Semua Bab The EX-Wife Returns : Bab 31 - Bab 40

The car was quiet, too quiet. Calla sat in the backseat beside Killian, her fingers laced tightly on her lap. Outside the window, the world drifted by in slow motion, too calm for the kind of storm she felt building inside. Killian stole a glance at her. She looked...collected. But he knew better. “You sure about this?” he asked finally, voice low but firm. She didn’t look at him. “We’re already halfway there.” “That’s not what I asked.” Calla inhaled deeply through her nose, then turned to meet his eyes. “Yes. I’m sure.” Killian leaned back against the leather seat, resting an arm behind her. “This is Damien we’re talking about. Your ex. And his bride is Selene, the same Selene who made it her hobby to humiliate you in public.” Calla’s lips curved faintly. “You forgot to mention that I spent three years married to Damien before I ended up in jail." “I didn’t forget. I just don’t like repeating things that make me want to rearrange a man’s jaw and I'm sure there's mo

She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but he cut her off. “No,” he said roughly. “I don’t want to hear it.” He kissed the scar again, his lips lingering. “You think I don’t see it? You think I don’t know what it means?” His voice was low, dangerous. Calla’s heart pounded in her chest. He stood up abruptly, his hand fisting her hair. “Look at me,” he demanded. She did. He towered over her, his muscles tense, his cock hard and ready. “You want me to fuck you?” he asked, his voice cold, detached. “You want my cock?” She nodded, unable to speak, as the tears were threatening to fall. “Bad memories are flooding but tonight you are happy, nothing is going to ruin that, so say it, Calla,” he ordered. “Say you want my cock.” “I want your cock, Killian,” she whispered, the words tasting like poison on her tongue. He smirked. “Beg for it.” “Please…” she gasped. “Please…” His hand gripped her throat, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. “Louder,” he hissed. “

The house had grown a little too quiet. Calla sat in the kitchen, idly flipping through the comments on her phone again despite herself. The harsh words still stung, no matter how much she told herself they didn’t matter. But Killian’s words echoed in her head .”mine, protecting" And somehow… those words brought warmth to the chaos in her chest. She looked over at the food the maids had just finished preparing for lunch. Without saying a word, she grabbed a container and began carefully arranging portions inside. The rice, some grilled chicken, a small tub of the spicy sauce she knew he liked, and even a pack of juice, just like she'd seen tucked in his office fridge. “You’re packing lunch?” one of the maids asked with a teasing smile. Calla didn’t answer at first. Then she shrugged, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “He’ll forget to eat if no one reminds him.” A few giggles floated in the air, but no one said anything else. She zipped the lunch bag, then grabbed her pur

The night had draped itself over the city by the time they stepped out of Killian’s the elevator. The building was quiet, Some of the staff long gone downstairs. His guards fell into formation the moment they exited the main doors. Calla blinked at the sleek black SUV that pulled up, the convoy of two other cars behind it already humming low and steady. “Is this really necessary?” she asked, arching a brow as Killian opened the door for her. “You're not just anyone anymore,” he said, voice soft but serious. “You’re with me, so it is necessary." The weight of those words made something flutter in her chest. She climbed in, and Killian joined her, settling beside her as the driver shut the door and the convoy began to roll down the road. It didn’t take long before her body leaned into his. She rested her head on his shoulder, her hand lazily brushing against his as the city lights blurred outside the window. The rhythmic motion of the car, the muffled engine, and the warmth

Meanwhile…Neva stood in front of the mirror in a her room, her reflection a weapon in itself.The black dress she wore clung to her curves like it had been sewn onto her skin. Her lipstick was blood red, her heels sharp enough to stab. But the real threat wasn’t visible, it was tucked into the thigh holster under her dress. Cold. Metallic. Deadly.“Tonight’s the night,” she whispered, fixing her curls. “If he won’t sign the damn papers willingly, he’ll do it at knifepoint.”Her smile was cruel.She had tailed Damien all day. Watched him pace. Drink. Crumple the divorce papers. Uncrumple them. Contemplate them like they were laced with poison. He couldn’t sign. Couldn’t let go.Even after Calla publicly humiliated him… he was still clinging to the marriage.Weak. Men always needed a little push.And tonight? She would be that push.**The black luxury cab pulled up just outside the club’s velvet-roped entrance. Neva stepped out gracefully, her crimson lipstick immaculate, her dress h