Todos os capítulos de Dear CEO, I Want a Divorce: Capítulo 71 - Capítulo 80

ELISHA’S POVI’d just finished checking up a quiet little girl named Asha, who had the biggest, most soulful eyes and a habit of whispering answers to every question.“You’re all set,” I said, handing her mom the dietary handout and smiling down at Asha. “No more marshmallows for breakfast, okay?”Asha gave me a shy nod and ducked behind her mother’s coat. Her mom mouthed a grateful “thank you” and led her out.As I turned to wipe down my desk, I noticed someone mopping the hallway floor just outside my room. She moved with this unbothered kind of rhythm—like she was in her own world, somewhere far away from the sterile buzz of the clinic. Her face was turned down, but something about her posture, her hair, tugged at me.I squinted.Then I blinked.“I know you,” I said, stepping out of the doorway.The woman looked up, startled at first. Then her brows lifted in recognition. “Oh. Yeah… the charity ball.”“The girl with Zane,” I said. She let out a small laugh. “Yeah… you tried to sav

ELISHA’S POVIt started out as one of those evenings that felt too perfect to touch.Adam picked me up around six. He didn’t say much at first—just smiled in that slow, quiet way of his, handed me a drink tray with two iced coffees and a paper bag that smelled suspiciously like garlic fries, then nodded toward the car.“We’re going somewhere?” I asked, buckling in.“Hopefully,” he said. “Unless you make me turn around.”I didn’t.We ended up at a drive-in theater just outside the city—one of those old-school lots with a massive screen propped up in front of a tree-lined hill, car radios tuned to a fuzzy channel, and rows of vehicles filled with families, teenagers, and tired couples happy to sit in silence.Adam parked us in the back, slightly angled so we could stretch our legs across the dashboard. He folded down the backseat halfway, creating a strange but surprisingly comfortable cocoon, and tossed me a blanket from the trunk.“This is absurdly cozy,” I admitted.“I am absurdly th

ANTHONY’S POVI stared her down, the words she’d said ringing like a siren in my skull.I knew I was right to leave you.She’d meant it. Said it without blinking. Without faltering. Without even the dignity of hesitation.A million thoughts fought for space in my head, chaotic, loud, vicious.How could she say that? After everything?After all the nights we shared? After I’d gone out of my way to punish Yasmin and Damian, the ones who humiliated her?Did she not see that all of it was for her?While I was pulling strings behind closed doors to make her enemies bleed, she was out watching movies and eating burgers with some third-string socialite, smiling like she forgot I ever existed.Did she really not love me anymore? Was she done with me? Was I just… noise now?I drove in silence. Every streetlight we passed painted her face with a different emotion—anger, resignation, disgust. I couldn’t tell which one stayed longest.She stared out the window. Not one glance toward me. Not eve

ELISHA’S POV“What are you doing here?” I asked flatly, not bothering to hide the edge in my voice.He smirked, and it was the same smug, obnoxious grin I’d seen too many times across too many rooms. “Hello to you too.”“What do you want?”He straightened up from the car, rolling his shoulders like he was just getting comfortable. Maybe to him, it was a casual gesture. But to me? Anything this man did was a threat wrapped in confidence.I took a step back.He noticed. “Relax. I’m not here for you, technically.”“Then why are you here?”“I came to catch Bethany leaving the clinic,” he said, like it was the most innocent thing in the world. “We haven’t spoken since you interfered at the charity ball.”“I don’t think I’m the reason she’s ghosting you,” I replied coldly.He tilted his head like that amused him. “Maybe not. But I wanted to talk to her. Clear the air.”“Okay. Well, you can step away from my car and leave now. Because she didn’t come in today.”That made him pause.“She didn

NATALIE’S POVThe sun was blazing, the air thick with the scent of overgroomed turf, expensive colognes, and sweat disguised under perfume. I shifted uncomfortably in the white dress my mother insisted I wear, my hand resting on the mound of my belly, reminding me that I couldn’t drink.Not for another few months. Pity, because you’d need a barrel of alcohol to get through this farce. Everyone around me was sipping champagne or something equally bubbly, their laughter lilting through the private stands of the polo tournament like some perfect symphony of old money.I was bored out of my mind.Francesco’s father had organized the event, as he did every year. It was one of those elite traditions where nobody really cared who won the match, only that they got to show off their wealth to others attending in subtle ways while savoring the Michelin-starred catering. I sat on one of the shaded benches near the edge of the seating area, sipping a lukewarm glass of mango juice someone had h