All Chapters of Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back: Chapter 171 - Chapter 180

ANTONIO.The room hummed, every surface alive with subtle vibration. The floor shivered in a low, steady pulse, the processors along the walls simmered with heat, and the encrypted channels overhead ticked in a rhythmic, almost hypnotic pattern as each one unlocked itself. The soundscape was a symphony built from circuitry and secrecy, one I had memorized long ago.I stood at the center of it all, perfectly still, perfectly composed, the calm axis around which the coming chaos would spin. Nothing in my stance betrayed the cold thrill moving beneath my skin. What I was about to unleash demanded precision, control, and a reverence that came only from years of waiting.A soft chime sounded, and then the first screen flared awake. A second blinked to life beside it, then a third, and in the next few seconds, ten screens had come alive.The entire wall lit up in a cascading wash of blue, a luminous mural of flickering feeds and stolen perspectives. Faces carved themselves out of the digita

CLARISSA.The car felt smaller with every mile I put behind us; shrinking, folding inward, and turning into a pressurized container for emotions none of us were ready to unpack. My hands clung to the steering wheel, my knuckles aching, my pulse thudding loud enough to drown out the sound of the road as I sped down. The heat coming off Bruce was impossible to ignore. He sat slouched, fighting his injuries with the same stubbornness he fought everything else. Sweat clung to his brow, and every breath he took sounded so ragged, but he wouldn’t let himself collapse. Bruce never collapsed.And behind us sat Freda, the woman he had chosen over me, the woman who had sliced me open in ways I still didn’t have the words for. The woman who now looked like I had climbed out of hell barefoot.I caught glimpses of her in the rear-view mirror: fingers twitching, her eyes glassy, her hair matted with soot. Dried blood stained the side of her neck. Her lips trembled

CLARISSA.The industrial ruins looked dead from the road, an expanse of skeletal metal and collapsed roofs, all jagged edges and hollow shadows. But the moment the car rolled to a stop and I stepped out, I felt the vibration. It was subtle at first, like the hum of a generator far beneath the earth, barely strong enough to stir the dust under my shoes. But it was steady, intentional, and mechanical.I turned to Bruce to see that he felt it too. Even with burns crawling up his arms and bruises darkening his jaw, something in him sharpened. His eyes narrowed, scanning the ruins with the sick familiarity of a man who had seen too many places pretend to be dead.Freda stood still as stone, her wide eyes reflecting the wreckage. Her breath hitched like she expected the ground to split open beneath us.I swallowed hard. This place wasn’t abandoned. It was masked, just like the person who built it.The three of us spread out without needing to discu

ANTONIO.I stood silently behind the reinforced glass of the observation chamber, invisible as I watched the group assemble beneath the failing lights like moths drawn to a dying flame. Clarissa reached Marcus first, her breath sharp, frantic, hitching in her throat the way they always did when fear and responsibility tangled inside her. Bruce hovered a few feet behind, every muscle locked, his jaw grinding, his shoulders squared in a desperate attempt to look unshaken. It didn’t fool me. Nothing about Bruce ever fooled me. Freda trembled like a rattled wire. Devan’s eyes darted everywhere, trying to stitch meaning together from a puzzle with half the pieces missing. Isabella on her own part masked panic with sheer force of will, her spine straight but her fingertips subtly trembling.Perfect. They moved exactly the way I expected them to, exactly where the system predicted they would stand, and exactly how it predicted they would react.I folded my

CLARISSA.The world narrowed to a single blinding point the moment I saw my father tied to that chair. He sat beneath a stark overhead light that carved every line of strain into his face, his wrists bound so tightly the ropes buried themselves into the skin. The others shouted my name, but their voices sounded like they were coming from somewhere far behind thick glass.I didn’t care. I ran.My knees hit the concrete as I skidded to a halt beside him. “Dad—Dad, look at me,” I whispered, grabbing his face as if I could anchor him back into reality. His eyes fluttered open, raw with pain but still trying, always trying, to protect me.“Clarissa—don’t—” he rasped, tugging weakly against the ropes. “It’s not safe—”But I already had my hands on the knots, tugging, clawing, and shaking them with urgency. “I’m not leaving you,” I muttered, my teeth clenched.