Todos os capítulos de After The Divorce, She Became The Nation’s Sweetheart: Capítulo 51 - Capítulo 60

The next morning arrived in a hush of sunlight and soft clatter from the kitchen.Steam curled lazily from the pot on the stove as Isabelle stood there, sleeves rolled neatly to her elbows. Her movements were steady and graceful, each small gesture tinged with quiet focus.She placed slices of fruit into a pink lunchbox, arranging them into tiny patterns before adding a few hand-shaped sandwiches to the side. The faint fragrance of strawberries and toasted bread lingered in the air.She had already dressed for her meeting with the agency later that morning, her hair neatly tied, and a soft glow from the sunlight brushing against her cheekbones.Across the table, Aimee sat in her uniform, her small feet swinging above the floor. She watched Isabelle intently, her eyes bright and curious. Her little fingers clutched her bag’s plush keychain as though it were a lifeline.“Almost done,” Isabelle murmured with a gentle smile, slipping a folded napkin into the lunchbox. “There. All set.”Th

The glass façade of Starlight Agency shimmered beneath the midmorning sun, a mirror of steel and light that reflected half the city skyline.Isabelle had just walked some distance to the building and a sheen of sweat had gathered at the top of her head. She had gradually calmed down over the walk. She was here for work and she wasn’t about to let it show that she was troubled.She paused at the entrance, her gaze sweeping over the familiar logo etched on the revolving doors. Six years. She hadn’t stepped foot here in six years. The air still smelled faintly of perfume, ambition, and coffee; the same cocktail of dreams and desperation that once used to define her world.With a small exhale, she adjusted the strap of her bag and stepped inside.The lobby gleamed with marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and the soft murmur of conversations layered beneath the echo of heels clicking briskly across polished stone. “Belle!”The bright, familiar voice sliced through the ambient noise.Isabe

The afternoon sun stretched long shadows across the pavement. Isabelle adjusted her bag on her shoulder, about to call a cab when her phone buzzed again.An unfamiliar number flashed on the screen.She hesitated for a beat before answering. “Hello?”A rich, low voice came through the receiver, smooth and teasing.“Dear sister, how are you doing today?”For a brief second, Isabelle was too startled to respond. Then realization dawned. “…Mr. Reed?”She had simply given him the number casually when he asked on the day of the script reading. She had never expected him to call, so it really took her off guard.There was a soft chuckle on the other end. “Ah, so you do remember me. I was starting to think you’d forgotten your on-screen brother already.”Her lips curved faintly. “Your voice is rather distinctive. Hard to forget.”“Flattery, Miss Monroe?” Vincent’s tone lightened with amusement. “Careful, I might start believing it.”“Then perhaps you should,” she replied evenly.He laughed. “

Riven paused by the doorway, the faint drizzle still clinging to his shoulders.For a heartbeat, he simply looked at her. Her face was faintly flushed from the kitchen heat, a wisp of hair falling over her cheek, and her eyes bright in the soft light.The corners of his lips curved. “Were you waiting for me?”The question was light, teasing, but Isabelle froze all the same.Only then did she realize how her voice had sounded too eager and warm, and she quickly straightened, brushing an invisible speck from her sleeve.“I was just surprised,” she said, her tone turning even again. “You’re late.”Riven hummed, loosening his tie as he stepped further in. “Yeah, there was heavy traffic unexpectedly.”He crossed the foyer and placed his jacket neatly over the couch arm. The faint scent of his cologne which was sharp, clean, and distinctly masculine drifted through the air, mingling with the aroma of soup from the kitchen.It shouldn’t have felt so… domestic. But it did.“Dinner’s almost re

Prime ManorBreakfast had just ended.The rain had cleared overnight, leaving the garden washed clean and bright. Isabelle sat at the long table with Aimee beside her, their sleeves rolled up, watercolor brushes in hand. A row of paper animals which were half-finished and full of color stretched between them.Riven sat across the room, his reading glasses low on his nose, scanning through a set of reports on his tablet. The atmosphere was quiet, almost cozy, save for the occasional splash of water against the paper and Aimee’s quiet giggles when her rabbit turned out more like a cloud.Her frequent giggles made the man look up occasionally and it was obvious how happy he was. Then came a knock at the door.Riven set down the tablet and rose. When he opened the door, a familiar, overly sweet voice greeted him.“Mr. Thorne!”Naomi stood there, smiling brightly. Relief flickered across her features at the sight of him, as though she’d won some unspoken lottery by not finding Isabelle in