All Chapters of Dear Ex-husband, I'm back for revenge : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Damien POVI was seated quietly when one of the officers informed me that someone was here to see me.At first, I assumed it was Charles and Julian again.Those two had practically turned this place into their second home over the past five days. Charles came mostly to complain and insult the prison environment while Julian came to insult Charles for complaining. Somehow, they both still ended up staying for hours.But this time felt different.The officer led me out, and the moment my eyes landed on her, my steps slowed slightly.Evelyn.For a second, I genuinely thought my mind was playing tricks on me because the last person I expected to walk in here willingly was her.I sat down slowly across from her, studying her face carefully.She looked exhausted, like sleep had abandoned her completely.But she said nothing.She just stared at me.And honestl

Evelyn POVI left Damien there and drove straight to Sophia’s house, but somehow, my heart felt lighter.It felt strange.After everything that happened these past five years, after all the anger I carried around like it was part of me, after all the revenge, the hatred, the sleepless nights, the tears I buried inside myself, I suddenly felt… free.Enough to realize that maybe love was never truly gone between us. It was just buried under too many misunderstandings, too many assumptions, too much silence.The drive there felt different. My hands rested lightly on the steering wheel while Damien’s words kept replaying inside my head over and over again.“I searched everywhere for you.”“I loved you.”“I designed my study room like yours.”“I could accept anything as long as it was from you."How did we let things get this ruined?How did two people who loved each o

Evelyn POVBy the time I arrived at Aveillie & Co., the entire company already felt like it was standing on the edge of collapse.The atmosphere inside the building was suffocating. Employees moved too quickly, whispered too quietly, stared too long before pretending not to. Phones rang nonstop across different departments, printers kept running endlessly, and somewhere down the hallway, I heard two executives arguing under their breath before going silent the second they noticed me approaching.My heels echoed against the marble floors as I walked toward the executive wing, trying to ignore the pressure slowly building in my chest.“Good morning, ma’am,” one of the receptionists greeted nervously.I gave a short nod and kept walking.“Tami,” I called immediately the second I reached my office floor.My assistant practically hurried toward me with files pressed tightly against her chest. Even she looked sha

Allen POV The safe house was dark except for the single lamp on the side table. I sat on the worn leather couch, a half-empty bottle of whiskey dangling from my fingers. The liquid burned pleasantly down my throat, but it did nothing to calm the storm raging inside me. My phone buzzed again on the table. Another message. Another loss. I snatched it up, scanned the words, and hurled it across the room with a roar. It smashed against the wall and clattered to the floor. “Damien is supposed to be in prison!” I shouted at the empty room. “In fucking prison! How the hell is he still doing this to me?” I stood up abruptly, pacing like a caged animal. My hands ran through my hair, tugging hard. When I caught my reflection in the large mirror across the room, I barely recognized the man staring back. Eyes wild. Hair disheveled. Face gaunt from stress and sleepless nights. I looked down at my hands. They were sha

Allen POVThe safe house felt suffocating. The curtains were drawn tightly, the lights dim, the air thick with cigarette smoke and tension. Somewhere in the corner, water dripped steadily from a leaking pipe, the sound slow and irritating, like a countdown to something ugly.I sat on the couch with the tablet resting in my hand, my eyes locked on the live press conference playing across the screen.And there he was.Damien Blackthorne.Standing confidently behind the podium like prison had done nothing except sharpen him.The cameras loved him, the reporters practically worshipped him. Even now, even after everything.Micah stood a few feet away from me near the window, arms folded tightly across her chest as she watched the screen nervously. She kept glancing at me every few seconds like she was waiting for me to explode.Honestly? She was right to worry.A reporter suddenly asked, “M