Semua Bab Dear Ex-wife, You're More Than A Substitute: Bab 81 - Bab 90

The rain had slowed to a drizzle by the time I pulled into the office parking lot. It was past 10 a.m. unlike me. I rarely ever came in this late, but the events of last night had left my mind spinning. I had barely slept, haunted by the stinging echo of Stacy’s voice. Don’t like the taste? Or are you allergic to it, Tessa? She’d said my name like it was a loaded gun, aiming straight for the part of me I’d spent years burying beneath a new name, a new city, and a carefully curated life. Even now, the thought of her watching me as I drank that juice, the faint twitch of satisfaction in her smile… it made my chest tighten. I stepped into the building, shook off the umbrella, and walked briskly toward my office. Most of the staff I passed gave me polite nods or warm good mornings. But something felt… off. Like air thick with static before a storm. When I tur

Richard’s POV The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was the sharp sting of daylight bleeding through partially drawn curtains. The second thing? The pounding in my head, like a jackhammer drilling straight into my skull. “Ugh…” I groaned, shielding my eyes with one hand while pushing myself into a seated position with the other. My throat was parched. My limbs were heavy. My mouth tasted like I’d gargled rust and regret. Where the hell was I? I blinked, forcing my eyes to adjust to the unfamiliar room. It didn’t take long to recognize the soft beige tones, the classic hotel carpeting, the tray of untouched water and Advil on the bedside table. I was in a hotel suite. Wearing… a robe? I looked down at myself… my shirt was gone. My pants, too. Hell, even my socks. I was neatly wrapped in a plush white robe I definitely didn’t remember putting on. The belt w

I walked out of the shower, a towel wrapped tightly around my chest, water still clinging to my skin. The room was dim, only the bedside lamb that casted a soft glow across the space. Richard sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone, but he looked up the moment he heard me. "How do you feel now?" he asked, his voice low. "Better," I said, offering a soft smile... lovely on the outside, hollow on the inside. I waited for him to say something more. Anything. Maybe a mention of the hospital, of Stacy. Something that would confirm the gnawing suspicion crawling beneath my skin. But he said nothing. No tension in his tone. No guilt in his eyes. Just calm, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened while I was gone. I stood there a little longer, expecting... hoping. But still, nothing. He reached over to the nightstand and handed me something. The routine. The pills. "Here," he said. The contraceptives. I took them without a word, but my fingers tighte

Richard’s POV The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was the sharp sting of daylight bleeding through partially drawn curtains. The second thing? The pounding in my head, like a jackhammer drilling straight into my skull. “Ugh…” I groaned, shielding my eyes with one hand while pushing myself into a seated position with the other. My throat was parched. My limbs were heavy. My mouth tasted like I’d gargled rust and regret. Where the hell was I? I blinked, forcing my eyes to adjust to the unfamiliar room. It didn’t take long to recognize the soft beige tones, the classic hotel carpeting, the tray of untouched water and Advil on the bedside table. I was in a hotel suite. Wearing… a robe? I looked down at myself… my shirt was gone. My pants, too. Hell, even my socks. I was neatly wrapped in a plush white robe I d

Richard’s POV I didn’t need to shout. I didn’t even need to raise my voice. The silence in my office was already loud enough… the kind that settles just before a storm levels a city. The air was stiff, the weight of betrayal still sitting on my chest like a boulder that refused to move. I had already reviewed the surveillance footage five more times since the celebration. Watched every second of Stacy slipping into Camilla’s office. Caught the moment she removed a flash drive. Saw her tamper with the project folder and leave with that smug, unhurried confidence I had been too blind to see. Stupid. God, how stupid could I have been? The knock on the door was soft. Hesitant. A new assistant peeked in a second later. “She’s here, sir.” Of course she was. “Send her in.” Stacy walked in like she had rehearsed it. Cream blouse. Black skirt. Her hair brushed into smooth waves like she still wanted to play the “polished girlfriend” role. But her eyes gave her away. She l