All Chapters of Divorced by my Billionaire Ex, Now He Wants Me Back! : Chapter 251 - Chapter 257

252Stella.The café smelled faintly of roasted beans and lemon cleaner, a contradiction I could almost feel pressing against my skin—comfort on the surface, tension simmering underneath. I slid into the booth across from the journalist Alex had chosen, a small, discreet woman with sharp eyes and the kind of patience that suggested she had survived more than a few corporate or political storms.Her notebook was open, pen poised, tablet on the table ready to capture audio, but she made no move to record immediately. Instead, she studied me, as if measuring not just my story, but my intentions.“I’ll be blunt,” she said, voice low, almost a murmur, “if you want this to run, I need guarantees. No leaks until corroboration. Children’s identities blurred. Primary sources only.”I nodded, relief flickering in my chest at the professional rigor. “Understood. We’re not here to create chaos. We’re here to get facts out safely.”Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Safe enough for whom? The sources? Yo

254Alex.The boardroom was colder than usual, though the sunlight cut through the windows in strips that fell across the polished table like prison bars. I stood at the head, feeling the weight of every pair of eyes in the room, every tensioned body, every assumption that they held about me, about my family, about the so-called “chaos” we’d brought to their tidy world.I laid the unsigned affidavit on the table, the paper crisp, stark against the mahogany. The typeface was formal, precise, almost bureaucratic, yet the contents were incendiary: the “strategic crash,” the directive to “neutralize an adversary,” the reference to orphans pulled into “protective orbit,” and the initials at the bottom: D.M.David’s lawyer snorted from his chair, the sound soft but audible across the room. “Inadmissible junk,” he said, with that practiced wave of disdain, as if the paper itself were absurd and beneath notice.Sophie, seated with an imperious poise, let a slow, deliberate smile curve her lip

256Josh.The airport smelled of coffee, recycled air, and the faint metallic tang of stress. Travelers bustled around, rolling luggage and clipped conversations forming a constant background hum. But our focus was a pinpoint: the VIP checkpoint, the private terminal corridor reserved for those who moved in a different orbit. Rico’s team fanned out with precision, and a detective shadowed us, blending in as we navigated the polished floors with calculated steps.I spotted her immediately. Sophie. Scarf immaculate, hair perfectly arranged despite the chaos around us, expression serene as if she had never been in the storm, as if the storm had always been hers to command. She smiled politely at the attendant, a movement so controlled it was almost mechanical. Every detail screamed deliberate control, every microexpression rehearsed.Rico stepped forward first, positioning himself between her and the line of agents approaching. His voice was calm but firm. “Flight’s delayed.”Sophie snif

258Stella.The house felt different in the light of day, though nothing had changed structurally. The locks were still on the doors, though fewer in number, and the security cameras remained, but their presence no longer screamed mistrust or fear. They were reminders, yes, of lessons learned, but not threats. I wandered through the quiet rooms, listening to the low hum of the refrigerator, the soft tick of the wall clock, and the occasional creak of the floor beneath my own feet. For the first time in what felt like years, the house breathed with us rather than against us.The twins were asleep, sprawled across a fort of pillows they had dragged from the living room into a makeshift fortress in the den. Blankets pooled around them in a chaotic halo, their small bodies finally relaxed, unguarded, the rise and fall of their chests slow and even. I crouched beside them for a moment, smoothing stray strands of hair from Eli’s forehead and pressing a gentle kiss to Emma’s temple. The weig