บททั้งหมดของ No Second Chances, Ex-husband: บทที่ 161 - บทที่ 170

LAUREN'S POV The car rolled to a stop in front of what could only be described as… a disappointment. I blinked several times, staring through the tinted window, waiting for my brain to catch up with what my eyes were seeing. When Roman told me about this event, I imagined something entirely different — something extravagant, dripping in wealth and exclusivity. A towering skyscraper, maybe. A building that screamed power, like the Burj Khalifa or some high-end private estate tucked behind electric fences and armed guards. But this? The place sitting quietly before us looked like a tired old house, the kind you’d find in a forgotten neighborhood where the paint peeled off the walls, and the wooden stairs groaned from years of neglect. It reminded me painfully of the shared apartment I once lived in during college — creaky, small, and perpetually smelling like something was burnt in the kitchen. This house looked worse, honestly. The sight of it sent confusion swirling through me. “T

LAUREN'S POV “Hey, are you seeing this?” I whispered through the earpiece, my eyes narrowing on the man sitting a few rows away. “Yeah,” Roman’s voice came through, calm but edged with disbelief. “I’m just as confused as you are.” My fingers tightened around the paddle on my lap. Ethan? Here? That made absolutely no sense. My chest tightened with suspicion as I continued watching him — his sharp suit, the confident smirk plastered across his face, the way his uninjured hand lifted that bidding paddle like he belonged here. “Was he on the list of people who got invites to this event?” I asked quickly, my voice low so no one around would overhear. “No, I don’t think so,” Roman replied. “They only send out invites to CEOs whose companies are doing well in the market. And right now, Black Corporation isn’t healthy enough to even get an invite. So how’s he here?” I frowned, my mind trying to piece it together. “So he managed to find his way in here… and even though his company is tan

LAUREN'S POV Roman chuckled softly, his gaze flicking toward me — calm, unbothered, and utterly in control. He didn’t even have to say much; his silence carried authority. “Well, you can say something like that,” Roman replied to the host, his tone smooth and composed, his eyes still on me as if silently daring me to correct him. I felt my throat tighten. My pulse fluttered uncomfortably beneath my skin as I forced a small, polite smile. His gaze lingered longer than it should have, and I found myself turning away just slightly, pretending to be interested in the golden chandelier above. I wasn’t sure what to say or how to react. There was an odd heaviness in the air, a tension I couldn’t quite name. I wanted to tell the host that we weren’t what he thought, that Roman and I were just colleagues, maybe friends. But the words got stuck somewhere in my chest. Because deep down, I wasn’t even sure anymore. Were we just friends? The lines had started to blur lately — the lingering lo

LAUREN'S POV He let out a small smile after that moment of hesitation. It wasn’t hard to tell that he was a little embarrassed to admit it, the way his eyes darted to the side for a second and his fingers rubbed against each other gave it away. “It was when I was still trying to find out everything I could about you,” Roman said finally, his tone soft but steady. “So I called a friend of mine who’s really good at digging into people’s pasts. He looked into it and was able to find some things that weren’t in the media anymore.” My heart gave a tiny leap. That’s wonderful! I thought, trying to mask my excitement beneath a calm expression. So I was right all along — if Roman really had someone like that, someone capable of tracing buried stories and hidden details, then maybe… there was still hope. Hope to get justice. Hope to make Ethan pay for what he did. “That’s great,” I said, keeping my voice composed, though the idea burning in my mind was far from calm. Roman arched a brow,

LAUREN'S POV “Alright then, we’ll be taking our leave.” Roman stood, voice even and businesslike, as we both rose to our feet. I wrapped my fingers around the laptop Jeff had passed to me and carried it at my side, the machine a warm, solid weight that felt steadier than my stomach. Jeff extended a hand and Roman shook it. “Thanks for the help,” Roman said, earnest. There was no performance in it just a quiet appreciation that made my throat lift with gratitude for the man who’d opened that door for me. “You know you can always count on me,” Jeff replied, easy and sincere. “Thank you, really. I wouldn’t forget this. It’s been of great help.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and tried to adopt a tone as casual as theirs. Inside, the adrenaline from what we’d just done was still humming — a steady, dangerous undercurrent. We’d gathered a thread of truth tonight, and it felt like we’d already tied one end to the place where we could pull. Jeff grinned. “It’s all good. Don’t j