All Chapters of Dear Ex-husband, I Don't Love You Anymore : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Sleep wouldn’t come.It clung to the edges of her mind and then slipped away the moment she reached for it. Diana lay there, staring at the ceiling, counting her breaths until the silence grew too heavy. The house felt alive as if it was breathing, watching, waiting. She could feel it in the air that pressed against her chest like invisible hands.Finally, she threw the sheets aside and swung her legs off the bed. Her bare feet met the cold floor, Jaylen was no longer around to drop her fluffy slippers beside the bed. She shivered as she made her way down the long hallway. The lights were dim, soft gold against the dark wood, and every sound was amplified, even the creak of the floorboard. Every goddammit thing rang and echoed. She told herself she only wanted tea. Something warm to quiet the storm in her stomach. Something that would remind her of her life before things shifted.The kitchen was as immaculate as the rest of the place. Sleek counters, marble that gleamed under recess

Jaylen didn’t flinch at the sound of the sirens. He’d heard worse. With every second that ticked they drew closer, louder, deadlier. His pulse was steady, even as he wiped the gun clean with a rag from the nightstand. The metallic scent of blood mingled with the faint, floral air freshener from the motel’s cheap diffuser. It made him want to be sick.He checked the window. Two police cars were speeding toward the alley, blue lights bouncing off the cracked walls. Someone must’ve heard the shot, or maybe that waitress hadn’t run far enough before screaming.Either way, he couldn’t stay here.He grabbed his jacket and slid the gun into his holster, his movements quick but deliberate. His hand trembled when he picked up his phone again and saw as the last name on his screen glowed like a lifeline.Diana.He hit call.It rang once. Twice.“Jaylen?” Her voice came soft and broken, but it shattered something inside him all the same.He exhaled shakily and sank onto the edge of the bed. The

The gravel crunched beneath Jaylen’s boots as he approached the massive wrought-iron gates of Antonio’s mansion. The estate stood before him like an ancient beast, and as angry as it had been decades ago. Its walls weathered, the marble pillars veined with age. The damp air was thick with tension. Jaylen felt like his nerves had been frayed and all his senses were usually sharp. He knew that this was the high of adrenaline and it would leave him sick for hours but he did not care. He was going to ride the wave. From the shadows, he noticed movement.Five men emerged slowly, hands raised, unarmed. Their steps were hesitant, cautious. Jaylen’s grip on his gun tightened. He didn’t lower it, didn’t trust the sight for a second. His sense of reasoning had been pushed beyond madness and he fought to open fire on the masked men that were slowly approaching. He would have shot long ago if he wasn't an expert, but he was an expert and he knew that he would have to wait a moment longer.

The nurse smiled at her with that practiced kind of gentleness that always came before bad news or goodbyes.“You’re free to go, Mrs. Hale. The doctor says your vitals are stable now. Try to rest, alright?”Rachael blinked, still half lost between dream and daylight. The room smelled like antiseptic and flowers. The flowers were lilies, maybe, and somewhere beyond the curtain, someone was laughing. For a second, she almost forgot the incident, the smell of rust and damp walls, the screams that had once been hers.“Free to go?” she repeated softly, as if saying it aloud might make it real.The nurse nodded, and in came two men in plain black clothes. Jaylen’s men. She’d seen them before, the quiet ones who said little but carried themselves like walls that could move. One of them, taller with kind eyes, gave her a small nod.“Ma’am, we’ll take you to a safe house,” he said. “Orders from Jaylen. He’ll check in soon.”She didn't like the feeling of being caged and watched over but it w

My fingers wrapped around the file. I felt a shiver run down my spine as my hand touched the paper. It was thicker than the others. I pulled it out and Lorenzo sucked in but I didn't hear him exhale. I glanced down at the picture, no it wasn't just a picture but a collection of pictures. In the fiest one, Dan had his arm wrapped around a young woman, she was slender and tall but she had her face buried in his neck. It was winter and they were dressed in thick fur clothing. At this point, Dan had lost his eye and there was an extremely wide smile on his face. He looked like he was about to laugh at something. “What am I looking at?” I asked Antonio but he didn't need to reply, because as I slipped to the next picture I felt a hot ball lodge in my throat. Everything stilled as I stared at a picture of my mother. It was still winter, but a different day. Dan had his arm wrapped around her shoulder and they were casually walking, having a talk but there was no smiling or laughing, in