All Chapters of I DIVORCED HIM! NOW, HE REGRETS: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

CHAPTER 141 — TOO CLOSE TO BE SAFEMAYA’S POVFor a few seconds, I just stood there, frozen in the glow of my own phone light. The beam hit Xves right across the jawline, throwing sharp shadows over his face — the kind of shadows that made him look both dangerous and heartbreakingly human.He wasn’t supposed to look like that. Not at me. Not when I was already drowning in confusion.“Did I wake you?” I managed, even though my voice sounded smaller than I wanted it to.“No.” His tone was low, calm, but his eyes told a different story. They were searching, assessing, like he was trying to figure out whether I was okay… or whether he needed to pull a weapon. “You shouldn’t be wandering around in the dark, Maya.”I swallowed hard, forcing a smile that didn’t quite make it. “You say that like I have a choice. The lights went out, and my head maid decided to test out her horror movie skills by sneaking up on me.”That earned me the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth — a half-smile,

CHAPTER 143 — THE GALA TRAPMAYA’S POVBreakfast was supposed to be peaceful. The kind where you eat in silence, think about nothing, and convince yourself you have control over your life. But peace and I? We haven’t been on speaking terms lately.By the time I finished my eggs and toast, my phone buzzed again. Damian.I didn’t even need to check twice. I could already picture him — in his neatly ironed shirt, standing in front of his massive desk, hair slicked back like he was running a whole damn empire before noon.I sighed, picked up the phone, and answered. “You’re making my life tiring.”His voice came through, calm and clipped like always. “Change of plans. I sent you a new address. Meet me there in thirty minutes.”“Can’t I at least brush my teeth first?”“You can. Just be fast.”Click.No explanation, no context. Classic Damian.I dragged myself upstairs, showered, and put on something simple — white jeans, a cropped beige jacket, and boots. I didn’t bother with makeup; whate

CHAPTER 145 — THE GALAMAYA’S POVThere are mornings when your reflection matches your mood — messy, tired, undecided. Then there are mornings when the mirror gives you answers you didn’t know you needed. Today the mirror said, Ready. Dangerous. Beautiful in a way that didn’t ask for permission.I stood in front of the vanity, one heel dangling from my fingers, and stared at the woman I’d forced into armor the night before: the black gown, the slit that meant business, the neckline that negotiated attention without begging for it. The stylist had done her thing; Damian had done his (control remains his cardio), and now it was my turn to do something I was pathetically good at — pretend I had it all under control.Before I slipped on the second heel, I crossed to my laptop because dumb luck sometimes hides behind a blinking cursor. If there was anything to salvage tonight — anything to give me a lead on Marvin’s shooting or even a hint about Mr Watterson — it would be in someone’s cale

CHAPTER 147 — THE DESSERTS AND THE STRANGERMAYA’S POVI shouldn’t have smiled, but I did.Grace stood by the dessert table like she owned the entire catering setup. Her white apron was dusted with powdered sugar, her hair pulled into a loose bun that let a few curls fall around her face. Even from across the room, I could smell the faint sweetness of vanilla mixed with her perfume — something light, like gardenia and rain. The table beside her looked like a painting: éclairs lined in perfect rows, strawberry tarts glistening under the lights, and towers of macarons that looked too pretty to eat.“Wow, Grace! The dessert spread looks amazing,” I said, walking closer, pretending my heart wasn’t doing that stupid skip thing again.Her face brightened instantly when she saw me. “Thank you. It’s the first time our café is catering something this big, so…” she rubbed the back of her neck with a shy smile, “I wanted to do my best.”There was frosting on her wrist. A small streak, barely not

CHAPTER 149 – THE MACARON STRIKES BACK“Now then,” Gunther said, adjusting his cufflinks like the room belonged to him, “before we were rudely interrupted…” His gaze flicked to Grace, then back to me with a smirk that made my blood crawl. “I would like to date you.”For a moment, I thought I misheard him.“Sorry, what?”He leaned closer, lowering his voice just enough to make it sound conspiratorial. “I said, I would like to date you, Maya. Think about it — you and I. Power meets legacy. Beauty meets business.”He said it like a business pitch, not a confession. His words didn’t hold warmth, just entitlement — like he was offering me a deal, not a choice.I stared at him, blankly at first. Then the disbelief bubbled up. “To that I say…” I set down my glass, slow and deliberate, “no.”His face froze, then he laughed — an ugly, condescending kind of laugh that grated against the soft jazz playing in the background. “No?”“Yeah.” I tilted my head. “Short word, big meaning.”He blinked li