All Chapters of The Billionaire's Greatest Loss: Ex-Wife Please Come Back : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

THE PHOENIX RISES(Serena’s POV)The cold night air slapped my face as I stepped out of the Blackwood Estate. My breath came out in sharp puffs of white, matching the furious rhythm of my heartbeat. I did it!I actually did it!The stained ivory gown clung to my legs as I walked, the fabric stiffening from the dried wine but I didn't care. For the first time in three years, I felt alive.A black town car pulled up in front of me right on time. The window rolled down, revealing Elena's sharp grin. “Get in, badass,” she said. I slid into the leather seat, my body trembling, not from the cold, but from the adrenaline. The moment the door closed, I collapsed against the headrest, my hands shaking as I pressed them to my suddenly queasy stomach. Elena took one look at me and burst out laughing. “Holy shit. You actually did it.” She shoved a tumbler of whiskey into my hands. “Drink. You look like you're about to pass out from badass overload.”The sharp scent of alcohol hit my nose

THE SAFE(Damien's POV)Midnight covered the townhouse in a dark, eerie shadow. The air smelled like dust and rot. I walked slowly through the empty house. The floor creaked under my feet. Cobwebs hung everywhere, sticking to my face as I passed. I wiped them away, my fingers covered in dust. Disgusting!The townhouse was old and abandoned, but you could still see it was once expensive. The floors were marble, now dirty and scratched. The walls had fancy moldings, though the paint was peeling. Everything was falling apart, but you could tell it used to house wealth.I reached the master bedroom. The big closet was made of cedar wood. I ran my fingers along the panels until I felt a tiny crack in the wood. Just like Victoria’s team had said. I pressed hard on the hidden spot and there was a quiet click. Then, the panel slid open without a sound. There, a biometric safe glinted in the moonlight. State-of-the-art. The kind we used in our Zurich vaults. My cufflinks caught the lig

THE WILL(Serena's POV)The private jet's cabin hummed softly as we soared above the Atlantic. The leather seats smelled of expensive cologne and fear-induced sweat. I stared at the will document on my tablet, the words swimming before my exhausted eyes like fish in murky water."To Serena Vaughn Blackwood, my granddaughter-in-law, who showed more steel in three years than my blood relatives have in thirty..."My hands shook as I read it again. And again. The baby kicked restlessly against my ribs, as if sensing my turmoil. I pressed a palm to my stomach, whispering softly, "Easy, little one. Mommy's just having a moment."Elena paced the narrow aisle, her red Louboutin heels clicking against the marble floor like a metronome counting down to disaster. Her usually perfect hair was disheveled, dark strands escaping her chignon to frame her flushed face. "This has to be fake. Eleanor would never...""Never what?" I looked up, my voice hoarse from exhaustion and disbelief. "Never recogni

THE ARREST(Damien’s POV)The handcuffs bit into my wrists like metal teeth. Cold and sharp. They left red marks on my skin. I sat in the back of the police car, watching my family's empire crumble through bulletproof glass. News vans lined the estate's circular driveway like hungry wolves. Camera flashes lit up the night like fireworks. Every flash captured another piece of our humiliation. "Blackwood heir arrested!" I could already see the headlines. "Dynasty falls!"Eleanor sat beside me, her silver hair still perfect despite everything. Even in handcuffs, she looked like a queen about to be executed. Her black silk dress didn't have a single wrinkle. Her spine was straight as steel. "This is temporary," she said quietly. Her voice was steady as stone. I wanted to believe her. But the way the officers had read our rights... The way they'd searched our house like they owned it... This wasn't temporary. This was the end of everything. "Grandmother..." I started. "Don't."

THE REFUSAL(Serena's POV)The lawyer's office smelled like leather and old money. The kind of scent that clung to everything in Manhattan's most expensive legal firms. Mahogany panels lined the walls. Crystal decanters filled with amber liquid sat on antique side tables. Oil paintings of long-dead judges stared down from their gilded frames.I sat across from William Hartwell, Eleanor's personal attorney for thirty years. His silver hair was perfectly styled, swept back from his forehead in waves that probably cost more to maintain. His charcoal suit was tailored to perfection, every line sharp enough to cut glass. Behind him, law books lined the walls like soldiers in formation, their leather spines bearing the names of cases that had shaped the city's power structure.The baby kicked hard against my ribs as I shifted in the plush leather chair. Twenty-six weeks now. Strong and restless, like it could sense the weight of the decision hanging in the air. I pressed my hand to my stoma