Lahat ng Kabanata ng Dear CEO, I Want a Divorce: Kabanata 81 - Kabanata 90

ELISHA’S POVI took the glass he extended to me and noticed, for the first time, how nervous he was.It was subtle—almost imperceptible—but I saw it in the slight shake of his fingers and how his eyes darted to mine and then down again. Anthony, always confident, always in control, was uncertain tonight. There was no reason for him to be, not really. Not after everything we’d already been through. But maybe that was exactly why.Maybe because, finally, it was quiet between us. No battles, no layered meanings, no sharp words wrapped in softness. Just… us. And I think the quiet made him uneasy.I took a sip. Cool, sweet. It tasted like summer.He watched me for a reaction, his thumb twitching against the side of his glass. I looked at him directly, and I didn’t smile right away—I just let the moment hang there. The way the fading sunlight caught the edge of his jaw. The way he looked so boyish, despite everything he’d done, everything we’d survived. I gave him a small nod, then a smil

ELISHA’S POVShe left as gracefully as she’d arrived, full of thanks for my understanding, as if I had gifted her something meaningful. I suppose I had.I didn’t say anything. I don’t even remember how I responded. I watched her walk away, heels tapping against the pavement in a measured rhythm, and the sound followed me long after she disappeared around the corner.Only when I was back in the apartment—my apartment—did I finally break.There was only one pillow left on the sofa; the others were boxed away. I buried my face into that one, clawed at it, twisted the fabric in my hands, and let it absorb the sobs that had been burning inside me since I saw Anthony walk into the building with her.She’d been so calm. So composed. She hadn’t mocked me. She hadn’t raised her voice or made threats. She didn’t need to. And that made it worse. She was collected, self-assured, and direct.And I—I stood there like an idiot. Like someone who had forgotten her own dignity somewhere on the way in

NATALIE’S POVI hadn’t even exhaled from the last conversation when Damian walked into the café, practically throwing himself into the chair across from me.For a second, I stared at him blankly. Then I remembered—two meetings. Right. I had agreed to meet him this morning. God, I needed to start using a calendar again.He leaned in, voice hushed. His eyes darted around the room before landing on mine.“Did you know Yasmin went to jail?”I blinked.“What!?”“She called these goons—like, real guys, Nat—had them rough up that guy Elisha’s seeing. Right in the middle of their date at some Japanese restaurant. Cops showed up.”I shut my eyes slowly, pinching the bridge of my nose.Of course, she did that.Yasmin, in her infinite brilliance, had actually done it. I knew she’d been spiraling, obsessed with Anthony’s investments pulling out, blaming Elisha for everything from the weather to her wardrobe going out of style. But jail? Really?And with no subtlety? No finesse?God. She was ever

ADAM’S POVNo sooner had I slammed the door shut and buckled myself into the backseat than Elijah launched at me.“What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped, twisting around from the driver’s seat, eyes blazing. “You know better than to get into a fight between a husband and a wife!”I leaned back, seething, heart still pounding from what had just happened.“Ex,” I snapped. “Ex-wife.”Elijah shook his head, disappointed and furious. “Doesn’t matter. That’s not your fight. It’s not your business, Adam. You had no right to get involved.”I scoffed. “Are you kidding? You were there. You saw the way he talked to her.”“That doesn’t mean you get to throw yourself into the middle of it.”I clenched my jaw. “I care about her.”“Says who? Since when?”“She’s like a sister to me.”Elijah let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Sister? Oh, we’re still on that?”I said nothing.He turned to face forward, shaking his head again.“You don’t even hear how strange you sound,” he muttered.“She looks l

ELISHA’S POVAs if locking me in this house like some antique heirloom weren’t enough, Anthony had taken away my phone, too.No warning. No conversation. Just gone.I hadn’t even noticed it was missing at first. I’d been too busy thinking of exits, watching the way the guards rotated near the garage, and timing how long it took the cook to leave the kitchen for her smoke breaks. But two days after the hospital, when I finally reached for it out of habit—when I realized it wasn’t in my coat pocket or nightstand or even plugged in where I usually left it—I knew.He’d taken it.He didn’t say it outright. He just tightened the control a little more each day. And then one morning, when I was walking past the study, I saw it.It was only a second. The door was slightly ajar. I glimpsed the inside of the desk drawer as he pulled it open to grab a pen, and there—tucked to the side, screen dark but unmistakable—was my phone.My breath caught.He shut the drawer and locked it with a smooth cli