Semua Bab Dear Ex-wife, You're More Than A Substitute: Bab 41 - Bab 50

The room was already aglow with soft golden lighting and hushed conversations when I arrived. The charity auction was being held at the Pacific Royale Hotel, an elite venue nestled in the hills overlooking downtown Los Angeles. The kind of place where chandeliers glittered like frozen stardust and the champagne never stopped flowing. I’d been invited weeks ago formally, personally. My name had started to carry weight in California now, just like it had back in Europe. It was a fundraiser meant to support architectural education for underprivileged youth, and the auction items were all personally meaningful contributions from influential guests. Paintings, heirlooms, signed books… But I donated a design… a rare, exclusive architectural concept sketch, tailored to whatever space the bidder chose. I wasn’t here to be generous. I was here to be seen. Caleb walked beside me, his presence calm and grounding. His tailore

Richard’s POV I wasn’t sure why I came. Maybe because it was tradition. Maybe because everyone expected me to show up. Or maybe because, even after all these years, I kept hoping that some part of the noise and crowd would drown out the silence I’d carried with me since she left. The charity auction was being held at one of the city’s more lavish venues, the kind of place where champagne flowed like water and everyone smiled like they had nothing to hide. I sat alone in the fourth row, my legs crossed, fingertips steepled against my lips. Around me, conversations fluttered... wealthy couples in designer suits and gowns making polite talk. Laughter that didn’t quite reach the eyes. Camera flashes. Flashy jewelry. Intentions that were anything but charitable. Stacy had come with me tonight, of course. My mother insisted. Appearances, she’d said. "It’s time people start seeing you as a couple again." I didn’t correct her. Stacy had leaned in just ten minutes ago, brushing invisible

Camilla’s POV It had been a week since the auction. A week since Richard Anderson reminded me of the man he used to be... the one who could charm with a glance, disarm with a smile, and destroy with a silence. I hadn’t planned to accept his offer. Not at first. But then again, revenge wasn’t something you rushed. It was savored. And what better way to dismantle a kingdom than from within its tallest tower? So, I called him. Told him I’d take the job. His voice on the other end of the line didn’t hesitate. “Good. I’ve been waiting.” Now, as I walked into Anderson Global Headquarters, I realized just how well he'd built his empire. The building was sleek, modern, minimalist... white marble floors that reflected the crisp lines of the towering glass walls. A place that screamed control and discipline. Every receptionist was perfectly dressed. Every employee passed by with practiced urgency. It was cold… polished… and so very Richard. The woman at the front desk looked up and

The school gates swung open just as I pulled in, and I saw the teacher standing near the reception. She waved at me gently, her expression soft but cautious like she didn’t want to alarm me more than I already must’ve been.I parked and stepped out of the car, practically running toward the office.“He’s in the nurse’s room,” she said. “His temperature went up a little after lunch. He said he was tired and didn’t finish his food.”That alone made my chest tighten. Zane? Not finishing his food? Not laughing or talking a mile a minute?I thanked her quietly, my heels clicking too loudly down the hallway as I rushed to the small nurse’s room. And there he was, my baby. My little boy, lying on a narrow cot, his curls damp and stuck to his forehead, cheeks tinged with a faint flush.He looked…small. Fragile.

Richard's POV I was flipping through the structural renderings on my desk, scanning through elevations and floor loads that somehow felt less important now than they used to. My mind had been trailing behind all morning stuck somewhere between the sharp edges of Camilla’s smile and the distant coolness in her eyes lately.Then I heard them.The unmistakable sharp click of heels against marble tiles.Before the door even opened, I already knew who it was.It swung open uninvited, unannounced.Stacy.Her hair was pinned back perfectly, red lips curved into a smug smile like she belonged in that office. She walked in like it was her birthright.“I thought I’d stop by,” she said sweetly, her gaze skating briefly over the papers on my desk before locking onto mine. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”I didn’t bother hiding my irritation. “You