All Chapters of Wet For Daddy : Chapter 151 - Chapter 155

Chloe’s POV The words were steady. There was no anger in them. Just clarity.“You want me to end it completely,” he said.“Yes.”“And if I do?”“Then maybe,” I answered, “we can begin again.”He stepped back slightly, absorbing my condition.“You don’t trust me,” he said.“I trust what I see,” I replied. “And what I see is that legally, she is still your wife.”He nodded once.“I’ve already spoken to my attorney,” he said quietly. “The divorce is being processed.”I did not react.“I wanted to wait until the sentencing,” he continued. “But if this is what you need…”“It is,” I said.He looked toward the nursery, where Jessica slept peacefully.“She deserves legitimacy,” I added. “She deserves to grow up knowing her mother was never hidden.”His gaze softened at that.“She will,” he said firmly.“And I won’t allow myself to fall into you again until you fix it.”Silence settled between us, heavy but not hostile.He reached for my hand slowly this time. I allowed it.“I accept,” he sai

Chloe’s POV The prison smelled of rust and regret.Cold concrete. Metal bars. Echoing footsteps. It was nothing like the polished boardrooms Jack once strutted through as though he owned the world.I wore a simple fitted dress and dark sunglasses even though the sun barely touched the interior visiting area. Not because I needed to hide.Because I wanted to look untouchable.The officer escorted me to the visitor section. A thick glass partition separated inmates from visitors. A phone rested on each side.When they brought him in, I almost didn’t recognize him.Jack looked thinner. The arrogance in his posture had dulled, replaced by something harsher. His hair was shorter. His jaw shadowed with uneven stubble. The prison uniform hung stiffly on his frame.Orange suited him.He saw me and froze.Then his lips curved slowly.“Chloe,” he muttered as he picked up the phone on his side.I lifted mine.“You clean up nicely,” I said sweetly. “The uniform fits you. Really brings out your…

Chloe’s POV The proposal happened on a normal Tuesday.At least that was what I thought when I walked into the company auditorium for what I assumed was another executive briefing. The hall lights were dimmed slightly, and the employees were already seated. I frowned, wondering why no one had informed me of a scheduled gathering.When I stepped fully inside, the large screen behind the stage flickered to life.Images began to play.Not financial charts.Not company growth statistics.Pictures of Jessica in the incubator.Pictures of me at the office, tired but determined.Clips from board meetings where I stood alone at the head of the table.Photos of Drake in the hospital bed.Then one particular image stayed longer than the rest.Jessica’s tiny hand wrapped around both of ours.My throat tightened.I turned slowly.Drake was standing at the center of the stage.Not in his usual sharp business suit, but in a simple dark ensemble that made him look less like a CEO and more like a ma