All Chapters of Dating My Ex Husband's Billionaire Boss: His Regret: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Aria“Ethan, could you help me for a second?”Tamara’s voice carried lightly from inside the villa.We had just finished clearing the lunch table on the terrace. Ethan was stacking the empty plates while I gathered the glasses. The late afternoon light had softened into a warm glow, and the air felt calmer than it had earlier.Ethan glanced toward the open sliding door.“Sure,” he called back. “What do you need?”“I think I cut my hand on something in the kitchen.”There was a small laugh in her voice, almost embarrassed.“Probably one of your fancy knives.”Ethan wiped his hands on a towel and walked toward the door. “Let me see.”I followed a moment later, carrying the glasses toward the sink.The villa was quiet inside, the cool marble floors a relief after the warmth of the terrace. As I stepped into the living area, I saw Tamara standing near the kitchen counter.Her back was partially turned to me.Ethan moved toward her quickly.“What happened?” he asked.“I’m not sure,” she sa

Aria“I did not hurt her.”The words left my mouth calmly, even though my chest felt tight with anger and disbelief.For a moment, no one spoke.The living room seemed smaller than before, the air heavy with tension. Outside, the last streaks of sunset had faded into deep blue, and the soft lights of the island flickered along the cliffs.Ethan ran a hand slowly through his hair.“I hear you,” he said finally.But the way he said it made my stomach twist.Because it sounded like someone trying to calm an argument, not someone who actually believed me.Tamara shifted slightly on the couch. Her bandaged wrist rested carefully on a pillow Ethan had placed under it earlier.“I really don’t want to cause problems between you two,” she said softly.Her voice was almost apologetic.Almost.I forced myself not to react.Instead, I crossed my arms loosely and leaned against the back of a chair.“No one is blaming you,” Ethan told her gently.That made something inside my chest snap.“No one?”

Tamara“You’re late.”Brandon’s voice carried easily across the dimly lit terrace of the small seaside bar.I slid into the chair across from him and removed my sunglasses, even though the night had already settled over Santorini. The place was quiet, tucked away along a narrow street that tourists rarely noticed. Soft music drifted through the warm air, and the sea shimmered darkly beyond the railing.“I had to wait until they were asleep,” I said calmly.Brandon studied me for a moment.His eyes moved to the white bandage wrapped around my wrist.A slow smile spread across his face.“Well,” he said, lifting his glass, “I see you committed to the role.”I glanced down at the bandage and let out a quiet laugh.“It worked, didn’t it?”He leaned back in his chair, clearly pleased.“So tell me,” he said. “How bad is the damage?”I took the glass of wine the waiter had just placed in front of me and swirled it slowly.“Oh, it’s only the beginning,” I replied.Brandon raised an eyebrow.“M

AriaThe villa had fallen into a deep, almost unnatural quiet.Outside, the Aegean Sea whispered against the cliffs, the soft rhythm of waves brushing the shore like a lullaby meant to soothe restless minds. The moon hung high over Santorini, spilling pale silver light through the large windows of our bedroom.But sleep refused to come to me.I lay on my side, staring at the faint glow of the curtains moving gently with the night breeze. Ethan lay beside me, his breathing slow and steady, one arm draped loosely across my waist.A few hours ago, that simple gesture would have made me feel safe.Now it only made my chest feel tight.I shifted slightly, careful not to wake him.The events of the evening kept replaying in my mind. Tamara’s injured wrist. Ethan rushing her to the hospital. The tension that had settled between us afterward.And the letter.My heart skipped as my gaze flickered toward the nightstand.The letter was hidden beneath my clothes in the drawer. I had barely looked

The kitchen light was still on, a single warm bulb above the island that turned the granite gold and threw long shadows across the tiles.It was past two in the morning. Dishes from dinner sat untouched in the sink. A half-empty bottle of red stood beside two neglected glasses. Neither of them had bothered to turn anything off when they came through the door.Ethan kicked it shut behind them.Aria was already up on the counter before she could think, thighs parting around his hips as he stepped between them. Her skirt was bunched at her waist, panties dragged to one side and left there—crooked, damp, irrelevant. His belt buckle clinked once against the edge of the granite as he freed himself, not bothering to shove his jeans down more than necessary.No condom.They’d stopped pretending about that weeks ago.He didn’t ease in.One hard, deliberate thrust and he was buried to the hilt, the sudden stretch ripping a broken sound out of her throat. Her palms slapped flat against the col