Lahat ng Kabanata ng We Divorced Now He Wants Me Back (Billionaire Contract Wife): Kabanata 201 - Kabanata 210

Morgan’s footsteps faded down the corridor, sharp and fast, like she was trying to outrun something chasing her from inside the room.The door slammed.Silence followed, thick and heavy.I stayed where I was, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, my palms resting flat against the mattress. The faint smell of disinfectant mixed with something softer. Something familiar.Her scent.I exhaled slowly and leaned back, staring at the white ceiling like it might answer the questions stirring in my head.That woman.That nurse.There was something about her that would not let go of me.It was not just the way she snapped at me, or the fire in her eyes when she thought she was being disrespected. I had seen that kind of defiance before. Women trained to bark back, to protect their space, to draw lines and dare men to cross them.No.This was different.She felt familiar in a way that made my chest tighten.I closed my eyes.And the memory came back uninvited.A year ago.The city.My father

Louis dragged me out of the restaurant. That was the first thing my mind managed to register, even though everything else felt distorted, like I was underwater. The cold night air hit my face, sharp and unforgiving, but it did nothing to clear my head. My feet barely touched the ground as he pulled me along, his grip painfully tight around my arm. “Louis ,” I murmured, my tongue heavy. “Stop. Where are you taking me?” He did not answer. The parking lot lights blurred into streaks of white as he shoved me toward his car. I stumbled, almost falling, but he caught me roughly, not out of concern, but irritation. He pushed me into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. The sound echoed inside my skull. I fumbled with the handle weakly, my fingers clumsy and slow. The door did not open. “Louis ,” I whispered again, fear creeping into my chest. “What are you doing?” He got into the driver’s seat and started the engine aggressively. The car lurched forward, tires sc

8 am ( That Same Morning ) My phone rang, I answered the call. "Boss, she left the hotel," my subordinate reported. "Make sure to keep an eye on her movement" , I said, still looking outside the window. "Boss, what should we do with that scumbag?" My Subordinate asked. "Let him lose an arm or two." I said quietly. Yes, Boss" he said, disconnecting the call. And now standing in here, I was very certain of my feelings. I was gonna make her mine and no one was going to stop it. Not because I felt the control to have her, but because I felt that feeling I hadn't felt in my life. The glass window reflected my image faintly. Calm. Composed. Anyone walking past would think I was just another man standing in a hospital room, waiting for news, waiting for time to pass. They would never guess the storm that had passed through me less than twelve hours ago, or the one still coiled tightly in my chest. Morgan had left the hotel. That knowledge settled in me slowly. She was safe enoug

I was still standing there when the shock finally hit me. Not the quiet kind of shock, the violent one that made my heart jerk painfully in my chest, skipping so hard it felt like it might break through my ribs. My breath caught halfway, stuck somewhere between disbelief and panic. I stared at him, my mind struggling to process what had just happened. Was this guy insane, or did that injury actually affect his head? I turned abruptly, ready to leave before I said something I would regret. Before my feet could move properly, the woman stood up quickly and walked toward me. Her hand closed around mine, warm and firm, leaving me no room to resist. She pulled me back inside as if it was the most natural thing in the world. I froze. Kaiden was watching me closely. His eyes met mine, sharp and warning, silently forcing me to play along. I swallowed whatever protest was forming in my throat and greeted them both, my voice coming out softer than I intended. The woman did not let go of

The moment I stepped into the restroom, everything I had been holding in finally cracked.It was not loud. It was not dramatic. It was quiet and terrifying, the kind of breaking that happens inside, where no one can see it but you feel every piece fall apart. My heels stopped moving, my body stiffened, and suddenly I could not remember how I had walked in here without falling.I leaned against the sink and dragged my hands down my face, from my forehead to my jaw, as if I could physically wipe away the image that refused to leave my mind. My reflection stared back at me, eyes too bright, lips pressed together too tightly.The woman in the mirror looked composed, elegant, dressed perfectly for a gala. But her eyes betrayed her. They were stormy, confused, wounded in a way makeup could never hide.I inhaled deeply, then again, forcing my lungs to cooperate. But my chest still felt tight, like something heavy had been placed right over my heart.It hurt to breathe.The scene replayed its