Semua Bab Divorced by my Billionaire Ex, Now He Wants Me Back! : Bab 201 - Bab 210

201Dane.The restaurant smelled of old leather and cigarette smoke, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the table. Sophie was already there, her posture effortless, leaning back in the seat as if she owned the place. I didn’t comment; I had no illusions about her confidence. She thrived on it. She thrived on manipulation. I sat down across from her, keeping my hands on the table, fingers tapping lightly against the wood.“You got my text?” she asked, voice smooth, almost teasing.“I did,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral. “You said it was important.”She smirked and slid a thin black folder across the table. The sound of it hitting the wood was louder than expected in the near-silence. I opened it. Inside were spreadsheets, photographs, summaries of contracts, corporate movements, and notes she had clearly pieced together over weeks. My eyes scanned quickly. She had been thorough.“You’ve been busy,” I said, raising an eyebrow.“Busy enough to know exactly where Alex is vu

203Stella.I couldn’t shake the image of the words sprayed across our front gate, jagged and black against the metal: “YOU CAN’T PROTECT THEM FOREVER.” Even now, hours after seeing it, my hands still trembled slightly whenever I thought of it. I had tried, futilely, to brush it off as someone’s twisted sense of humor or a petty message meant to scare us. But the twins had no idea what danger lurked outside our walls, and I refused to let them feel my fear. So I plastered on the smiles, waved them off as I ushered them to breakfast, and pretended that the world outside our home hadn’t suddenly become an arena of threats and shadowy figures.Every movement I made was calculated to make them feel safe. I sat with them at the table, pouring cereal into their bowls, helping them butter toast, listening to their chatter about school and friends. But my eyes were always flicking to the window, scanning for anything unusual—a car idling too long across the street, a figure lingering at the e

205Josh.The first thing I noticed that morning was the weight pressing down on my chest. Not the usual routine stress, not the minor irritations that came with the twins’ schooling or Stella’s cautious fretting. No. This was different. Sharp. Like a blade running along the edge of my spine.I had seen the photos Alex had received. My mother—my mom, Mrs. Marwood—was now a potential target. And though my anger flared for all the right reasons—protection, blood, family—it wasn’t for her sake. Not really. The stakes were deeper, and the danger loomed around the twins. Any attempt on her life, any distraction, any staged chaos—it was a trap, a way to pull someone’s attention and strike where it mattered most: Emma and Eli.I parked a block away from the twins’ school, keeping my truck angled in such a way that I could see the entrance without being noticed. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I ignored it; right now, every sense had to be tuned to the streets, the crowds, the random flurry

207Stella.The morning sunlight filtered weakly through the blinds, but I barely noticed. My focus was elsewhere, sharpened by the weight of unease that had settled over our home like a persistent fog. The twins ran circles around the living room, their small feet pounding against the floor, voices laughing and squealing in delight. Yet beneath the surface, they were like delicate barometers of tension; every crease in my brow, every clipped word I exchanged with Alex, registered with them.“Mommy, are we going to the fair today?” Emma’s wide eyes fixed on me, and I forced a smile, though it felt heavy, strained.“Yes, sweetie. We’re going to have fun,” I said, keeping my voice light, even playful. I didn’t tell them that my mind was replaying the rental car from yesterday, that the same vehicle might still be lurking somewhere near our lives, a silent shadow waiting for a mistake.I packed the twins into the car, with Josh riding in the front and two of our most trusted guards in th

210Stella.The house felt impossibly still, almost holding its breath. I had woken to the faintest sound of the night still clinging to the corners—the hum of the city outside, the soft ticking of the hallway clock—but nothing could have prepared me for the scene that awaited me.I bolted upright in bed, heart hammering, because instinctively I knew. The backpack wasn’t there. Eli’s backpack. And then, in a surge of cold panic, I realized: the twins’ backpacks were not just missing—they had been taken.I didn’t pause to think. I was out of the room in a heartbeat, flinging open doors and scanning every inch of their room. The twins stirred, murmuring, sleepy and confused. Their small faces were the picture of innocence and fear, and it shattered me. I dropped to my knees, pressing myself against them, clinging. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Mommy’s here,” I whispered, trying to make my voice sound steady, comforting, while every part of me was screaming otherwise.Alex’s voice came through