Todos os capítulos de No Second Chances, Ex-husband: Capítulo 91 - Capítulo 100

LAUREN'S POV Once again, I found myself slipping back into the old days of waking up early, long before the sun had fully risen. The alarm clock wasn’t even necessary anymore my body seemed to know, dragging me out of bed before dawn. I sat at the edge of the mattress for a moment, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and letting out a tired sigh. The air in the room was still cool, carrying that faint morning stillness that always felt both calming and heavy. Yes, today I had to report to headquarters early, and that was enough of a reason to wake up on time. But deep down, I knew that wasn’t the true reason I had stirred from bed at this hour. Something else had pushed me awake — responsibility, planning, and a touch of nervous energy. Last night, after we’d finished arranging everything perfectly in the house, I had wasted no time diving into something that had been at the top of my list since we landed: finding a new school for Aria. It weighed on me constantly. If I was going to be

LAUREN'S POV Some girls truly don’t have any manners. Not only had she ruined my phone, but she had also practically ruined my morning before it even really started. I let out a long, frustrated sigh, wishing I could delete the whole incident from my mind, though I knew it would be nearly impossible. My fingers still tingled slightly from the sharp smack she had given me, and my thoughts kept circling back to her shoulder bump, deliberate or not. If only I had noticed her name tag, I might have avoided all of this entirely. I tried to push it aside as I straightened my shoulders and walked toward the office, reminding myself that my focus needed to be on the meeting ahead. When I entered the office, the manager was just taking her seat, placing her phone carefully on the table. She had clearly been on a call, judging by the slight pink in her cheeks and the faint lingering sound of her words as she hung up. As soon as she looked up at me, a smile appeared on her face. A small, alm

LAUREN'S POV Tessa leaned in closer, her sharp gaze studying me with a seriousness that made me instinctively shift back in my chair. Her eyes narrowed, scanning my face as if searching for something beneath the surface, some hidden truth I wasn’t saying out loud. Then, before I could even form a sentence, her hand shot up and pressed lightly against my neck, testing my temperature like a worried mother. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm, though her touch lingered as if she genuinely feared something was off. I rolled my eyes, brushing her hand away gently. “Was that why you were suddenly behaving like this?” I asked, my voice carrying a faint edge. “Yes,” she said quickly, pulling her hand back but not looking away from me. “Because if you’re perfectly alright, then they must have switched my friend with someone else. Why else would you ask about that bastard?” Her voice cracked, emotion rising beneath the words. Ah, of course. That’s right. T

ETHAN'S POV I dropped the spoon on my plate with a soft clink, the sound sharp against the otherwise quiet dining room. The taste of the last bite of dinner still lingered faintly on my tongue, though I had hardly paid attention to the food as I ate. My mind had been elsewhere, circling around the night ahead. My tie, a black piece, hung loosely around my neck, waiting to be knotted. My white shirt, still unbuttoned halfway, exposed the firm line of my chest. I leaned back slightly, allowing my meal to settle as I reached for the napkin beside my plate. Behind me, like shadows, the maids stood in silence, hands clasped in front of them, their gazes fixed downward. They had been trained to wait, not to move until I gave a sign. And as soon as I dropped that spoon, their reaction was immediate. Several of them rushed forward, clearing the table with a kind of nervous urgency. The china barely rattled as they moved, but I could see the way their hands trembled ever so slightly. Good. T

LAUREN'S POV The manager followed the direction of my gaze, her head tilting ever so slightly as her sharp eyes scanned the room. A moment later, recognition flickered across her face. “Oh, Cassandra,” she said smoothly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “She’s my personal assistant. And…” the manager gestured with a subtle nod of her chin, “—she’s coming over here right now.” My lips pressed into a thin line. Of course, she was. Just perfect. Part of me felt relieved though. Finally, here was my chance — my chance to demand an explanation for her attitude toward me the last time we crossed paths. Normally, I avoid unnecessary interactions. People are exhausting, and frankly, most of the time, they aren’t worth the energy it takes to engage them. But this Cassandra… She got my attention with her attitude alone. She broke my phone. She smacked my hand away when all I had done was try to help. And she did it without hesitation, without remorse. At first, I hadn’t