Todos los capítulos de Love me again, Dear Ex wife!: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

Kayla’s POVThe walls of the apartments seemed to be closing in on me, and squashing by a few inches an hour, until the lungs were almost difficult to breathe. Those are the shadows of the light of the lamp, long, twitching, that cast themselves upon the floor in shapes which moved and stretched out toward me like fingers.Every sound from the hallway—footsteps, a door slamming, a muffled laugh—sent my pulse skittering. Every creak of the floorboards above me made my skin crawl. I clutched my phone tighter, my knuckles white, staring at the two messages that had already shattered what little peace I’d had left.You can run, but you can’t hide.Tell him yourself before someone else does.The words glowed on the screen, stark and merciless. My hands trembled as though the phone itself had turned to ice. Whoever it was, they weren’t bluffing. They knew. They knew about the baby.I pulled my knees to my chest, rocking slightly as fear coursed through me, hot and cold all at once. For year

Kayla’s POVThe note lay crumpled on the floor, but its words were etched into my skin like fire.He’s not the only one who wants you.I couldn’t stop staring at it. It was just paper, just ink, but it felt heavier than iron. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I pulled the curtains shut tighter until the fabric quivered in my fists. I slid the balcony door’s lock twice, then yanked it to be sure. The click echoed like a gunshot in the quiet.And still I felt exposed.Whoever left that note had been here, close enough to touch the glass, close enough to see me sitting on the couch, to see the way I cradled my stomach when I thought no one was watching.And I hadn’t even noticed.The realization made bile rise in my throat. My stomach knotted, nausea coiling inside me until I thought I might be sick.I paced the living room, clutching my stomach as if my trembling hands could shield the fragile life inside me. The lamplight threw long, jittering shadows across the walls. I could feel them

Kayla’s POVThe room was chaos—glass glittered like shards of ice across the floor, furniture stood crooked and broken, and the air reeked of blood, sweat, and fear. Damien and the intruder had crashed against the wall so violently the picture frames hung tilted, one even smashed to the ground. Every slam of their fists echoed in my skull, rattling through my bones until I thought my body would split apart under the weight of the sound.And then Liam.He stood in the doorway like a storm personified, his chest heaving, his eyes wild as they darted between the fight and me.“Kayla!” His voice thundered above the chaos, but I couldn’t respond. My throat was locked. My legs felt carved from stone. My mind screamed move, run, hide, but I was frozen, trapped in the horror unfolding before me.Two men. Two storms.And me—the fragile thread caught in between.Damien roared, his strength surging as he slammed the masked intruder into the wall. For a moment, the light from the hallway spilled

Kayla’s POVThe phone was on the floor, and its light was fading, mocking me, a dark lighthouse winking in an ocean of broken glass. But the voice--the voice--was still in my ears, piercing at my sanity with each repetition.I’ll take her when you least expect it.It replayed like a broken record. Not distorted, not disguised. Real. Familiar.I knew that voice. I would swear on my own life I’d heard it before. But my mind refused to place it, as if the truth was too terrifying to accept, as if my own brain had built a wall to protect me from it.My chest tightened painfully, my ribs caging my frantic heart. My breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, the room spinning around me.“Kayla.”Damien crouched in front of me, his knees cracking softly against the broken glass. His hand hovered near mine but didn’t touch, like he was afraid I’d recoil. His eyes were heavy with worry, his voice low, steady, careful.“Who was it? Do you recognize the voice?”I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

Kayla’s POVThe smoke curled and thinned, bleeding into the hallway, revealing the wreckage one fragment at a time. My lungs burned. My throat ached. The sting of glass in my palms pulsed with each heartbeat.But none of it mattered.Because through the haze, I saw them.Three figures.One with a hood still pulled low, the faceless shadow I’d come to dread. One with blood dripping down his temple, his dark eyes blazing—Damien. One with his shirt torn and jaw bruised, his breath heavy and furious—Liam.They stepped forward almost in unison, shapes blurring together until I couldn’t breathe.I pressed harder against the wall, my nails digging into the plaster, as if I could claw my way through it and vanish.“Kayla.”Damien’s voice. Rough. But was it him? The smoke made everything distorted, unreal.“Kayla!”Liam now. Sharper, more commanding, but his tone cracked in the middle, like fear had snuck in.The hooded figure said nothing. He only tilted his head slightly, as though studying