. "Good morning, sleeping beauty," Shawn said as he showered my face with kisses and cuddles."Oops, wrong princess! Did you forget that I'm Ella, the Cinderella?" I joked, loving waking up like that.Shawn smiled mischievously, caressing my cheekbone with the back of his fingers. "To me, you're the fairest of them all."Every day with Shawn deepened the love growing between us, a quiet fire that burned away the shadows of my past. His arms were around me, his breath soft against my ear as he murmured, his voice

Ella’s Point of ViewMy hands wouldn’t stop shaking, my breath hitching as tears streamed down my face, the weight of Marcus’s words crushing me like a vise. His voice—raw, venomous, promising to drag me through court for Lily—echoed in my head, each syllable a fresh wound.I sat on the edge of Shawn’s office chair, my robe pulled tight around me, the morning light filtering through the mansion’s windows doing nothing to warm the chill in my bones. Marcus knew about Lily, my daughter, my heart, the secret I’d guarded through five years of running, hiding, rebuilding. Amanda’s betrayal had unleashed him, and now he was a storm at my door, threatening to tear my world apart. I wiped my eyes, my chest heaving, fear and panic clawing at me, but Shawn’s arms were around me, his warmth a lifeline, his voice steady despite the chaos.“It’s gonna be okay, Ella,” Shawn said, his voice low, fervent, his eyes locked on mine as he knelt beside me, his hands cupping my face. “Marcus isn’t taking

Marcus’s Point of ViewI could hardly wrap my head around Ella’s nerve, her fucking audacity to dictate terms like she owned me. My boots hit the polished floor of the upscale Chicago restaurant, the clink of glasses and murmur of lunchtime chatter grating on my nerves as I scanned the room. Yesterday, she’d blown off our agreement—refused to bring Lily to my apartment, claiming she didn’t trust me, as if I was some rabid dog who’d hurt my own kid. The rage burned in my chest, a fire I could barely contain, my hands clenching as I remembered her voice on the phone, cold and unyielding, insisting on a “neutral” place for me to meet my daughter. My daughter—Lily, five years old, hidden from me for half a decade because Ella decided I wasn’t worthy. I’d thought about it, yeah—locking Ella and Lily in my place, maybe teaching that smug bastard Shawn Hayes a lesson, maybe even putting him in the ground for sticking his nose in my family. But I hadn’t done it, so why the hell was I the vi