All Chapters of MY CRUEL HUSBAND : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

PROPOSED WORK Maxwell’s POVFor a long moment, I could only stare at her — this pale, fragile woman lying on the hospital bed, wrapped in white sheets, speaking with a kind of quiet conviction that didn’t fit her weakened state. My mind spun. Her words replayed in my head, clear and deliberate.A company… fraud… she wants to help.I blinked, trying to steady my thoughts. “Who… who are you?” I managed to ask, my voice low but trembling with disbelief. “Are you a security officer?”She smiled faintly, her lips dry and pale. “No, Mr. Maxwell,” she whispered. “I’m a lawyer — or I was, until…” She paused, her gaze falling to her hands as if the weight of her past pressed on her chest. Then, with effort, she looked up again, eyes sharper now. “But I know how these things work. I’ve worked with an auditing firm before — we tracked a similar fraud case two years ago. The culprits thought they were invisible, but we dug them out, one by one.”I straightened, curiosity burning behind my disbel

SHE DISCOVERED MY IDENTITY.Anne's POV.The door swung open with a burst of hurried footsteps, Her breath came in short, panicked bursts, her hair slightly disheveled as though she had run the whole way here. Her eyes swept wildly around the room—searching, desperate—until they landed on me.“Anne?” Her voice cracked in the middle, both fearful and hopeful. “Oh, thank God—Anne!”It was Mrs. Halima, the woman who had hired me at the restaurant… the woman in whose restaurant I had collapsed. Her hands trembled as she pressed them over her chest, her relief slowly softening the tight lines around her eyes.“I thought—” She swallowed, shaking her head. “They told me there was a power issue. I—I panicked. I thought something happened to you again.”I locked my gaze on her and whispered, “Not at all.” I shook my head in rejection of her thought of bad things happening to me. My voice came out weak despite my effort to sound firm.Maxwell moved aside respectfully to give her space. Harris, w

BRINGING ANNE INMAXWELL POV.The call came the second I stepped out of Anne’s apartment.My hand had just released the doorknob when my phone buzzed violently in my pocket—an urgent vibration that sent a ripple of dread through my spine.I answered before the second ring.“Hello?”“Sir—Maxwell—thank God you picked.” It was my secretary, Tilda. Her voice was breathless, shaky in a way I had only heard once before—when the first set of funds went missing.“What is it?” I demanded.“It’s the investigation,” she blurted. “The security agencies… they said they can’t proceed.”I stopped walking. My steps froze mid-air.“Can’t proceed?” My voice lowered to a dangerous calm. “What did they say exactly?”“They said the trail… doesn’t make sense,” she replied. “They said it’s either internal sabotage so well covered that they can’t decode it—or someone inside is deliberately obstructing them.”My jaw tightened. “Someone inside?”“Yes, sir.” She swallowed audibly over the line. “Someone with hi

FRAUD WAS EXPOSED.ANNE'S POVThe moment Maxwell asked the question—Which member?—the entire surveillance room felt as if it stopped breathing.The lead forensic expert looked at me, then at Maxwell, then back at the fingerprint scanner as though hoping the machine would magically change its results.“It belongs to…” His voice thinned. “…a woman.”My heartbeat tightened. Only two women sat on the board—Mira and Zainab.“Who exactly?” I asked.The expert exhaled slowly, as if releasing something heavy.“Madam Anne… the fingerprint matches Zainab Omotosho.”The room fell into a thick, suffocating hush.Maxwell’s eyes flicked sharply to me, then back to the screen Not disbelief—shock.Confusion. A hint of suspicion he didn’t want to feel. I felt the tension coil around him.Zainab was known as the “conscience” of the board. Or so everyone said. But fingerprints didn’t lie.A few minutes later, word travelled faster than fire.Zainab burst into the surveillance room even before I sent for

MAXWELL — POVTime stopped the moment my hand touched her.Anne stiffened beneath my palm, her breath hitching sharply as if the air itself had betrayed her. I didn’t mean to grab her like that—God, I hadn’t planned it at all. My body moved before my mind could catch up, before reason or restraint could remind me of all the walls she’d built around herself.She turned slowly. Too slowly. Her eyes met mine—and everything else faded.Shock rippled across her face first. Then disbelief. Then something far more dangerous—raw awareness. The room, the chaos, the aftermath of betrayal and justice—all of it dissolved into the fragile space between us.She didn’t expect me. And I knew that hurt her more than I ever could.I locked my gaze on her, my chest tightening as I truly saw her—not as the brilliant legal mind who unraveled a web of corruption, not as the woman who saved my company—but as Anne. Strong. Scarred. Beautiful in a way that had nothing to do with symmetry and everything to do