All Chapters of My Ex-Husband, You Will Never Hurt Me Again: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The clink of cutlery was the only sound filling the dining room.James was already halfway through his plate, chewing slowly, occasionally glancing up at the quiet tension thick in the air. Ryan sat at the head of the table, arms crossed, gaze shifting between his untouched food and the doorway.. waiting.Sophie finally appeared.She walked in like her body was here but her mind hadn’t caught up. Hair pulled back in a rushed ponytail, no makeup, bare feet padding against the tiled floor. Isla gave her a quick glance but said nothing, just finished placing the last dish.“Dinner’s ready,” Isla muttered, then turned and disappeared into the kitchen.Sophie took the empty seat between James and Ryan. She didn’t say a word. She couldn’t. Her hands felt clammy. Her thoughts were stuck in a loop.. Bruce isn’t Jonas’ father. Bruce isn’t Jonas’ father.And yet… he had raised him. Had he known all this time?If he did, why hadn’t he said anything? And worse.. what would he do now?The idea of

Third Person POVThe sound of heels pacing against marble echoed across the office.Selena was trying hard.. really hard.. not to lose it. But the effort was starting to show. Her usually perfect lipstick was smudged at one corner, and the tightness in her jaw made every step feel like a warning.Bruce didn’t look up from his desk.She paced in front of him like a caged animal.“You should’ve listened to me the first time,” she snapped. “I told you. I told you it was her.”Bruce leaned back slowly, tapping a pen against his desk. “We don’t know that for sure.”Selena stopped walking and turned to him, eyes wide, voice rising. “Are you kidding me right now? You think this is still a coincidence?”Bruce lifted a brow but stayed quiet.Selena took a deep breath. She had to calm down. But every nerve in her body was burning.“She got that message yesterday,” she said through gritted teeth. “I sent it. It was a trap, Bruce. And she escaped again. With Ryan DeMarco’s people.”Bruce finally

“A mob boss?”The words slipped out before I could stop them.I stared at the screen again, rereading the article I found for the third time, as if the letters would rearrange and turn into something else. Something easier to swallow. But they didn’t.Ryan DeMarco: suspected head of the DeMarco family, with rumored operations in Eastern Europe, North Africa, and the southern coast of Spain. Arms deals. Smuggling. Racketeering.All dressed up in expensive suits and luxury hotels. Hidden behind polished business fronts and clean PR.But the blood was there. Between the lines. Under the surface.I scrolled farther. Mugshots of old associates. Court records. Interpol whispers. A few close calls, but never convicted. Never caught.Jesus.I leaned back in the chair and rubbed my temples. My laptop sat open on the desk in my room, the lamp casting a soft yellow glow that felt too warm for what I was reading.Ryan had killed people before. I knew that. I’d seen it.But knowing he could do it.

I rolled onto my back and groaned.The sheets tangled around my legs like I’d fought a war in my sleep, but it wasn’t sleep that haunted me.. it was him.Ryan DeMarco.That balcony. That almost-kiss. His hand brushing my cheek. The way his voice dropped just before he walked away.“You should hate me, Sophie. Not want me.”God, I hated how that line stayed with me. I’d replayed it like a song stuck in my head. And worse, I’d replayed his lips.. how pink they were. How soft they looked. The way they hovered so close to mine, full of tension and heat and that maddening restraint that left me aching in places I didn’t want to think about.Would they have been rough or gentle?Would he have pulled me in or let me break first?Dammit.This wasn’t helping.I shoved the covers off and rolled again, burying my face into the pillow with a frustrated groan. I needed a mental reset. A cold shower. A lobotomy.My phone buzzed on the nightstand.I reached for it lazily, still face-down. But th

Third person POVSophie woke up slowly, the sun creeping through the sheer curtains, casting soft lines of light across the floor.At first, her mind was blank.Then she turned.. and froze.Ryan.Asleep beside her.Shirtless. In just his black briefs. One arm tossed behind his head, the other resting across the space where her body had just been.Her stomach dropped.“What the actual fuck,” she whispered under her breath.She stared for a second too long.He looked… relaxed. Human. Almost boyish with how the morning light caught the lines of his face. Completely unaware that he had just cracked open something in her life she couldn’t unsee.Sophie carefully slid out of bed, as quiet as she could, grabbing her robe from the chair. Her heart was hammering.She padded over to the dressing table, staring at her reflection like it might offer her answers. Her hair was a mess, her lips slightly swollen. Her skin still buzzed faintly in places he had touched.Fuck.She should have stopped it