All Chapters of The sweet revenge of a heartless CEO - Clifford Empire: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

*Gabe’s POV* What the hell? Rowan pulled my wife into a kiss? And damn it, it was way too long for my liking! I was so focused that I noticed when he let go of Olivia’s hand, she held onto it for a moment while staring at him, her nails digging into his palm. What the fuck was that? As soon as they let go, Rowan took a step back, serious, his fists clenched, his breathing visibly rapid. The housekeeper opened the door, and Olivia practically ran out, making me chase after her without time to say goodbye to Aneliese and Rarith. Olivia headed toward the estate’s exit gate, as if it were close enough to walk. I followed her. “Okay, if you don’t want to leave with me, I can at least take you to the street so you can get a taxi.” She kept walking, as if she didn’t hear me. I tried to catch up, and when I got close, Pumpkin started running, looking completely disoriented. I ran after her, like we were in a race she’d definitely lose in those high heels and inappropriate clothes. When I

*Gabe’s POV* I drove back home as if I’d just come from a funeral, such was the pain I felt from choosing to set Olivia free. I couldn’t even identify the sensations coursing through my body… pain, fear, anxiety, exhaustion… all jumbled together. As I parked my car in front of the Clifford mansion, I looked at the place. It had been a while since coming back here held any appeal. In fact, the only time I’d felt any desire to set foot in this place was when Olivia still lived here. Since she left, everything ended. The imposing structure reverted to what it always was—a pile of cold, lifeless bricks and cement. Love was a real pain in the ass! And maybe that’s why my parents never let that feeling take hold of them. In the end, by depriving us of affection, they became strong and didn’t suffer. I don’t know if their goal was for us to also be incapable of feeling anything, shielded from any emotion that could hurt us. Still, they failed. I couldn’t even say I’d move on because that

*Gabe’s POV* I went to the door to wait for my sister. As soon as she got out of the car, she came toward me like a bolt of lightning, her eyes blazing with rage. “Come in!” I said as she approached, but what I got was a slap across the face. I touched my cheek, which burned from the force of her hand. “I’m not stepping foot in this house… ever. But I came here to tell you one thing: stay away from my husband and my family!” Jorel appeared at my side in the doorway, maneuvering his wheelchair skillfully. “What happened?” he asked. “This son of a bitch broke Rowan’s nose,” she explained. “Damn! Why’d you do that, Gabe?” I laughed, still unable to take my hand off my face. Then I looked at my sister and asked, “Why’d I do it, Ane? What was his explanation?” “You’re a lunatic, Gabe! A despicable person!” “Because I broke your husband’s nose after he said he’d fuck my wife because she’s a slut? Damn it, Rowan did that right in front of us while saying goodbye to her! And want to

*Olivia’s POV* Ten days! Yes, it had been ten days since Gabe last reached out to me. No messages, no missed calls, not even a visit to the infirmary. And yes, I had asked for that break, but I never imagined it would hurt this much. It was as if a piece of me was missing, a part of my day, even if it was just to spark my mind into plotting some kind of retaliation, what he’d surely call revenge. I loved that bastard with every cell in my body, and if it hurt to be near him, being apart was even worse. But I knew how necessary this was. Not because I truly needed a break, but so Gabe could, through my absence, realize what he really felt for me. I got so desperate that I asked Rarith about him, but the little girl just said she didn’t know, obviously, and even asked if we weren’t “friends” anymore. I also didn’t know how things ended up with Rowan after the beating Gabe gave him. Still, I was intrigued by what Aneliese had said about Monica flirting with her husband, since I’d b

*Olivia’s POV* Being in a Ferrari with Jorel again didn’t bring back good memories. Though I was still alive, the last ride I took with him was a scare. “You… haven’t been drinking, have you?” I heard myself ask, apprehensive. “No… of course not!” he laughed. “I won’t make that mistake again, don’t worry.” I remembered Gabe saying his brother was a drunk addicted to gambling, and I wasn’t naive enough to think any kind of addiction could be dropped overnight. Still, if Jorel drank at the club, I wasn’t going back with him. I wasn’t someone who dressed poorly. I’d always been a fan of bright colors. Except for my wedding dress, which was truly meant to artistically reflect my “purple” emotional state, I usually knew what looked good on me. The choice of the pink tulle dress wasn’t random, especially since pink was one of my favorite colors, along with orange and yellow. And I knew Babilônia was the kind of place only frequented by financially stable people, to put it mildly—filthy