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Home / Romance / Dear CEO, I Want a Divorce / Chapter 241 - Chapter 250

All Chapters of Dear CEO, I Want a Divorce: Chapter 241 - Chapter 250

346 Chapters

Chapter 241

OSTARA’S POVI woke with a jolt.For a few seconds, I didn’t know where I was. The sheets were too crisp, the light too bright, the air too still. I sat up quickly, my heart hammering, scanning the corners of the unfamiliar room until the memories came rushing back — the ceremony, the papers, Peter’s voice calling me wife.The relief of remembering was short-lived.I sank back against the pillow, staring up at the carved ceiling. A faint ache throbbed behind my eyes, the kind that comes from too little sleep and too much pretending to be calm.A knock came at the doorI hesitated.It opened a crack, and the same old woman from last night shuffled in, her face expressionless. She carried a tray — coffee, juice, and an assortment of breakfast pastries neatly arranged on porcelain plates. She set it down on the small round table by the window.“Eat,” she said simply. Her accent was thick, her tone flat. “Then come down.”“Come down where?”“Mr. Banducci is waiting.”I blinked at her. “I

Chapter 242

ANTHONY’S POVThree days.That’s how long it had been since I last heard her voice.Every hour dragged like it was meant to test me. Every morning, I woke half expecting to get a call — a demand, a report, anything — and when nothing came, the silence became its own kind of punishment.By the third morning, I couldn’t sit still anymore. I’d gone through every possible contact in Italy, called every favor I could think of, and still nothing.“She’s fine.”Cameron’s voice broke through my spiral. He was sitting across the table, his tone calm, measured, frustratingly steady.I looked up. “You said that yesterday.”“And I’m saying it again today,” he replied. “Because it’s still true.”“How do you know?”He leaned back slightly, his eyes clear in that way that told me he wasn’t bluffing. “My people told me.”“Your people?” I frowned. “Who the hell are your people, Cameron?”He closed his laptop and looked at me like he was deciding how much to reveal. “You know the community work I’ve do

Chapter 243

OSTARA’S POVPeter had promised to let me go in two days.It was now the third.The house was a perfectly maintained cage. Every sound was routine, every hour predictable. The guards rotated with military precision, meals arrived on time, and the same old woman came by each morning with that same blank expression, setting the tray down without a word.The first day, I still believed him.By the second, I started counting the hours.By the third, I stopped asking altogether.Peter had changed.He still wore the same calm mask, but something underneath was cracking. Maybe it was the power — the kind that makes a man drunk without ever touching a glass.I saw it in the way the others treated him: how the men in his circle would stand the moment he entered, their shoulders squared, heads lowered. The worship was absolute.And Peter fed on it.He’d walk through the halls like a man in prayer — slow, deliberate steps, nodding at each man who bowed to him. I used to think he didn’t care for

Chapter 244

OSTARA’S POVI started to understand something about power.It wasn’t a crown you wore. It was a fever — a craving that grew louder every time someone bowed. And Peter was drunk on it.Every day, his behavior shifted further from calculated cruelty into something frantic and desperate. His eyes twitched when someone hesitated. His jaw clenched if a man asked for clarification. There was no rhythm to his mood anymore — just spikes of arrogance followed by sudden eruptions of temper.When the older men in the mob questioned him, he softened his voice, hand over his heart, promising he was doing it “for the family.” That he only had the best intentions, that he wanted to secure financial safety for everyone, and give them good lives. But when the younger ones questioned him, he threatened to kick them out of the mob.Which, in their world, was the same as a death sentence.And the men knew it. I could see it in their tension. Their hesitation. Their glances at each other when his back w

Chapter 245

CAMERON’S POVThe message came through a little after six in the morning.My phone buzzed against the table with a vibration pattern only one person in the world used for me — three short pulses, two long, one short. Code.I wiped a hand over my face, still groggy from a night with no real sleep, and unlocked the screen.Done. The stamp was withheld. The file sat in limbo. Peter Banducci has no wife.I exhaled once, slow and steady, letting the tension bleed out of my shoulders. Not all of it — just enough for my lungs to finally open.I stood, pocketing the phone.Anthony was in the living room, half-collapsed on the couch, laptop open, tie loosened, hair a mess. He looked like he’d aged ten years in three days.Donna had cried herself to sleep on his lap the night before, and she still lay curled beside him now, her tiny hand fisted in his shirt.“Anthony,” I said quietly.His eyes snapped open. “What? What happened?”I sat down opposite him, leaning forward. “The registrar withhe

Chapter 246

OSTARA’S POVThe house had changed again.It wasn’t just the tension. That had always been here, humming through the halls like something woven into the walls. This was different. Sharper. More frantic. The air felt charged, like everyone inside was waiting for something—or someone—to explode.I sat on the edge of the bed, tying my hair back, when the first raised voice echoed down the corridor.I stood and moved toward the door.I couldn’t see anything from inside my room, but I could hear it. Peter shouting. Another man shouting back — older, steadier, refusing to bend.My pulse picked up.“—too fast!” the older man snapped. His accent was thicker than the others. One of the veterans, maybe. Someone who had been with the family long before Peter became the leader. “You push the chemist past capacity, and we lose everything. We lose the product, the buyers, and the safety.”“You think small,” Peter shot back. His voice was tight. On edge. “We either grow or die. There is no safe path

Chapter 247

PETER’S POV“You may go.”The words came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t correct myself. Let her take it as an insult. Let her take it as fear. I didn’t have the strength to pretend I was calm anymore.She left the office quietly, not slamming the door, not rushing. Always composed. Always irritatingly composed.Even now—after everything—I couldn’t understand how she stayed so steady.I stared at the half-open door for a long moment after she walked out.Something was wrong with me. I knew it, I wasn’t stupid or deluded. I could feel it in the way my pulse stuttered for no reason, in the way my jaw hurt from clenching too long, in the way every noise sounded louder than it used to.She thought she knew something about power.She knew nothing.I dragged a hand through my hair and moved toward the window, staring out at the grounds. The men were gathering outside—some unloading crates, some smoking, some doing nothing at all. They were waiting for direction, for orders, for

Chapter 248

OSTARA’S POVHe did it. He finally snapped.The shouting died down to low, angry murmurs. More footsteps. Then silence again.I backed away from the door and sat on the edge of the bed, palms pressed to my knees, trying to slow my breathing. A soft knock came a few minutes later.I tensed. Everything in my body tightened up, as if bracing for a car crash. “Who is it?” I managed, my voice cracking. The door opened a crack. Riccardo stepped in. He shut the door behind him and stayed there, his back to it, as if he needed something solid to lean against.“What just happened?” I asked quietly.He exhaled slowly. “He almost killed Marco.”My stomach dropped. “Marco? His assistant, Marco?” “Boss aimed right at his forehead.” Riccardo finally met my eyes. “Sante shoved his arm at the last second and the shot went straight through a lamp, but still.” Peter had pulled the trigger on his right-hand man. Not a warning shot. Not a fake-out. A real one.I swallowed. “So… he is… alive?”“Yes.”

Chapter 249

OSTARA’S POVThe lake came into view just as the sky began to warm — a soft gradient stretching over the water, turning the edges of the horizon pale gold. When the car rolled through the gates of Cameron’s villa in Lake Como, my breath stuttered.They were all there.Anthony stood at the top of the steps. Donna was in front of him, eyes wide, fingers gripping the railing as if holding herself back from sprinting down the stairs. Cameron stood beside them, hands in his pockets, shoulders tense in that quiet way he carried stress — contained, hidden, but unmistakable if you knew him.And then Davina stepped out from behind Cameron, serious and purposeful, her expression softening when she saw me.The car hadn’t even stopped moving before the front door opened and Donna ran down the steps barefoot.“Mummy!”I barely had time to get the door open before she crashed into me, arms locked tight around my waist, sobbing into my stomach. I dropped to my knees, wrapping her up so tightly that

Chapter 250

OSTARA’S POVI woke to warmth on my face.Not the harsh, hostile kind I’d been living under for days — but real sunlight. Soft. Golden. Filtering through sheer curtains in slow, lazy shapes. For a moment, I didn’t move. I lay there with my cheek against a pillow that smelled faintly of lavender and detergent, listening to the gentle hum of cicadas outside, the faint clinking of dishes somewhere in the house, the soft sound of water lapping at the edge of the lake.It felt unreal.I could breathe without fear tightening my lungs. I could blink without the dread of someone knocking on my door. I could stretch my arms without expecting them to be grabbed.I was safe. Fully, completely safe.A small laugh slipped out of me. Just a breath. A tiny release.By the time I got dressed and stepped out onto the terrace, everyone was already seated.Cameron’s parents were discussing something by the railing in hushed tones. Anthony stood behind Donna, guiding her hands as she spread jam onto a pi

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