Lahat ng Kabanata ng THE DIVORCED WIFE RETURNS TO TAKE BACK WHAT’S HERS : Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 59

ELENA I didn’t even hesitate. I stepped out the front door barefoot, hair a mess, face still streaked with dried cemetery dirt. If they wanted a fragile, shaken, grieving Elena, they were in for a wake-up call. Both of them turned when they heard me. Cathy looked like she’d seen a ghost. Damian looked like he’d finally seen the consequence of all his sins at once. Good. “What did you mean about Angela?” I demanded. Just the truth I’d been starved for. Cathy blinked rapidly, her hands lifting in that “baby, wait, let’s talk about this inside” motherly panic. “Elena, sweetheart—” “Don’t.” My voice cracked, but I didn’t let it break. “What. Did you. Mean?” Her eyes darted to Damian like she expected him to magically fix the situation. He didn’t move or blink. He even didn’t say a single damn thing. I snapped. “And what did you mean about an EMPTY GRAVE?” I screamed. Cathy jumped. “Elena—” “Don’t lie to me! Don’t you DARE lie to me right now! What EMPTY GRAVE?! What did you

ELENA The second Damian walked out of the room, shoulders stiff, pride bleeding out of him with every step, the entire atmosphere shifted. It was like someone finally cracked open a window in a suffocating room. Alex waited until the door clicked shut… then he moved. He sat down right where Damian had been sitting, lowering himself with that quiet confidence only men like him possessed men who didn’t need to announce their power. Men who just were powerful. He took my hand. Warm, steady, familiar in a way that almost broke me. “Elena,” he murmured, thumb brushing over my knuckles. My chest tightened, and before I knew it, tears pricked my eyes. I swallowed hard. “Uncle Alex… how—how did you even know I was here?” My voice was still hoarse, but at least it didn’t feel like sandpaper now. He raised an eyebrow. “Did you forget who I am?” That made me laugh. A broken, tiny, but real laugh. “Okay, okay,” I whispered, squeezing his hand. “Point taken. I’m just… really glad you’

DAMIAN My parents’ house had always been too quiet for my liking. Not the peaceful kind of quiet. The kind that crept into your bones and forced you to hear your own thoughts. Tonight, it felt worse. Heavy and judgmental. As if the walls themselves knew I had lied beautifully, expertly, and were waiting for the truth to rot me from the inside out. I sat in my father’s old leather armchair, the one that still smelled faintly of cedar and expensive cologne, with Angela curled up in my lap. She fit there too perfectly. Too small, too warm, too mine. I just need to know the truth of it. Her little legs were tucked against my stomach, one arm wrapped around my ribs like she was afraid I might vanish if she loosened her grip. Her stuffed bunny missing one button eye was squished between us. She smelled like baby shampoo and bedtime stories and everything I didn’t deserve. I stroked her curls absently, my thumb tracing the familiar spiral at the crown of her head. Curly hair, just

DAMIANI knew the moment I saw him that this wasn’t a coincidence. Alex Hart stood in my office like he owned the air; tailored charcoal suit, hands relaxed at his sides, posture calm enough to be insulting. No security announcement, no assistant scrambling behind him. He hadn’t asked to be let in.That alone irritated the hell out of me.I closed the folder in my hands slowly and looked up at him.“So,” I said coldly, “you must enjoy walking into other men’s offices uninvited.”He smiled. Not a friendly smile, and not arrogant either. The kind of smile men wear when they already know the ending.“I was invited,” he said calmly. “Just not by you.”I scoffed. “Let me guess... Elena sent you. Her new bodyguard? Lover? Or are you just the next man lining up to play hero in her tragic little story?”That did it. Something shifted behind his eyes, but not anger. Amusement.“Sit down, Damian.”I laughed sharply. “You don’t give orders in my—”He dropped a thick folder onto my desk. Hard.