All Chapters of Chasing His Ex-Wife Back: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The cold night air wrapped around me as I stepped out of the mansion, my chest heaving with every breath. Tears streamed freely down my face, blurring the world into a haze of muted lights and shadows. Damion’s voice cut through the air behind me, sharp and desperate. “Isabelle, wait!” he shouted, his footsteps echoing as he followed me. “Don’t just walk away!” I spun around, my vision clouded with anger and heartbreak. “Walk away? What else is there to do, Damion? You’ve taken everything from me. My trust, my money, my dignity! What more do you want?” He stopped in his tracks, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “I didn’t mean for it to be like this.” “Didn’t mean for it to be like this?” I laughed bitterly, my voice cracking. “You planned this! You and Kaia and that vile man—Lionel! You schemed and lied and used me. And now you’re acting like the victim?” His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of regret in his eyes. But then his voice har

The morning of my mother’s memorial came with a heavy weight pressing against my chest. I stared at the mirror in my bedroom, my reflection a ghost of the person I used to be. My black dress hung loosely on my frame, a reminder of the sleepless nights and endless tears. Today wasn’t just about saying goodbye to my mother—it felt like saying goodbye to everything I’d once believed in. My phone buzzed on the dresser, and I glanced at it, hoping against hope to see Damion’s name. Nothing. Just a slew of messages from distant relatives and acquaintances offering their condolences. My heart sank further. I took a deep breath, brushing my fingers over the delicate pendant that hung around my neck—the one my mother had given me on my eighteenth birthday. “Mom,” I whispered, my voice trembling, “I hope I can make you proud today.” The small chapel was filled with the soft hum of voices as guests arrived. I stood at the entrance, greeting them with a forced smile, the ache in my chest

The air between Damion and me was suffocating, thick with unspoken words and the weight of a past that neither of us seemed to escape. My fingers curled into fists at my sides as I tried to steady my breath. The urge to run from him, to erase his presence from my life once again, consumed me. I turned on my heel, determined to walk away, but just as I took a step, a small voice echoed through the grand room. “Mommy!” My heart dropped into my stomach as I froze. Turning slowly, I watched as my son, Nathan, darted out from behind one of the decorative pillars. His little face lit up when he spotted me, his dark curls bouncing as he ran toward me with open arms. “Nathan?” I whispered, shocked. “What are you doing here?” He wrapped his tiny arms around my legs, looking up at me with his wide, innocent eyes. “I missed you, Mommy!” The world around me seemed to blur as I bent down to his level, smoothing his curls. “I told you to stay with Aunt Rita, didn’t I? How did you even

Isabelle’s POV The next morning was calm, the kind of calm that unsettled me because I knew it couldn’t last. My office was quiet except for the rhythmic clicking of my keyboard as I worked through the last of my emails. The sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the modern, sleek design of the space I’d built for myself. This was my sanctuary—my proof that I’d overcome everything the world had thrown at me. But today, I couldn’t shake the strange feeling of tension brewing just below the surface. My assistant knocked lightly on the door and peeked in. “Miss Everett, your 11 o’clock is here, but they’re running a little late.” I glanced up and nodded. “That’s fine, Stephanie. Just let me know when they arrive.” She hesitated for a moment, as if wanting to say more, but eventually left. I leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes for a brief moment of peace. That’s when the door slammed open. I jolted upright, my heart racing as Kaia Jenkins stor

Isabelle’s POV The morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows of my office as I sat at my desk, scrolling through the latest reports. Stephanie, my assistant, stood nearby, clipboard in hand and an expression of quiet efficiency that I’d come to rely on. “Miss Everett,” she began, her tone professional, “we’ve finalized the contracts for the Brighton project, but there’s a new opportunity that might interest you.” I glanced up, intrigued. “Go on.” She adjusted her glasses, glancing at her notes. “A partnership proposal from Ryder Industries. They’ve been expanding into renewable energy solutions and need a logistics partner to handle international supply chains. Their CEO personally recommended us.” The mention of Ryder Industries made my heart skip a beat. Damion. His name lingered in the air like a ghost. I cleared my throat, trying to mask my unease. “And you think this is worth pursuing?” Stephanie nodded. “Their track record in innovation is solid, and wit