Todos los capítulos de My CEO Ex-Husband's Regret: Chasing His Dying Wife Back : Capítulo 71 - Capítulo 80

Isabella stepped forward.Her heels clicked against the marble with slow, careful steps. Like she had all the time in the world. When she stopped right in front of me, I could smell her perfume. Something floral and obviously bat shit expensive, it clogged my throat.Then she just stared at me.Her dark eyes locked onto mine. Blank, emotionless but very cold.Ten seconds passed. Twenty. Thirty.Nobody spoke. The entire family just watched and waited.Fuck.My skin started crawling. Every part of me wanted to look away, fidget, do something to escape that stare. My hands itched to move. My feet wanted to shift.But I thought about Neomi's lessons. Stand tall. Take up space. Don't shrink.I thought about my mother facing this woman and losing.I thought about Ares somewhere watching this ‘show’ and seeing me squirm.Fuck him, fuck all of this.I straightened my back. Lifted my chin. Met Isabella's eyes and refused to blink.If she wanted to intimidate me, she'd have to do better.Somet

I took one step toward the exit and the Sterling family appeared out of nowhere. They crowded around me like vultures, blocking my path. Victoria, Margaret, Richard, Alexander, and Sophia. All of them staring at me with faces I'd never seen them wear before. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at them. "What do you want now?" My voice came out sharp and angry. "Haven't you done enough for one night?" But they didn't look malicious. Not like earlier when they'd been calling me a whore and questioning if Lucas was even Alexander's son. They looked confused. Shocked. Disbelieving. Victoria's mouth kept opening and closing like a fish. Margaret was pale and shaky. Richard looked like someone had hit him with a brick. Alexander stared at me with an expression I couldn't read. Something between shock and regret and something else that made my skin crawl. And Sophia. Sophia looked like she'd just watched her entire world shift on its axis. "Is it true?" Victoria final

Ilias led me through the crowd of reporters, his men creating a barrier on both sides. The cameras still flashed but at least they couldn't touch me anymore.We moved quickly toward a side exit I hadn't noticed before. Away from the main entrance where most of the chaos was concentrated."This way," Ilias said smoothly, like we were taking a pleasant evening stroll instead of escaping a mob.I tried to pull my hand free but his grip tightened slightly. Not painful, just firm enough to keep me moving."Where's Turner?" I looked around, trying to spot him in the chaos behind us."Your bodyguard? I'm sure he's fine." Ilias's tone was too casual. Too unconcerned.He’s fine? Didn’t Turner send him here? What exactly is going on? And where is he taking me?We pushed through the exit doors and into the cool night air. The noise from inside was immediately muffled, replaced by the sound of idling engines.A black limousine waited at the curb. Sleek and expensive, with tinted windows so dark

"IVY!" Turner's voice boomed through the door. "Ares! Ilias! Release her right now or I'm calling the police!"The pounding continued. BANG BANG BANG.Ares didn't even flinch. Just kept staring at me with those dark eyes like Turner wasn't threatening to bring law enforcement to his doorstep."I mean it!" Turner yelled. "Open this door! Ivy, are you okay?""I'm—" I started to answer but Ares's hand shot out and covered my mouth.His palm was warm against my lips. His body pressed closer, pinning me harder against the wall."Shh," he whispered against my ear. "Let Ilias handle it."I bit his hand.Not hard enough to draw blood but enough to make my point.He pulled back with a low laugh. "Feisty.""Get off me," I hissed.Ilias pushed off from the door, grinning like this was the highlight of his night. "I'll deal with the bodyguard. This should be fun.""Don't hurt him," I warned."Where's the fun in that?" But Ilias was already opening the door, slipping through and pulling it closed

I tore my eyes away from his chest and looked anywhere else. The window. The expensive art on the walls. The bar. Anything but him. But my gaze kept drifting back. To the way he sat in that chair like it was a throne. Legs spread. Arms relaxed on the armrests. Shirtless and completely aware of what he was doing to me. And all I could think about was that night on the balcony. The woman on her knees between his legs. Her head bobbing. His hand fisted in her hair while he watched me watch them. Heat pooled low in my stomach. Unwanted. Unwelcome. But there nonetheless. Before I could stop myself, my imaginations went down the gutter for a swim. I started to think… What would it feel like to kneel between his legs? To have his hands in my hair? To make him lose that controlled expression? Stop it. Stop thinking about that. But I couldn't stop. My brain was betraying me, painting vivid images I had no business imagining. Me on my knees. His hand guiding my head. That look in hi