All Chapters of The CEO's ex-wife is Untouchable : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

"They're asking again about the investor, ma'am."Marcelline's assistant, Claire, loyal despite everything, leaned close, lowering her voice to barely above a whisper.Marcelline exhaled slowly through her nose, keeping her expression neutral."Tell them he's on his way."Claire hesitated, uncertainty flickering across her face. "But we haven't confirmed—""I said tell them," Marcelline snapped quietly, voice sharp as a blade despite the low volume.Claire nodded quickly and hurried off, heels clicking rapidly against marble.It was yet another day of judgment, hopefully the last.The board members were already seated when she arrived, twenty-four faces ranging from cautiously optimistic to openly hostile. Lawyers in expensive suits with leather portfolios. Financial consultants clutching tablets displaying real-time market data. Representatives from the bank consortium that had financed Odette Global's expansion into three continents.Every powerful entity that had once waited eagerl

The name refused to change, no matter how hard Marcelline willed it to.It was impossible. But the paper—no, the name—lay there, staring back at her.Her eyes were locked on Julian, waiting for him to say something else, something that would make it all click, that would make sense of the chaos swirling inside her. But there was nothing. Nothing but the truth staring back at her.Her hand tightened around the paper. She felt the edges cutting into her palm as if it were some kind of punishment."You’re telling me..." Her voice wavered, barely more than a whisper, but enough for Julian to hear."...that he’s been behind this the entire time?"Julian didn’t flinch. His gaze was as controlled as always, like he had been expecting this moment. He nodded slowly, the faintest hint of recognition flickering in his eyes."Yes."The word landed with a dull thud in the hollow space between them. Marcelline’s hea

Kenneth Dunlap: Tomorrow evening. Riverside Park. East entrance. 7 PM sharp. Come alone, or the next video goes live at 7:01.Selene stared at her phone screen, hands trembling slightly.She was sitting in the corner of a cheap motel room, the kind with stained carpets and flickering lights and walls thin enough to hear every conversation in neighboring rooms. They'd been moving every two days since the mob incident, never staying anywhere long enough to be found.Always running.Always looking over their shoulders.Leon stood by the window, one hand holding the curtain back just slightly, watching the parking lot below with the vigilance of someone who knew exactly how hunted they were."He wants to meet," Selene said quietly.Leon didn't turn. "Where?""Riverside Park. Tomorrow evening. Seven.""Alone?""He said alone."Leon let the curtain fall and turned to face her, expression unreadable in the dim light."He's getting bolder," he said."Or more desperate," Selene replied, settin

The private lounge at the top of Adair Corporations was designed to intimidate.Floor-to-ceiling glass walls overlooked the city sprawling below like something conquered. Dark oak paneling absorbed sound, making every word feel weighted. Low lighting cast shadows that softened edges without offering warmth.Marcelline did not look at the view.She stood near the entrance instead, arms crossed loosely over her navy blazer, chin lifted just enough to signal she wouldn't be cowed by expensive architecture.Waiting.The door opened quietly.Rowan Adair walked in.He wore charcoal shirt—tailored perfectly, no tie, sleeves rolled once at the forearms in that deliberate way that suggested controlled casualty. Casual dominance.He stopped when he saw her, hand still resting on the door handle.For half a second, something flickered in his eyes.Not arrogance.Not mockery.Relief.

Kenneth Dunlap arrived at Rowan Adair's office building with a dubious amount of confidence masked in a suit.He'd made the appointment through official channels, using a shell company name that wouldn't immediately trigger security alerts. Said he was a consultant with information regarding a "legal matter of significant personal interest to Mr. Adair."Vague enough to get through the gate.Specific enough to guarantee the meeting.Now he sat in a waiting room that probably cost more than most people's homes, Italian leather chairs, original artwork on the walls, a view of the city that made you feel like a god looking down on mortals.Kenneth adjusted his tie and waited.He was good at waiting.Patience, after all, was how you survived in his line of work.The receptionist, a severe-looking woman in her fifties with the kind of face that suggested she'd heard every lie ever told, glanced up from her computer."Mr. Adair will see you now," she said crisply. "Conference Room B. Down t