Todos os capítulos de THE DIVORCED WIFE RETURNS TO TAKE BACK WHAT’S HERS : Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

ELENAThe bow screeched against the violin strings, a sound so fractured it made me wince. No matter how much I tried, the melody refused to flow. My fingers trembled slightly, not from lack of skill but from the weight pressing on my chest. Tomorrow I would be back in New York. Three years gone, and yet the very thought of that city still clawed at the inside of my ribs like a beast that refused to die.I tried again, forcing the bow across the strings, but the sound came out jagged discordant, almost angry. And then, snap! I pressed my lips together, staring at the violin probably trying to tell me: maybe going back isn’t such a wise decision, Elena. “Elena, don’t forget to bring this.”The deep, steady voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I turned, and there he was uncle Alex, standing in the doorway with an envelope in his hand.“Uncle Alex!” My face broke into a smile. I stood, setting the violin gently on its stand, and crossed the room. I knew from the young age I was ad

DAMIANThe envelope sat on my desk. Golden embossing, wax seal. The kind of invitation you couldn’t mistake for anything but prestige. The Golden Star Foundation requests the honour of your presence…I almost laughed. Presence. That was a word I hadn’t given anyone in three years. Not the board, not the press, not the vultures who fed on whispers about the Blackwood divorce. I’d hidden myself behind glass offices and late-night conference calls, keeping the world at arm’s length.But this banquet is different. How could I stay locked up in my gilded cage, pretending my absence didn’t matter, when everything about this banquet was for the children. For the ones who had been sick, fragile, unwanted. For the ones like Angela; ones that weren’t meant to survive. Attending meant exposure. I picked up the invitation again and slipped it into my suit jacket pocket before I could change my mind. And for the first time in three years, I felt a strange flicker of anticipation, sharp and un

DAMIAN “What?!” Isabelle’s shrill voice cut through the stunned silence, joined by Clara’s. Elena.I watched as she leaned towards her friend Paulina, quietly entrusting her to the staff before gliding towards the stage with that unhurried grace that made my chest burn. The spotlight kissed her shoulders, and the world seemed to bend towards her, like she commanded it without even trying.And then Paul appeared. Blond, polished, and far too at ease. He trotted to her side as though he had every right. My hands curled into fists beneath the table. He offered her his hand, steadying her as she mounted the steps, and when his palm brushed the bare skin of her back, something inside me snapped.I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached.She didn’t flinch. She didn’t push him away. Instead, she rewarded him with a hug.Elena’s eyes swept the audience, pausing briefly on her friend before she lifted her chin, gathering herself. “I don’t think I need to introduce myself…” Her voice

DAMIANElena’s words had barely left her lips when she shifted to the side, her gown catching the soft light as she moved gracefully, revealing the little girl behind herShe couldn’t have been more than four or five, dressed in a pale, cloud-soft dress that looked as though it belonged to a fairy-tale. Her hair fell in loose, dark curls down her back, framing a heart-shaped face. She bit her lower lip so tightly it trembled, her wide brown eyes brimming with tears as she peeked out from behind Elena’s skirt.Something in my chest gave way. That tiny face; those round, trembling lips reminded me so much of Angela at home that I forgot to breathe for a second. Sabrina’s scoff broke the spell.“Really? All this fuss over a glass of juice? The great founder of the Golden Star Foundation is going to lose her temper over a drink?” Her voice dripped with mockery.Elena didn’t even blink. She stepped instinctively in front of the child

ELENA“Are you kidding me?” The words scraped out of my throat, barely more than a whisper.Paul’s face told me everything before he even spoke. No flicker of humour, no mercy. He just shook his head, solemn and heavy, and held his phone out to me.My fingers felt stiff as I took it.The headline on the screen blurred for a second before it sharpened in my vision:“Fire breaks out at Westgate Street, No. 8482, New York.”My chest tightened. I tapped the video.The screen filled with flames devouring a house I knew as well as the lines of my own palm. The white walls were collapsing into ash. That was home. My mother’s home.For a heartbeat, my mind went blank, wiped clean by shock. Then, all at once, panic came crashing in, cold and suffocating. I couldn’t breathe.I shoved the phone back into Paul’s hand and moved. I headed straight for the parking lot, ignoring his voice calling my name low at first, then more urgent.“Elena, wait—” I didn’t wait, regardless of his warning