Semua Bab Divorced by my Billionaire Ex, Now He Wants Me Back! : Bab 191 - Bab 200

191Alex.I met Harold Price in a quiet café on the outskirts of the city, the kind of place that looked like it hadn’t changed in fifty years. The neon sign flickered faintly above the door, and inside, the smell of old coffee and worn leather filled the air. He was already there, a stack of folders beside him, his gaze scanning the room like he expected trouble at any moment. And with my life lately, that didn’t feel impossible.Harold was old-school. I could tell immediately. No laptop, no tablet, not even a smartphone in sight. Just folders, a notebook, and a man who looked like he had been in law enforcement for longer than most people could even imagine. He had a slow, deliberate way of moving, like every gesture carried purpose. And the calm in his eyes—I’ll admit—it was oddly reassuring, given everything else that had been chaotic in the past months.“Alex Marwood?” he asked, his voice gravelly but measured. He stood as I approached, offering a hand. I shook it firmly. “I’ve h

193Alex.The envelope on the table earlier still weighed heavy on my mind, a grim punctuation mark that refused to let me sleep. Most people would have been intimidated by it—by the photograph of Harold Price crushed in his car, and the note underneath: “Stop digging, or you’re next.” Most people would have retreated, stopped asking questions, stopped following the threads. But me? That wasn’t an option. It never had been.If Harold had died because of the truth, then the truth would not die with him.I moved quietly around the house, careful not to wake Stella or the twins. My hands were steady, my mind sharp, as I opened the secure laptop Marcus had set up in the study. It was time to start connecting dots—tracing the driver, the crash, the financials, the people who had passed through the Marwood estate that fateful year.The driver. Harold had left me a stack of files, meticulous notes detailing inconsistencies in the accident report. The braking distances didn’t match the car. W

195Alex.I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen, the sergeant’s words repeating in my head like a relentless echo. His face was haggard, lines etched deep from years of worry, fear, and the weight of knowing he’d been forced into silence. The drive whirred quietly on my desk, the hum somehow louder than it should have been, as if the apartment itself was holding its breath. “The driver was only a pawn,” he said, voice cracking in the gaps between sentences. “The orders… they came from someone who had influence in both the police and the Marwood business network. I refused to file the original report, and… I was forced out.”I pressed pause, leaned back, and rubbed my temples. Every instinct I had screamed that the world I knew—my family, my company, my carefully structured life—was no longer intact. The Marwood empire I’d built, the business alliances, the people I trusted—they all now seemed like fragile glass under the weight of an unseen hand, and Eleanor’s death wasn’t just

197Alex.I ran down the street, heart hammering, every instinct screaming at me to catch the figure that had just vanished into the night. The city was quiet, far too quiet, and the darkness seemed to fold around corners like a living thing, swallowing the intruder before I could even get a decent glimpse. I cursed under my breath, my gloves scraping against the pavement as I pushed harder, but it was no use. Whoever it was, they knew the streets, knew the alleys, knew how to vanish.Marcus’s voice buzzed in my earpiece. “Alex, you lost them. They’re gone.” His tone was clipped, practical, but I heard the same frustration that I felt clawing at me. “I’m pulling footage from all perimeter cameras and street cams. You’ll have a lead in fifteen.”“Do it,” I said, breathing hard, chest heaving. “I want to know if that was someone connected to Harold’s—no, not just Harold’s death. This whole thing. It’s escalating. Someone wants to scare me off everything: Eleanor, the twins, Stella. Both

199Alex.The moment the message flashed on my phone, the cold knot in my chest tightened. It wasn’t just the threat—it was the implication, the calculated cruelty of it. Whoever had sent it knew exactly how to get under my skin, how to make me question every single second of peace I had fought to carve out for Stella and the twins. I didn’t hesitate. I never hesitated. Not anymore.I called Marcus first, keeping my voice even, controlled, but every syllable carried urgency. “Double the guards,” I instructed. “Every entrance, every exit. Make sure there’s constant surveillance on the twins, inside and out. No one leaves the property without my knowledge. You understand?”“Understood,” Marcus replied, his tone flat, professional. I knew he understood the stakes. He always did. He was good at anticipating threats before even I could fully see them. Still, I couldn’t shake the sensation, the eerie prickling at the back of my neck, the feeling of eyes lingering on the property even when t