All Chapters of No Second Chances, Ex-husband: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

ROMAN’S POV A few minutes ago, I was trying to escape the clingy grip of a girl I barely knew. She had latched onto me the moment I stepped through the entrance of the club, acting like we had been close for years. In reality, I had only exchanged a couple of words with her outside before walking in. Since then, she had been glued to my side, laughing too loudly, brushing against me every chance she got, and making it painfully clear what she wanted. Money and sex. That was all. Nothing more, nothing less. It was the same old story, the same routine I had grown sick of. Everywhere I went, I met the same type of woman. Beautiful faces, perfect bodies, fake laughs. They didn’t care about who I was beyond the thickness of my wallet or what I could offer them in bed. They wanted status, expensive dinners, shopping sprees, and a night of bragging rights that they had been with Roman Hale. None of it felt real. None of it touched me in any meaningful way. But right now, sitting a few ste

ROMAN'S POV “I thought you said you were not interested in bringing me to your bed?” she asked, her index finger trailing lazily down my chest. The touch was feather-light, yet it carried a weight that pressed against every nerve in my body. My throat felt dry as I tried to gather my words. “I brought you here to help you,” I said, keeping my voice even though I could feel the heat creeping up the back of my neck. She tilted her head, her lips curling into a teasing smirk. “So now that you’ve helped me, now what?” I inhaled slowly, steadying myself. “Well, you obviously can’t go back down there for now. At least not until the alcohol fully leaves your system. You can rest here.” She sighed dramatically, tossing herself back against the pillows before leaning toward me again. “That’s too boring. When I’m finally in the mood for some fun, you turn into a buzzkill.” I exhaled a short laugh, though inside, I was anything but relaxed. She doesn’t mean that. This isn’t her. The alcoh

LAUREN'S POV When I woke up in that bedroom this morning, my head felt like it had been filled with smoke. Everything was blurry, and I could hardly remember what had happened last night. My mind kept replaying fragments like broken pieces of a film reel. The last thing I remembered clearly was telling that jerk that I wasn’t going to drink alcohol. I had been firm about it, so certain that I wouldn’t let myself fall into the trap. My head pounding like a drum, knowing that somewhere along the line, I’d lost control. Immediately the fog in my brain started to thin. The memories began to return, slow and sharp like needles piercing through my skull. I remembered drinking, far more than I could handle. I remembered the heavy weight in my chest when I realized my body couldn’t take any more. I had told him no. I had told him over and over that I wasn’t interested, that I didn’t want to drink, that I wasn’t that kind of woman. But it didn’t matter. Somehow, in the chaos, in the heat

LAUREN'S POV I sat there, completely frozen, my mouth hanging wide open as my eyes locked onto someone I never imagined I would see again. My heart gave a startled thump, my breath catching in my throat. For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating. It was him. The man from last night. Every detail of him stood out as if my memory had sharpened under a spotlight — the sharp line of his jaw, the confident arch of his brow, and that infuriatingly smug expression he carried like a second skin. He was walking calmly, purposefully, heading straight toward the desk in front of me as if the entire entire thing belonged to him. But how? How in the world had he found me here? I hadn’t told him where I would be this morning. And even if by some strange coincidence this wasn’t about me, then what was he doing here of all places? Why was he dressed in a suit, looking like he’d just stepped out of some high-profile business magazine? My thoughts spiraled rapidly. Could it be that he had also

LAUREN'S POV “You want me to purposely refuse you this job opportunity without even getting to know if you’re fit for the job because you think I might take revenge on you for how you spoke to me last night?” he asked, his voice firm and steady, while leaning back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. His eyes locked on me, sharp but unreadable, and that casual confidence in his tone made me shift uncomfortably in my seat. “I don’t think so, I know so,” I replied, refusing to break eye contact. My words came out harsher than I intended, but my chest was already tightening with nerves. His lips curved into the faintest smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You speak like you’ve known me forever when we only just met yesterday. And I’m not as childish as you think. I’m disciplined, Lauren. I know how to separate my personal life from my business life. I don’t mix them, no matter what. So I wouldn’t take any sort of weird revenge you think I would. Relax.” He re