All Chapters of The Billionaire's Ex-wife Comeback : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Freya's POVMorning came like a thief,soft, slow, and uninvited. The golden sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains in faint stripes across the floor, creeping silently up the side of the bed. Normally, that soft hue would bring peace or maybe even a sense of new beginnings. But not today.Today, the light only exposed what my heart still carried,fear, confusion, and a sharp pang of regret that I felt. I stirred slowly, and as if waking up from a nightmare, only to realize I had not left it behind.I should have felt grateful. After all, I was alive. The attack on me had failed last nightBut instead, I felt hollow. Haunted. Trapped remembering what happened last night.The panic returned like a flame licking at dry wood.I threw off the covers and scrambled out of bed, feet landing harshly against the cold tiles. I didn’t bother with a robe. My body moved on instinct, barely registering the ache in my limbs or the stiffness in my neck. Every hallway looked darker. Every corner w

Freya’s POV I didn’t realize I had gone pale until Lucas reached across the table and touched my hand gently.“Freya? What is it?”I stared at the phone clutched in my trembling hand. Cara’s words echoed over and over in my mind, louder than the jazz music playing in the background, louder than the blood rushing in my ears.“I think you should come to the hospital. Now.”No elaboration. No detail. Just urgency. Dread.I rose on shaky legs. “I need to go,” I said, almost to myself. “It’s Henry. Something’s… something’s wrong.”Lucas was already sliding his coat on, reading my panic instantly. “Come on. I’ll drive.”I nodded, clutching my handbag like it was the only thing anchoring me. As we rushed out into the chilly dusk air, my thoughts spiraled in a thousand directions. The last time I had seen Henry, his blood was on my hands,literally. His body crumpled beside mine, his breath shallow, eyes fading.What if that was the last time?What if he never woke up?What if the last words

Henry’s POVFreya’s exit was swift. Silent, but thunderous in its finality.She didn’t say a word. Didn’t look back. She moved like someone who had been burned too many times and had finally learned not to reach for the fire. And I watched her go, helpless to stop her. My chest rose and fell with labored breaths, the painkillers dulling the sting in my body but doing nothing for the sharp, searing ache in my heart.The door clicked softly behind her. But the sound wasn’t gentle,it was final. Like a gavel coming down. A verdict delivered. A sentence passed.She left because of Linda.Linda, who was already standing at the door when Freya was here. Who had watched that moment,our moment,from the threshold, her arms folded, her eyes narrowed. I hadn’t even realized she’d arrived until I saw the shift in Freya’s expression, the way her spine straightened and her eyes shuttered all at once. It was the same expression she wore every time she’d had to endure more than she could take.And thi

Henry's POVThe room was quiet,too quiet. Not the comforting kind of quiet where you feel safe and tucked away from the world, but the kind that pressed down on your chest and made every breath feel like it echoed off the walls. Even with the steady, mechanical beeping of the heart monitor beside me, the silence felt oppressive. It wrapped around me, thicker than the hospital blankets, making me aware of every ache in my body and every regret in my soul.I lay still, my body sore from the surgery, stitches tugging at my side with each shallow breath. The light above me was dimmed to a dull, yellowish glow,artificial and cold, casting long, sharp shadows on the ceiling. Occasionally, the flicker of headlights danced across the blinds from the street outside, painting brief, ghostly shapes on the walls. It reminded me of how fleeting everything is,how quickly light passes, how quickly warmth fades.Freya and Linda had left hours ago.Even now, I could still feel the ghost of Freya's pre

Henry's POVThe finality of everything my uncle said to me was echoing louder than it should have in the sterile quiet of the room.I stared at it for a long moment.Maybe he was right.His words,harsh, unfiltered, but painfully true,coiled around my chest like vines, tightening with each breath. He had always been the one who saw through my polished image, through the power suits and conference calls, right into the chaos I tried to tuck neatly behind a perfect life.You can’t keep dragging two women through your indecision.He said it like it was simple. Like choosing between duty and desire, past and present, was just a matter of flipping a coin. But what if both sides were scarred?I ran a hand through my hair and stared out the window. The city pulsed in the distance, uncaring, indifferent. Cars zipped down the highway. People lived their lives. No one outside these four walls knew what it felt like to be me in this moment,broken in body, split in heart.A soft knock at the door