Semua Bab Did I Steal My Fiancé’s Ex Identity: Bab 141 - Bab 150

Lisa’s POV Around eleven, Dwayne, the asshole partner, passed by. He saw me, and his smile turned into a frown. He moved like someone who expected a standing ovation.He did not stop. No need to.I had already humiliated him.It was enough for him to look across the room and enjoy the attention. He did not have to speak to be noticed.I tried not to watch him. I had learned how not to fight every small thing. The work would speak in time. If I kept making the right moves, it would matter more than his attempt to bring me down.At noon, Joan came by my desk with a paper cup and a sandwich. She set them down like a peace offering and sat for a minute. “Lunch delivery,” she said cheerfully.“I didn’t order anything.”“I know. I did. You’ve been at your desk since morning, and I figured you’d forget to eat.” She placed them in front of me. “My treat. Don’t say no.”I smiled for real that time. “Thank you. You didn’t have to.”“Please. It’s the least I can do for the woman who finally sh

Andre's POV “Let go of me,” Diane hissed. “You are hurting me.”I did not let go. I pulled her out of the room. I dragged her down the hall to my office.I walked out, pulling Diane by the arm. Once we reached the hallway, she kept complaining.I made a decision then. I would not let her turn the board into a battlefield while the plan sat on a table. Despite her complaints, I kept walking.I pushed her inside my office and closed the door.She reached out and touched my arm, a small motion that would have ruined many men who did not know her. “You didn’t have to drag me like that,” she said, rubbing her wrist. “You’re so rough sometimes.”I didn’t answer.It was quiet, just the two of us.“How did you become a stockholder?” I asked. I wanted to know what was going on in her head. I wanted to know if it was a hostile move or a sign of a deeper plan.She leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. “I told you. My father,” she said, as if that explained everything. “He gave me his s

Lisa's PovI asked for details because questions have a way of making truth feel less heavy. “What happened exactly?”She told me the story in the kind of way people tell stories who have lived in them. Carlos had been in a school program. He had special needs. He did not handle a crowded classroom well. A classmate had pushed him. Carlos had reacted. The school had called for a strict response. They wanted to press charges. They wanted a clear case on the record.“We could not afford a fight,” Maria said. “It was our word against the school’s. The law looked against him from the start. Then you stepped in. You picked up his file, and you did not let it go. You asked the right questions. You found witnesses. You made the court see what we were trying to say. The judge listened. He let Carlos go to a program instead of putting his name on a record.”Every time she said a detail, I saw a small shard of something in my head. It was like a doorway opening and closing too fast. A name here

Andre's POV I was not supposed to be at the mall that day. I had only gone there because the office air felt too tight, and I needed to clear my head. I walked through the lower floor, half paying attention to the store windows. I was thinking about the last board meeting and Diane’s smirk when she spoke over me. It still bothered me. Diane had turned the board against me in ten minutes. I needed to move my feet and clear my head.I walked past the shops and watched people moving in small groups. The noise of the place was normal. Kids with candy. Couples with shopping bags. Businessmen on phones. It felt like a slice of life that had nothing to do with the trouble I had waiting at the office.Then I saw Patrick. He was near the Shein boutique in the mall. I almost did not recognize him because he was facing the other way. His high shoulders and the way he held his jacket made him easy to spot. He had shaved his beard down and grown a little, making him look a bit rough. He looke

Andre's POV I drove home slowly than I needed to. I had a lot on my mind. The note Patrick had handed me sat in my jacket pocket like a stone. Rachel and Diane are related. The sentence kept repeating in my head. It did not make sense, and yet it felt like a key for a lock I had never noticed.My house was in an estate in the middle of the city. I had not spent much time here lately… because of Diane. But the board meeting had pissed me off, and the message from Patrick had confused me. I needed to confront her. I had to know the truth.The front door was open when I arrived. That should not have surprised me. Diane had always treated the place like a hotel room she could move into whenever she liked. She was in the living room. She had a glass of my wine in her hand and a smile on her face. She stood as I walked in and came over like she had rehearsed a greeting.“You are home,” she said, and her voice held a kind of triumph. “I knew my speech at the meeting might have brought