All Chapters of Dear CEO, I Want a Divorce: Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

ANTHONY’S POVMark barely had the car in park when they spotted us.Joseph had his chest puffed out like he owned the place, Agnes’ arms were folded so tightly across her chest I wondered how she breathed.The moment I stepped out of the car, Joseph started walking toward me, voice booming.“Where is she?”I stared at him. “Who?”“Don’t play games with me, Anthony. Natalie. We haven’t heard from her in weeks. Calls unanswered. Emails ignored. She’s gone dark. You expect us not to worry?”My jaw clenched. “Natalie is a grown woman, Joseph. She doesn’t answer to me, and she sure as hell doesn’t need me running after her like a babysitter.”Agnes closed the distance quickly, her heels clicking against the pavement. “Don’t you dare dismiss this. She lived with you in London. You—”“She didn’t live with me,” I cut in. “She camped in my space, used what she wanted, and left whenever it suited her. That was her choice. Not mine.”They didn’t like that answer. I could see it in the twitch of

OSTARA’S POVThe light slanted pale and gold through the curtains of my bedroom, warm but not yet intrusive. I blinked against it, registering the steady rhythm of another breath beside me.Cameron.He was still asleep, stretched comfortably across the sheets, hair mussed, mouth relaxed in a way that made him look younger. For a brief, disorienting moment, I thought of another face there. Years of mornings that had begun this way—except not in peace, and not like this.Saturday. Which meant one thing: Donna’s ritual. French toast with berries and powdered sugar. I shifted, careful not to wake him, and sat up.“Good morning,” Cameron murmured, eyes opening just as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed.I smiled faintly. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”“Better than I deserve,” he said, stretching, then propped himself on his elbow. “What’s the plan for today?”“Donna and I have a breakfast ritual every Saturday. And we’ve never skipped it.” “Sounds perfect,” he said, watching

PETER’S POVThe thing about insubordination was that it never came from nowhere.It always started in whispers, little looks exchanged at the edge of meetings, the way men stopped holding your gaze. I’d seen it a hundred times in other organizations—Joseph used to tell me you had to cut it out like rot before it spread. But Joseph wasn’t here anymore. And people… my people… were forgetting who took the empire forward.I lit another cigarette and leaned against the balcony rail, watching the smoke trail disappear into the Roman night. Down below, Isabella was taking a call, her dark hair pulled back into a tight knot, her hand slicing the air as she paced. She’d been handling the scheduling for me, setting up a meeting with the men who still claimed loyalty. The last ones I could count on—or so I hoped.She hung up, looked up at me. “Tomorrow,” she said. “They’ll be here. Noon.”I nodded, grinding ash into the tray. “Make sure it’s only them. No strays. No cousins. I want to look the

OSTARA’S POVThe email glared at me from the screen, stark in its simplicity. My fingers hovered above the keyboard, trembling slightly. I typed back before I could overthink it.Who the hell is this?I barely had time to take a breath before the reply arrived.Just a well-wisher. But if you attempt to contact Anthony and tell him about this, it’ll be a while before you see your daughter again.A chill rippled through me. The words were clinical, detached, but the warning landed clear and direct. Whoever this was, they knew enough about me—about Anthony—to strike exactly where it would hurt.I steadied my hands on the desk, forced myself to breathe, and typed again.What the hell do you want from me?The answer came swiftly, like they’d been waiting.Be in Milan on Thursday. Address and details to follow.My heart kicked hard against my ribs. Milan. Thursday. My mind spun to Cameron. His parents’ anniversary in Lake Como was Saturday. I had one day in the middle. I tried to calcula

OSTARA’S POVLake Como looked unreal from the window. A spill of silver water, mountains rising soft at the edges, and a sky that wouldn’t decide if it wanted to be blue or gold. I watched it all from the car as it wound up the hill toward Cameron’s estate, feeling the weight of the last twenty-four hours press heavier with every turn.The driver stopped in front of the villa—a mansion carved into the hillside, glass and stone in perfect symmetry. I’d seen pictures before, but nothing prepared me for the quiet grandeur of it. Gardenias climbed the balconies, and somewhere deeper in the house, I could hear faint music playing.Inside, a maid guided me up the marble stairs to a guest room that looked like it had been designed for a magazine spread. Soft linen curtains, polished floors, a bed so large it felt like it could swallow me whole. She told me the luggage had already been placed in the wardrobe and left me to settle in.I closed the door behind her, exhaled slowly, and walked s