All Chapters of Loved by My Ex-husband's Rival. : Chapter 21 - Chapter 27

Dr. Mendel's office smelled excellent. Next to a stack of art books and a ceramic bowl full of smooth stones, the lemon oil diffuser sat on a side table. Angela had been coming here for six weeks, which was long enough for her to know that everything in the room had a purpose. The warm lighting was set up to soften the shadows, the comfortable chairs were angled so that they didn't feel like an interrogation, and the window looked out over a small garden where nothing had to bloom out of season.Angela took her sketchbook with her this morning. Dr. Mendel never told her to bring it, but the therapist had said once that sometimes the hands knew things the mouth hadn't learned to speak yet. Angela had begun leaving the sketchbooks on the side table after sessions. Dr. Mendel would look through them carefully before giving them back, never saying anything about the pictures themselves but sometimes bringing up a specific drawing weeks later, as if the drawings were a language they were b

Angela was twelve minutes late to the café, but she convinced herself that it was okay because of the traffic on Sunset Boulevard. The truth was more complicated: she had spent hours at home thinking of why this was a bad idea before eventually deciding to step out. She had been trying to convince herself that seeing Alex outside of work would be okay. Businesslike, formal, nothing more. The years had given her enough time to heal the emotional wound of Alex’s betrayal. That she could sit across from him and not remember exactly how she had felt when she found out he was cheating on her back in college. The way her stomach had dropped, the way the world had tilted sideways, the way she cried her heart out. The courtyard café at Silver Lake was just like Alex had said: plants spilling over every surface, a little water fountain, and furniture that didn't match yet looked like it had been carefully chosen. It should have been romantic. Angela was set on not feeling anything romantic

JAVIER'S POVJavier got to his flat at seven in the morning with two cups of coffee. His slow steps and visible eye bags gave away how tired he was from being up until three in the morning, putting papers in order. His modest study was full of printouts—financial accounts, property data, and pictures of people whose names appeared greatly in Monroe Rourke's several holdings. His mentor Larry Brennan taught him this: never start an inquiry without knowing what you're doing. First, make a map of the area. Before you get in, learn about the area. He thought about Larry a lot, especially on mornings like this when the task felt the hardest. Daniel Rourke's lawyers destroyed Larry when he was sixty-three years old. He was a famous investigative journalist, the kind of person who could see a financial fraud in a sea of honest transactions. He also knew that corruption always left a trail if you knew how to read it. But he had made a mistake that Javier had learned never to do again: he had

DANIEL'S POVAt Daniel Rourke's Palisades estate, the morning light came through the windows in the master's bedroom, making everything look warm and golden. Daniel lay next to Elise, aware of how far apart they were even though they were on the same bed. He could tell she was awake because her shoulders were tense, but she looked out the floor-to-ceiling window at the garden and not at him. He stretched out to her and put his hand on her hip. It was a gesture he had done a thousand times before: soft and asking for permission instead of demanding it. A basic request for connection that should have been easy to say yes to."Not this morning," Elise replied quietly, moving away from his touch and getting out of bed with ease. She put on her silk robe and walked to the bathroom without looking at him. Daniel lay there, palm still resting on the soft sheets, feeling the sting of rejection over and over again. This was the third time this week. The sixth time in two weeks. At one point