All Chapters of I DIVORCED HIM! NOW, HE REGRETS: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

CHAPTER 102 – THE KISS THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN MAYA'S POVThe first thing I felt when I woke up wasn’t sunlight. It was the damn heat still clinging to my skin. The ghost of someone’s hand on my cheek. The burn of someone’s breath brushing my ear.I bolted upright, gasping. My sheets tangled around me like chains, and my heart pounded way too fast for someone who’d just had a nap.“A dream,” I muttered, clutching my pillow. “It was just a dream.”Yeah. Right. A dream where my lips almost touched his. A dream where Xves—fucking Xves—looked at me like I wasn’t a ticking time bomb, like I was... breakable.I squeezed my eyes shut and groaned into the pillow. Nope. Not going there. Not today, Satan.Swinging my legs off the bed, I dragged myself into my morning routine. Shower. Check. Hair tied up in some half-assed bun. Check. Pretend like last night didn’t mess with my head? Double check.By the time I slipped into a clean shirt and jeans, I’d almost convinced myself it hadn’t happened. Jus

CHAPTER 104 — VIRAL SCANDALLARRY'S POVLarry Jonathan: married, but apparently monogamy isn’t his thing—he’s knocked up Brandy. And Maya? Word on the street is she’s cozying up to her bodyguard. Oh, you think they’re divorced? Where are the fucking papers? Some marriages are made for love… others for drama.My fingers froze over the phone screen, as the post stared back at me like a mocking glass of champagne, bubbly and sharp, threatening to cut my tongue off if I tried to speak.I blinked. Blinked again. Then scrolled. And scrolled. And scrolled.Comments had exploded like wildfire:“Wait… is this for real?”“Maya, girl… you better check your man.”“Larry Jonathan? A father-to-be with Brandy while married? This is literally soap opera material.”“Someone hand me popcorn. I need receipts.”Receipts. God, receipts. The words hit harder than any of my boardroom losses, colder than the night I first realized Maya hated me with the fire of a thousand suns.I leaned back, chest tight, tr

CHAPTER 106 – ESCAPE ROUTEMAYA’S POVI sat on the edge of my bed, knees pulled up, staring at the floor like it held the answers I needed. My mind was a mess, replaying everything from yesterday—Xves, the firebomb, the almost-kiss… and that damn storm of emotions he stirred in me. I rubbed my temples, willing my thoughts to settle, but they refused.Outside my window, the faint crunch of boots on the porch reminded me he was there—just outside, probably watching. Of course he was. Xves always was. That thought should have made me panic, made my chest tighten, but strangely… it made me restless. The more I thought about him, the more I felt trapped in my own head.I needed an escape. Not out of danger—though that was part of it—but out of myself. Out of this spiraling mess of thoughts that threatened to choke me. I need clothes. The boutique. People who didn’t know me as someone constantly teetering between panic and chaos. Somewhere normal. Somewhere I could pretend, if only for a fe

CHAPTER 108 — PLAN IN MOTIONMAYA'S POV“I have a solution,” Damian said, his voice low, urgent.I blinked at my phone. A solution? After everything? My mind immediately flashed to worst-case scenarios: more exposure, some twisted plan backfiring, me becoming the joke of the state. “Solution? What solution?” I snapped, the edge in my voice sharper than I intended.“Listen to me,” he said, and the urgency made my pulse skip. “This thing—it won’t blow over on its own. People don’t forget scandals. Not online. Not in a state like ours. But you can control the narrative.”I tilted my head, skepticism written all over my features. “Control the narrative? How exactly am I supposed to do that?”He hesitated for a fraction of a second before speaking again, slower this time, like he was weighing each word. “You fake a relationship. Publicly.”I froze. Literally froze. “What?” My mouth went dry, my eyes wide as I felt my entire chest tighten. “Fake… a relationship? Are you insane?”“No,” Damia

CHAPTER 110 — CONFRONTATION AT THE ESTATELARRY’S POVThe office smelled of power. Expensive, cold, commanding power. Leather chairs, polished wood, floor-to-ceiling windows that glared at me with the city below like a jury of millions. I wasn’t afraid. Afraid of her? Please. I respected her—well, feared her, sure—but I wasn’t quaking in my shoes. Not yet.Miss Davenport sat behind the massive mahogany desk, legs crossed, hands folded over a stack of perfectly aligned papers. She didn’t even glance at me as I entered. She didn’t need to. Her presence filled the room like a storm.“Mr. Jonathan,” she said finally, eyes lifting just enough to scan me. Sharp. Cold. Smarter than anyone I’d ever had to deal with. “Do you have any idea what a spectacle you’ve made of yourself?”“I… I—” I started, but the words died in my throat. There was no talking over her. Not now, not ever.Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me. Spare me the excuses. I’ve seen enough headlines in my lifetime to know when a