All Chapters of Dear CEO, I Want a Divorce: Chapter 301 - Chapter 310

ANTHONY’S POVThe jet vibrated beneath my feet as we cut through the night sky, engines steady, relentless. Halifax was still an hour away, but time had taken on a strange elasticity—stretching where I needed it to hurry, compressing where I needed it to slow down.Elijah sat across from me, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, and posture just as stiff and tensed as always. Victoria sat a few feet away, silent, reviewing something on a tablet with the same ruthless calm she’d had at the warehouse. There was an air of control and calm about her. It was relieving. It was also a little unnerving, because it made me feel like she knew something the rest of us didn’t. A secret plan or something that made her feel more confident than the rest of us. I envied that. That used to be my play. Right now, I was just sure that the second I landed, I would go in and hold nothing back. That was my entire plan—attack. I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes for half a second. Moving felt good… it

OSTARA’S POVBy the time I understood what was happening, we were already gone. One second, I was listening to the noise outside, trying to pick Anthony’s voice out of the chaos. The next, a door behind us banged open, and a hand clamped over my mouth.“Quiet,” a voice hissed in my ear.Peter.His guard cut the ropes at my ankles in one rough jerk and hauled me upright. Natalie jolted awake just in time to see him coming for her.“Wha—” she started, before the guard snapped at her to shut up.Cold air slapped my face as they shoved us out the back door and into the night. I tried to track directions, turns, distances—anything—but exhaustion smeared everything together. The only thing that stayed sharp was Peter’s shape ahead of me, moving fast.We reached a house. Calling it that felt generous. It looked like someone had started building, then abandoned the project halfway through.The guard forced the door open and marched us down a narrow stairwell into the basement. The air was st

OSTARA’S POV“What the hell is that?” Peter frowned.“What?” I asked.He’d descended into a new layer of madness… muttering constantly now, voice rising and falling as he argued with himself, as if someone invisible kept interrupting him. I’d started to wonder if he was now hearing things.Except this time… I heard it too.The basement swallowed all sound because of the thick concrete, but the floorboards of the deck above us creaked in a way that didn’t seem like a bunch of kids aimlessly exploring an exciting haunted house. This felt more purposeful. “Nat…” I whispered, nudging her shoulder. She didn’t move… she was still asleep, dead to the world. I exhaled slowly, accepting the fact that if we had to run, I’d be forced to drag her. Peter paced, rubbing his temple with the barrel of his gun. “I’m calling my guard.”He raised his phone.The first burst of gunfire exploded overhead.The house shuddered, dust sifting from the ceiling like dry snow. Another volley followed, closer a

OSTARA’S POVAs he hugged me closer, I felt warmth spread across my torso, but this came with a scent of metal. Anthony’s blood.The realization hit me hard enough to jolt my body back into alertness. I pulled away from him, my palms sliding over his jacket until they found the soaked patch near his shoulder.“Oh my god,” I whispered. “Anthony—Anthony, you’re bleeding.”He blinked down at the stain like he’d forgotten it existed. “Right…” he murmured, sounding almost amused. “I forgot all about that the second I saw you, if I’m being honest.” “Forgot!?” My breath stuttered. “This is not—this is—this is so much blood!”He actually smiled at that—weakly, tiredly, but with a softness that punched straight into my chest. “You stabbed a man in the neck without blinking,” he said. “But a little blood is what freaks you out?”“This is not a little!” I protested, examining the wound. “And anyway, he deserved it! You don’t.” “Ah,” he said lightly, “so your panic is situational—”“Shut up be

OSTARA’S POVThe timing couldn’t have been worse.Or better, depending on how you looked at it.But I’d hoped—desperately, in fact—to have Anthony to myself for five minutes before Natalie stumbled into the picture. Five quiet minutes to brace him, to hold his hand, and prepare him for the eventual meeting with Natalie. Instead, the curtain rustled, and the nurse guided Natalie into the cabin like fate had been listening and decided to be cruel for sport.Natalie blinked groggily at the light, still drifting in and out of her drug-induced haze. Someone had washed her hair and, instead of clinging to her face like before, it hung in soft and fluffy curls. Clean. Her steps were uneven, but she had a smile on her face that felt too warm for a woman who had no idea her life was about to collapse.“Boy, am I glad to see you two,” she said, easing into the nearest recliner. She let her head drop back, eyes fluttering shut. “Thank God all that’s over.”I felt Anthony tick beside me like a t