All Chapters of His Return, My Ruin: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

When will you learn to take responsibility for your decisions, Isaac? I was honest with you about the affair, and you decided to stay together, just as you decided to propose. I offered you a divorce during the first year of our marriage, and many times after that. Your answer was always "no." So what are you trying to accuse me of now? Making bad decisions and overestimating my abilities? You knew perfectly well who you were marrying. I never tried to make myself look better in your eyes, and that didn't turn you off. What's your complaint? Did you make the decisions and blame me for the consequences? Even the broken nose? You got what you deserved, and you know it; otherwise, you'd be at the police station filing an assault report. It's convenient for you to shift the blame onto me. And you're asking me to put up with this?Isaac listens to my accusatory monologue, but, as always, he doesn't let it affect him. Like my mother, he will defend his comfort until his last breath

"Because of me, you haven't gotten any sleep for a week." I roll out my dress and look at Jaden, who is sitting on the bed. His hair is tousled, and the muscles in his shoulders are beautifully tense. "You don't have to walk me home.""You have no reason to feel guilty, Tasha. I always get up at five in the morning. Although, I must admit, in your absence, I have much more time to sleep."He smiles, so I narrow my eyes ironically."Then maybe you should stop inviting me over?"Jaden shakes his head a few times, stands up, and walks toward me. My eyes slide over his bare stomach and linger on his cock. My mouth goes dry. Not only does my soul and heart come alive around Jaden, but my libido awakens too. I think about sex every time he touches me. Isaac was wrong to call me an ice queen and accuse me of being frigid—he simply never knew how to arouse me.Jayden moves in close, bringing our hips into contact and resting his palm on my buttock. I

After work I drove to my parents’ house in a trance, my knuckles white against the steering wheel. I needed a sanctuary, a place where the air wasn’t thick with the lecherous whispers of the office. But as I stepped onto the porch and heard the sharp, rhythmic clinking of Chinese porcelain followed by a voice that sounded like shards of glass, I realized I had walked into a second execution."It’s a matter of basic decency, Lily," Tyra’s voice drifted through the screen door. "The entire city is looking at those... those recordings. My son is humiliated. He is a grieving man being mocked by his own wife’s carnal indiscretions."I pushed the door open. The foyer felt cold, despite the afternoon sun. I walked toward the drawing room, my heels clicking like a countdown on the hardwood.There they were. My mother, Lily Evans, sat huddled in her armchair, her face pale and her eyes red-rimmed. Opposite her, looking lik

"Where are they, Tyra?" I stepped into the center of the hall, my chest heaving. "I know he came here. I know he’s hiding behind your skirts.""My son is protecting what is left of his dignity," Tyra sneered, reaching the bottom step. She stopped just a few feet from me, her eyes scanning my disheveled hair and the frantic light in my eyes. "And he is protecting Sam from the wreckage you’ve made of your life. Did you really think you could play the Ice Queen forever? Did you think you could freeze out your husband while you warmed the bed of your CEO?""This isn't about my marriage, and you know it," I hissed, my hands curling into fists at my sides. "Isaac followed me. He recorded me. He committed a crime to humiliate me because he couldn't handle the fact that I was leaving him. Where is my son?"Tyra let out a dry, melodic laugh that set my teeth on edge. "A crime? Tasha, the only crime here is the betrayal of a man who gave yo

I didn't drive home. Home was a hollow shell of a life that I no longer recognized. Right now, I needed a war room, not a sanctuary. To fight the state, Isaac, and the shadow of those videos, I couldn't remain a corporate executive. I had to do it as a woman with a scorched-earth policy.I pulled over and dialed a number I hadn’t used in years. "I need Marcus Thorne," I said the moment the assistant picked up. "Tell him it’s Tasha Reed. Tell him the Ice Queen is calling in her marker."Ten minutes later, I stepped into a dimly lit office in a part of the city that didn't care about stock prices. Marcus was a high-stakes lawyer who specialized in cases where "moral standing" was used as a guillotine. He didn't look up as I entered. “I saw the videos, Tasha. Cinematic. But legally? A disaster.""I don't need a critic, Marcus. I need a warrior," I said, my voice dropping into a low, vibrating frequency of pure intent. "CPS gave Isaac seventy-two hours. He used a coordinated surveillance