บททั้งหมดของ Divorced by the Billionaire Who still owns me : บทที่ 91 - บทที่ 100

Adrian’s Pov By noon, half the board was already waiting. I stood in the private elevator of Blackwood Global Headquarters, watching the numbers climb one floor at a time. Forty-three. Forty-four. Forty-five. The higher the elevator rose, the more familiar the feeling became. For years, these walls had felt like home. The polished glass and the quiet authority Everything here operated according to rules I understood... powers, influence Simple. People liked to pretend corporations were complicated. They weren’t. Fear drove most decisions. Greed drove the rest. The elevator doors opened. My executive assistant was already waiting. Her expression told me everything before she spoke. “It started early.” Of course it had. I adjusted my cufflinks calmly. “Who pushed it?” “Victor.” The answer didn’t surprise me. Not anymore. Victor had spent months positioning himself carefully. Patiently. Waiting for weakness. Now he thought he had found it. We walked toward

Adrian’s POV The moment I saw the name on the screen, I knew this wasn’t another board member. It was Ethan. He never called unless something had already gone wrong. For a second, I stared at the phone without answering. A strange feeling settled in my chest. Not fear…….It felt closer to anticipation. Like standing on a shoreline and watching a wave rise in the distance, knowing it was heading directly toward you. I answered. “What happened?” There was no greeting, no small talk. Just silence for half a second. Then Ethan spoke. “They found the documents.” Every muscle in my body went still. Across the room, Elara immediately noticed. I saw it in the way her expression changed. The way her attention sharpened, and she stopped breathing for a moment. She knew something was wrong. Ethan continued. “The internal communications.” My grip tightened around the phone. The room suddenly felt smaller. “What communications?” More silence. And somehow that silence told me every

Adrian’s POV I knew that look. The moment Elara said she was done hiding, I recognized it immediately. Most people would have mistaken it for calm. They would have seen the steady expression, the controlled voice, the lack of visible emotion, and assumed she was handling everything well. They would have been wrong. I knew her too well for that. Elara was never at her most dangerous when she was angry. She was dangerous when she was certain. And right now, she looked certain. For years, I had watched her swallow disappointment. I had watched her walk away from arguments simply because she was tired of fighting. I had watched her choose peace even when she deserved justice. The woman standing in front of me now was different. She was now stronger, harder, and so cold. There was a difference. Blue looked between us, clearly sensing the shift. “What does that mean?” she asked. Elara’s attention immediately softened when she looked at our daughter. It always did. “It means I’m no

Elara’s POV After Adrian stopped talking, the room fell silent not the kind that settles naturally between people who understand each other. This silence felt heavy. Like something had been waiting years to be spoken aloud. Phones continued buzzing; news stations continued dissecting our lives. But inside the house, none of that mattered. For the first time since Adrian walked back into my life, there was nowhere left for either of us to hide. He stood near the kitchen table, looking older than I had ever seen him not physically, but emotionally. The weight of everything was finally showing. Part of me thought I should feel satisfied. For years, I imagined what it would be like if Adrian finally understood the damage he caused. I thought it would feel like justice…. like it would heal something inside me.Instead, I felt tired…just tired. Because understanding came too late to change what happened.And some losses remained losses no matter how sorry someone became. I looked toward

Adrian’s POV The silence inside the ballroom felt almost unnatural. Today was supposed to be no different. All I had to do was read it. Ten minutes or maybe less. The company would survive; headlines would move on. I knew exactly how the story would end. Because I had written versions of it my entire life. My fingers tightened around the edge of the podium. And suddenly I realized that was the problem. I had spent years controlling outcomes. I looked out across the crowd again. The room remained perfectly still, waiting, expecting……Trusting me to protect the empire. This actually made me laugh. They thought this summit was about saving a company. For me, it was about finally admitting what I had destroyed. I leaned slightly toward the microphone. “My team prepared a statement for today.” A few people nodded…Good. That was expected. I glanced down at the folded paper. Then looked back up. “I won’t be reading it.” The reaction was immediate. Just a subtle shift that rolled thr