All Chapters of Divorced and Remarried: Desired by Two Billionaires : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

92~Eva’s POVDylan’s mother did not hesitate. She shifted in her seat, straightening her back, her expression sharpening as though she had been waiting for this opening all along.“My son went through hell,” she said, her voice firm and steady. “He gave his name, his heart, his future to that marriage, and what did he receive in return?” She let out a slow breath and shook her head. “Disappointment. Shame. A woman who could not even give him a child, yet still dared to betray him.”The word defective hung in the air when she said it, heavy and deliberate.I lowered my gaze, playing my part, my fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the table as though the words were difficult for me to hear. Inside, my pulse beat faster, but I kept my face calm. Composed. The kind of calm people trust.“She drained him,” Dylan’s mother continued, her tone almost mournful now. “Emotionally and mentally. My son deserved peace, not constant embarrassment.”The reporter paused for a brief second,

94~Velma’s POVI had been lying there, half on my side, half on my back, just watching him sleep.Theron slept like he trusted the world. Like nothing bad could reach him when his eyes were closed. His breathing was slow and even, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that somehow made the room feel calmer. The lamp beside the bed cast a soft glow over his face, catching the line of his jaw, the faint crease between his brows that never fully left, even in sleep.I smiled to myself.Earlier, he had insisted on watching a movie together, even though he had been the first to start yawning. He had claimed he was not tired, that he could stay awake, that I should stop teasing him. And then, not even twenty minutes in, his head had tilted slightly, his eyes fluttered, and he was gone.I had laughed quietly then, careful not to wake him.“You are unbelievable,” I had whispered, reaching out to brush my fingers lightly over his hair. “Tomorrow, I will remind you that you owe me a

96~Velma’s POVTheron watched me for a moment before he spoke. His face was calm, but his eyes were sharp, the way they always were when he was thinking ten steps ahead.“What did Dylan say he would do about it?” he asked.I let out a slow breath. “He said he would handle it. I told him it was his wife who made the mess, so he should be the one to clean it up.”Theron nodded once, thoughtful. “And?”“I gave him twenty-four hours,” I said. “To take everything down. Every article. Every lie.”His jaw tightened slightly, just for a second. “That is fair.”He shifted closer. “Do you want me to call my lawyer?”I shook my head immediately. “No. Not yet. I can clean this up myself.”He studied my face, like he was weighing my words against the tension still sitting in my shoulders.“You should not have to do this alone,” he said quietly.“I know,” I replied. “But I need to do this one myself.”He reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from my face. “Do not let it get to you tonight,

98~Velma’s POVHis face crumpled when I said it, as if the words had finally reached somewhere soft.“I love you,” he said again, quieter this time, almost pleading.I shook my head slowly. I could feel the weight of his gaze, heavy and desperate, pressing into my back.“No,” I snapped. “You love control.”The word hung between us. It explained everything. His money. His apologies. His sudden knees on polished floors. None of it was love. It was the fear of losing access to me.I stepped back, creating space because I needed air, needed distance, needed to remember who I was before he ever thought he owned me.“You do not get to kneel in front of me and call it remorse,” I said, my voice steady even though my chest burned.He reached for my hand, his fingers brushing the air where I had been standing. I pulled away immediately, my skin crawling at the attempt.“You have twelve hours,” I said sharply. “Twelve hours to bring down every report tied to my name.”He looked up at me then,

100~Velma’s POVShe looked at me then. And for the briefest moment, the anger faltered.I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and turned toward the door again.“This conversation isn’t mine to finish,” I said. “Whatever this is between you two, keep it there.”I reached for the handle.Behind me, her voice followed, smaller now but still sharp. “You don’t just walk away.”I paused, my hand resting on the door.“I do,” I said softly. “That’s how I survived.”Then I opened the door and left, not looking back, letting their unfinished mess close behind me.The drive home felt longer than it should have.Not because of traffic. The road was clear. The city lights slid past my windows in a quiet blur, red and gold and white. It was my mind that was crowded. Every streetlight seemed to pull another thought loose. Eva’s voice. Dylan’s silence. The way my own heart had stayed strangely steady through it all, as if it had already made its decision before I caught up.I rolled the window down a lit