All Chapters of Dear CEO, I Want a Divorce: Chapter 311 - Chapter 320

OSTARA’S POVWe reached home just after breakfast time—sunlight spilling over the driveway, the world looking painfully normal for a day that was anything but.Bethany was already at the door, concern and relief all over her face. When she spotted the car drive up, she rushed forward, crying out my name as if she needed the sound to confirm I was alive. She pulled me in so tightly I nearly lost my breath.“Oh thank God,” she whispered into my hair. “Thank god, thank god.” Before I could reassure her, a flurry of footsteps echoed down the hall.Donna.She barreled toward me with such speed I barely had time to crouch before she collided with my chest, arms thrown around my neck, face burrowed into my shoulder.“Mama,” she sobbed. “Mama, Mama, Mama—”It broke me beyond words. I held her like she was part of my body as she shook in my embrace. “I’m here,” I whispered, kissing her temple. “Baby, I’m here. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere, okay?” Her small fingers clung to the fa

OSTARA’S POVThe police station smelled like disinfectant and old paper.It wasn’t unpleasant—just sterile, stripped of warmth, as if the building itself had learned how to swallow emotion and spit out facts. Anthony’s hand rested lightly against the small of my back as we were led into a glass-walled interview room, our footsteps echoing faintly against tiled floors.This was it. We were called in to give our official statements about the kidnapping and Natalie’s confession. Anthony took the chair beside me, posture rigid, jaw tight. Across the table sat a detective, a stenographer, and—unfortunately—Natalie’s lawyer.He was already mid-performance before we’d even sat down.“My client was severely drugged,” the lawyer said smoothly. “Isolated, terrified, and under coercion from a known criminal. In that mental state, she would have said anything. Even Ms. Beaumont told the medic on her private plane that my client had been drugged out of her mind and needed a full detox. She was s

OSTARA’S POV“What’s done?” Anthony asked.I locked my phone and put it away. “I’ll tell you after dinner. It’s a bit of a long story.” “After dinner with him?” His tone sharpened.“With Valentin, yes.”“We are not doing that. We’re not sitting down and breaking bread with Natalie’s fiancé.”I met his stare.“Anthony… I already lived through your rivalry with Peter. I’m not spending my life caught in another rivalry with Natalie and Valentin.”The words came out sharper than I meant. Anthony’s expression cracked—anger folding into something wounded.“Ossie…” His voice dropped. “I—” I realized I’d hurt him without meaning to. “I should have protected you better,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.” Guilt pinched my ribs. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m tired, I shouldn’t have snapped.”“You don’t say something like that unless you’ve thought it before.”I winced. “Maybe. But mostly… I just need you to trust my judgment.”“I do,” he said immediately. He cupped my face, thumb brushing my

OSTARA’S POVThe driver’s taillights disappeared at the end of the driveway, leaving the house in a strange, heavy quiet.Still inside the bar, the lights were low, amber washing over the bottles lined up neatly behind him. My wineglass sat between us on the counter, half-finished with a ring of condensation on the polished wood.Anthony leaned his elbows on the bar, hands wrapped around his glass, staring at nothing.“So,” he said quietly. “What’s done?”I blinked.It took me a second to remember what he meant. Robert’s call.“Oh,” I said, sliding onto the stool. “Robert.”“Yeah. Him. What did he mean?”I took a sip of wine, letting the moment settle.“It’s time we stop orbiting around Natalie,” I said. “She’s in custody, locked away safely. It’s time we turn our attention to Zane.” A shadow crossed his face. “That’s what the call was about.”“Yes.”He leaned back against the bar, giving me all his attention now. “What’s your plan?”“A man like Zane wants power,” I said. “But not j

ANTHONY’S POVWith Zane out of our lives and buried in Blackwell, there was finally room in my head for something I hadn’t allowed in a while.Peace.It didn’t come all at once… it came in small pieces. In the way Donna slept through the night without jolting awake. In the way Ostara laughed a little more freely. That was how I knew it was now or never.Christmas was in a few days. And for once, I wanted to do something that wasn’t about survival, strategy, or revenge.I wanted to do something just for them.“Bethany,” I called quietly one afternoon, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen.She turned, wiping her hands on a towel. “Yes?”I lowered my voice. “How would you feel about a secret mission?”Her eyes lit up immediately. “My favourite kind.”“I need you to pack for Ostara and Donna. Expect it to be a few weeks. Warm clothes to survive London in December.”Her eyebrows flew up. “London?”“Christmas in London,” I said. Just saying it out loud made something warm unfold in