All Chapters of Divorce and Regret: Chasing My Famous Lawyer Ex-Wife: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Nathan’s POVThe lobby was too quiet for this hour, and that told me my men were doing their job. I nodded to one near the elevators before stepping inside. The hotel was one of those discreet business-class places—no paparazzi, no curious staff, the kind of establishment where privacy was the most expensive amenity on the menu.When I reached the suite, two guards straightened immediately. “He’s inside, sir. Hasn’t tried to leave.”“Good,” I said. “He knows what happens if he does.”They opened the door.Brunner looked up from the armchair, still in yesterday’s clothes, a cup of bad coffee trembling in his hand. He’d shaved, at least. Small victories.I closed the door behind me. “How’s the view? Room service treating you well? I told you staying on my good side came with perks.”His laugh cracked like thin glass. “If this is your good side, I’d hate to see the other one.”“You already did,” I said, walking past him to the window. The city stretched below us, glossy and indifferent.

Natalie’s POVThe SEC office did not intimidate me.I’d stood in courtrooms where reputations were gutted for sport. I’d faced judges who made partners tremble and attorneys who tore witnesses apart like they were made of paper. I’d won cases I had no business winning — cases everyone told me were unwinnable.This building, with its glass walls and polished floors and bureaucratic formality?It was nothing.I walked through security with the same calm I wore into a courtroom — chin high, coat draped over my arm, my case files stacked precisely in hand. Confidence wasn’t a performance. It was armor. And mine had been forged a long time ago, under pressure that would have broken lesser people.Brandon walked beside me.No security detail or assistants trailing behind. Just us.For once, we were not CEO and Chief Legal Officer — we were two people walking into enemy territory knowing one thing:No one was going to save us but each other.Three SEC officials sat across the glossy table.

Emma’s POVI was halfway through revising a Europe tour itinerary when someone knocked.Once.Twice.And then the door just opened. I looked up — and almost swallowed my own tongue.“Lucas,” I said, the sound of his name on my tongue giving me all sorts of sensations. He was actually here in my office. Like a very well-dressed hurricane.“Hi,” he said, as if this were normal. As if he had been invited.My jaw actually dropped. “What are you doing here? Didn’t we already finalize the—”He lifted a finger — not touching me, but very much silencing me.“I came because I want to introduce someone to you,” he said casually, strolling in like he owned the building. “A friend. He’s parking his car.”I blinked. Open. Close. Repeat.“…What?”“Oh—sorry for the short notice,” he added, half-smiling like this was all charming and not deeply, violently stressful. “We were talking last night, and today happened to be his only free time. He’s looking for a travel specialist for their company retre

Brandon’s POVI swear to god, if she tells me she skipped breakfast again—I balanced the white pastry box in one hand as I walked down the hallway, the faint smell of butter and dark chocolate filling the air. The good ones — the ones from the bakery down the street. I’ve seen her bring in something from there once or twice. I knew she liked them. Today felt… lighter.The crisis was contained. The market was steady. The press had stopped cannibalizing us. And the SEC had moved to the real target.We’d made it out.She had pulled us out.So it made sense — in a completely reasonable, non-personal, professional way — that I wanted to say thank you.Maybe share coffee. Maybe just sit in the same room for ten minutes without talking about disaster mitigation.I reached her office and knocked once, automatically.No answer.Odd.I nudged the door open.“Nat—”Empty.Lights off. Desk clear. Chair untouched since yesterday.Oh, right. Her day off.The realization landed with a dull, unexpe

Brandon’s POVI didn’t plan to come here today.Hell, I didn’t plan to come here ever.And yet, here I was — standing in front of the gates of Woodridge Hills, staring at the mansion I’d spent half my childhood running around in… and the other half trying to forget.I don’t know what pulled me here.Maybe the silence. Maybe the ghost of a man I still wasn’t done missing. Maybe the feeling of having my insides scooped out after learning that my ex-wife — my ghost of a wife — had finally signed those damn divorce papers.It should’ve been closure. Instead, it felt like someone had shut a door on a chapter I never even got to read.“Mr. York!” I saw Marvin coming up to me from inside the house. I met him on the porch. “You’re here.” He looked stunned. “Marvin.” My voice came out lower than intended. “I need to look around.”His expression shifted — surprise, then something gentler, then concern.“It’s… been a long time,” he said carefully.“I’m aware.”Marvin wiped his palms on his trou