All Chapters of After The Divorce: He Wanted Me Back: Chapter 201 - Chapter 207

Isabella The first thing I felt was the heaviness in my chest, like a stack of bricks was pressing down on my lungs. Then, the smell—even through the antiseptic tang of the hospital, the ghostly scent of acrid smoke seemed to cling to the back of my throat.I didn't open my eyes immediately. I just listened.The room was filled with the rhythmic, mechanical beep of a monitor, but beneath it, there was a low rumble of voices. It was a familiar baritone, hushed but vibrating with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat."...I don't care about the press outside, Leo. I want a 24-hour detail on this floor. No one—and I mean no one—gets past that door without my personal clearance. If Lucas so much as breathes in this direction, I want his head.""Understood, Sir. The police have the perimeter, and Marcus is already tracking the guy from the house. We’ll find him."Gabriel.I tried to swallow, but my throat was parched. I forced my eyelids open, the harsh fluorescent lights of the roo

Isabella The morning sun streaming through the hospital windows felt unusually bright, as if the world itself was scrubbing away the soot and shadows of the night before. I adjusted my coat to hide the bandages on my arms, catching Gabriel’s reflection in the mirror. He was standing by the door with my discharge papers in hand, his expression still clouded with hesitation."Isa, we can still postpone this. You’ve only just been cleared to leave. We could go straight to a hotel so you can sleep," he suggested, his voice a mix of tenderness and worry.I turned to him, placing my hands on his cheeks to still his racing mind. "Gab, I won’t be able to rest until the final chapter of this is written. I need this closure as much as you do."He took a deep breath and nodded, knowing my stubbornness was a match for his own. "Fine. But we’re stopping by Elias’s room first."When we reached Elias’s floor, we were greeted by a familiar scene. Mia, who had also just been discharged, was perched o

Isabella The morning sun hit the Thorne estate with a brilliance that seemed almost intentional, as if even the weather had been brokered into submission. Outside the massive wrought-iron gates, the air hummed with the electric energy of a city in a frenzy. A sea of reporters, paparazzi, and onlookers lined the streets, their cameras poised to capture a glimpse of the "Wedding of the Century." The headlines were already swirling: The Rebirth of Thorne: A Legacy of Love and Power.Inside, the gardens had been transformed into a cathedral of glass, white peonies, and gold leaf. This wasn't just a wedding; it was a declaration. It was Gabriel Thorne showing the world that his house was no longer made of secrets and shadows, but of light and unyielding strength.I stood before the full-length mirror in the bridal suite, the weight of the silk and lace draped over me like a suit of armor—but a beautiful one. This was different from our first wedding. Back then, I felt like a girl being pu