All Chapters of The CEO's ex-wife is Untouchable : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The soft clink of cutlery against fine china filled the air, barely cutting through the tense silence between them. Rowan sat at the head of the table, his posture perfect, his movements deliberate and calm, as though this was just another evening. It was a simple dish, spaghetti with carrot sauce, yet it's aroma felt too heavy, too thick in the air for Selene to stomach.Her mind was consumed by questions: Did Maxwell tell him? Did he know?She couldn’t afford to let him know. Not yet. Not until she had everything in place.Her pulse quickened, but she smothered it. Her expression remained neutral, controlled, even as the weight of his confession threatened to suffocate her.Rowan’s eyes flickered to her plate, then to her face, but he said nothing. His gaze was as cold as always, as though nothing in the world could rattle him. She met Rowan’s gaze, forcing herself to smile, even as the knot in her stomach twisted tighter with each passing second. “You wanted dinner,” he said, tone

Selene's mind was already spinning with everything that had happened tonight—the dinner, the tension, and Maxwell. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for the doorknob to the guestroom that Leon had directed her to, and when she pushed it open, she didn’t even bother to glance around the room. Her thoughts were too scattered, her anxiety too thick.The room was luxuriously furnished, but Selene didn’t care. She dropped her purse onto the bed with a thud, her mind immediately shifting to the most important thing at the moment: Maxwell.Where the hell was he?Her fingers hovered over the phone, and she dialed Maxwell’s number. She waited, watching the screen light up with each passing second. Ring… ring… ring… no answer.The panic slowly crept up her spine, tightening, suffocating. She had been expecting him to pick up, expecting to hear his gruff voice on the other end of the line, but there was nothing.She tried again.And again.Still nothing.Her heart began to race, and befo

The air in bar was thick with spilled beer, a familiar perfume that Marcelline had come to embrace as the scent of her own ruin. She was perched precariously on a stool, knees bumping the brass rail, her head resting heavily on the shoulder of the bartender whom she discovered wasn't a good person because why would he call the one enemy of her she wanted to avoid. He was murmuring something placating, she didn’t hear him. She was suspended in that sweet, heavy zone where the world felt blurry and distant, yet profoundly important.Then, the bell above the entrance chimed, a sharp, unwelcome intrusion into the soft, alcoholic hum of her existence.Her head lifted slowly, like a cracked porcelain doll, following the sound. Framed in the rectangle of sickly yellow light, a man paused, scanning the room with that characteristic stillness that always announced his presence. Rowan.The sight of him was like a shot of adrenaline straight into her bloodstream, instantly converting her passiv

The first rays of sunlight pierced through the guest room windows, and Selene's eyes fluttered open with a sense of vindication curling in her chest. She was still here. Still in his penthouse. Still exactly where she'd decided to be despite his demands.“Leave before dawn.”His words from last night echoed in her memory, cold and dismissive afyer their possibly dinner. As if she were some common hookup he could just dismiss with a wave of his hand. As if years of understanding between them meant nothing.Her eyes flew wide open.She bolted upright, hair falling over her face, the soft robe sliding off her shoulder. A robe that— She froze and stared down at it.This wasn't hers. It was Leon’s—the one he’d handed her before..... Maxwell's issue.“Oh my God,” she muttered, running a shaky hand through her hair. “I overslept. I overslept. Wait—what time is it?”She grabbed her phone.7:12 a.m.Dawn had passed long ago.Rowan’s voice echoed in her head like a courtroom verdict:Well, she'

The room went dead silent.Selene stopped mid-breath. Marcelline’s head snapped up. Both women stared at him, stunned—because Rowan had been silent the entire time. And now this.Slowly, Rowan looked at her.His face was unreadable, but his eyes were hard, decisive. There was no anger in them, only finality. The kind that meant this wasn’t a threat. It was an order.Selene swallowed.The meaning was unmistakable.Marcelline inhaled slowly, steady as ever.“Let me leave,” she said calmly, as if offering peace instead of retreat.Before she could take a step, Rowan reached out.His fingers closed around her hand.He didn’t speak. He didn’t explain. He just held on firm, grounding, deliberate.A quiet refusal.That was when Leon entered the living room.Rowan’s assistant took in the scene instantly and turned to Selene, his tone clipped, professional.“It’s over,” Leon said. “You need to leave. Now.”Selene’s eyes flicked between Rowan and Marcelline, lingering on their joined hands. Wh