All Chapters of I don’t want him back: Divorcing the Billionaire: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Veronica’s POV. Silence detonated between us and in that silence, Four changed. It was subtle, anyone else might have missed it. But I had spent enough time around him now to recognise the shift: the internal door closing, the walls sliding back into place, the distance he wore like armour settling over him again.And I knew instantly what I had done. I had crossed something. My journey has crossed it for me.Something in him hardened, not explosively, not cruelly but with that terrifying, absolute control that meant there would be no arguing with whatever came next.When he spoke, his voice was low and even. “You do not get jealous.”The words landed softly. They still cut. Heat rushed to my face. “I—”He lifted a hand once, not touching me, just stopping the sentence before it formed. “No.” He said quietly.The denial wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. It carried finality in a way that made my throat tighten.I stared at him, pulse loud in my ears. “I didn't say I had a right to be

Veronica’s POV. After Four put me in my place, I remained there. Rigid in my new round throne with the walls of my heart locked tight, the key thrown out so no one could ever get a hold of it.It didn't help that the girl— Mia, was now assigned to me. Assigned to taking care of me until I was back on my feet completely. She visited frequently even when I asked her not to. She wouldn't listen, just like her love for Four, she didn't take no for an answer.“Mr Four asked me to take care of you and that is what I plan to do.”“I understand you like him so much that you do everything you can to please him but I don't like you being here, please stop.” I pleaded, fingers knotted as she yanked strands of my wet hair with a brush, all in the name of brushing.I groaned severely, she showed no mercy, all she said was: “Don't worry, you'll be fine. Just keep your head steady, please, we're almost done.”By her last yank, I saw enough hair to form a ball that fell to the floor. “Is that my hai

Ethan's POV.I arrived at the safehouse in the middle of the night when Veronica should have gone to bed.I parked quietly, the engine noise peaked at its lowest, and the last thing I wanted to do was wake her. I climbed out of the car and into the front door as slowly as I could, my steps measured, my movement gentle.Inside, I found the light bulbs all switched off, devices were turned off, and the house was still quiet.I glared quietly, dropping my bags I carried inside on the dining table, I reached for the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.A few gulps and I reached my limit. I was just about lowering the bottle down when I heard a noise.A tweak somewhere. The light from the fridge reflected my shadow but it was too dark to see beyond the fridge.“Is anyone there? Show yourself.”The presence was not threatening, I caught a soft vanilla scent, flowery and yet calming.“It's me.” A voice I didn't quite recognise, said. “I didn't mean to startle you, I just wanted to have a

Veronica’s POV. The pain didn't fade this time. It tightened deeper, sharper, wrapping from my spine around my abdomen like something inside me was twisting hard and deliberate. My breath hitched and I froze on the bed, fingers dragging into the blanket.Gosh! I was in pain. ‘No. No, please no.” Not now. Not like this.I swallowed hard, forcing myself to breathe slowly through my nose. I’d had contractions before. False once, comes with pregnancy, those irregular harmless cramps. This could still be that.It had to be but it wasn't, the pressure eased slightly, leaving a dull ache behind.I lay perfectly still, staring at the wall, jaw tight. I was still angry, still hurt. Still not speaking to him. Good.Let that be the last thing between us. Another contraction slammed through me. Stronger. My body locked. Air punched out of my lungs in a sharp gasp. “Ah–”My hand flew to my stomach. The muscles seized hard under my palm, tightening into something unmistakable now. This wasn't any

Veronica's POV.The room didn't go quiet after the birth. It should have. Oh my head, I always imagined silence afterwards. Peace and soft light, maybe years and relief and someone whispering congratulations like the world had gentled around me.Instead, the room stayed loud. I heard machines hum, metal trays clinked and then I saw globes snap. Nurses moved briskly around the bed, efficient and focused, as if what had just happened to me was routine instead of something that had split me open and rearranged my bones and soul.I laid there shaking. My son rested against my chest, bundled now, his tiny face scrunched in sleep. His weight was almost nothing, yet it anchored me more than gravity ever had.My baby. My boy. I kept staring at him because everytime I blinked I was afraid he'd disappear and I'd wake up back in the nightmare of pregnancy— the poison, the sickness, the fear and Jason's shadow hanging over every day.Jason.The name alone made something cold move through me. No.