All Chapters of After He Took It All: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Axel’s POVThe stinging on my cheek was nothing compared to the phantom burn in my chest.She slapped me. Brielle slapped me, and honestly, she should have done it sooner. Maybe it would have knocked some sense into my head.She walked out, just pushed past me like I was a piece of furniture, and every word she threw at me was still echoing, loudly in my head. You’re just like Jason.It was the worst thing she could have said. It tore through every delusion I’d clung to, every excuse I’d made up about how my control was protection, how my planning was love.She saw past the tailored suit and the nice apartment and the baby announcement, and she saw the ugly truth: I was trying to own her. Just in a more sophisticated, legally sound way than Jason.I just stood there, breathing in the cold, sterile air of that guest suite. I couldn't follow her. Not immediately.The moment she said that, everything inside me went rigid. If I went after her then, I wouldn't be able to talk. I’d just gr

Brielle's POVThe taxi had the smell of old coffee and wet wool. I didn't dare look back, not even once. My neck was practically fused into a straight line, staring forward through the smeared rear window. The city lights just dissolved into streaks of yellow and red because of the rain.Everything was moving too fast and too slow all at once. It felt like I was riding on a wave of pure panic.It had been barely one hour since I slammed that door and heard the lock click. One hour since I looked at those papers and everything I thought was real crumbled into a pile of ash.Axel. God, Axel. The very sound of his name in my head made my stomach twist up again, that acidic burn coming back.The cab driver, a guy with a serious beard and a radio playing some kind of smooth jazz, glanced at me in the rearview mirror once. I must have looked like a wild animal that'd been cornered.My eyes were wide, my breathing was shallow, and I was clutching the small backpack to my chest so tight like

Brielle's POVThe air here was damp and cold. It was heavy with the smell of diesel and something foreign—something green and woodsy, even at the airport. It wasn’t just the smell that was foreign; it was everything.The signs, the quick, clipped cadence of the German language that tumbled around me—it was all a wall. I felt the exhaustion of the flight, the lack of sleep, the sheer terror of the past twenty-four hours, just crashing down on me. I was a kite cut loose in a storm.I managed to fumble my way onto a train heading toward the city center. I had no idea where I was going, but I figured I needed to be central and anonymous.My resources were pitiful: a backpack, maybe three thousand euros left, and the clothes on my back. And those papers.Finding a place was a nightmare. I couldn't risk anything that took my ID or required a credit card. After walking for what felt like hours, hauling the backpack, I found a terrible little hostel near the train station. It smelled like old

Brielle's POVWow. The new apartment I was to start living in was small, sterile, and furnished with the kind of bland, beige furniture that screams, "I am transient." But it had a sturdy lock, a functional kitchen, and it was a fifteen-minute walk from St. Johannis Klinik.After the grimy stench of the hostel, this felt like a bunker. A safe, clean space where I could finally, truly breathe.I paid the landlord—a silent, stout man who preferred cash and zero questions—for six months upfront. It drained the last of my panic cash, but I didn't care.Now, with Dad's signature secured and the first emergency transfer made from his one remaining functional account, I had resources again. Not Axel money, not world-shaking billions, but enough to establish a foothold. Enough to fight.The first few days were a blur of administrative hell. It was like I’d opened a spigot of paperwork, drowning me in German legal forms and corporate jargon.I spent twelve hours a day either at the hospital—s

Brielle's POVI screamed. That’s all I remember doing for the first few seconds. Just this loud, animal sound that echoed off the damp brick walls. My whole body was ready for him to grab me, ready to kick and bite and use my nails. I didn’t care if I got caught; I just cared that he didn't take the documents, and he didn’t find out about the baby.The man in the overcoat—Axel’s guy, I was completely sure—took another slow step. His face was still blank, completely without human emotion, and he looked like he was about to put his hands on me.“What do you want?” I shrieked, backing further against the fence, the wire cutting slightly into my coat. “Tell Axel I won’t go back! Tell him I have the papers! I know what he did! I swear to God, if you touch me, I will find a way to ruin him!”I was yelling in English, pure, desperate fury fueling every word, and the noise felt huge in the tiny alley.Then, the man did the most bizarre thing. He stopped. He didn’t reach for a gun or a taser