All Chapters of Ex-husband Wanted an Open Marriage With My Sister: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

2 a.m. When Jenny came out of the bathroom, her hair was still wet. Water droplets trickled down from her hair to her collarbone, then down her chest into the neckline of her silk blouse. She put on her usual clothes again: a fog-blue suit and black high heels. The buttons of her blouse were fastened all the way up, with the collar fitting tightly against her throat.Caspian was leaning against the window, holding the aluminum tube of burn ointment in his hand. He was already dressed in his coat, with the collar of his black trench coat raised to cover his chin. He turned the car keys in his other hand, causing a metallic “ding” sound.“He’s in the executive apartment at the Rich Group,” said Caspian. “It’s on East 57th Street, not the penthouse you went to earlier. Alexander had him moved there this afternoon.”Jenny’s fingers paused for a second on the suit buttons. Her fingertips touched the edges of the metal buttons. The buttons were cool to the touch, with the coldness spreading

Rita’s voice drifted out from behind Jenny. Her heels clicked down the corridor in a steady, unvarying rhythm: tap, tap, tap. She stepped up beside Jenny, cradling a thick manila folder in her arms; the plastic sleeve squeaked softly under the pressure of her elbow.“Mr. Reach,” Rita said, her tone the cold, polished calm honed by countless courtroom appearances, “if you intend to hash out case details in the hallway, I suggest you have your counsel present. Every word you speak right now may be entered into evidence.”Alexander’s gaze drifted from Jenny to Rita, then snapped back to Jenny. Jenny watched his lips clamp shut. The strain of his clenched teeth sent a sharp click echoing through his temporomandibular joint—a sound louder inside his own ears than it was in the corridor, like someone rapping on a bolted door.Ms. Davies rounded the far end of the hallway. Her heels tapped closer and closer, the same tap-tap-tap cadence, yet each stride shortened by two millimeters: she was

After driving for twenty minutes, Jenny had no idea where she was going.She walked south along Broadway, past 42nd Street, past the remnants of Times Square. In the afternoon, without the neon lights, Times Square was nothing more than a collection of dull billboards and crowded pedestrians. Her car was stuck between two buses. The exhaust from the vehicle in front rushed towards her through the slightly open window, causing her to cough twice.She turned on 23rd Street. Left. She wasn’t familiar with this street. On both sides were six-story old apartment buildings. On the ground floors, there were laundries, shoe repair shops, and a small second-hand bookstore. The sycamore trees on the sidewalk had lost all their leaves. Their bare branches resembled rows of skeletons with arms raised against the gray sky.She parked the car in a spot in front of a laundry shop. Once the engine was turned off, the cabin became completely silent, with only the hum of the cooling fan remaining. Her

Two weeks later, the Hynes case ended in victory. Alexander’s temporary custody order expired, and the court ruled that Jenny be granted joint legal custody of Daniel on an alternating weekend schedule. The final hearing for the custody battle was scheduled three months out.Jenny did not show up to pick Daniel up. She asked Rita to coordinate the handover, and a social worker oversaw the first supervised transition at a designated neutral location. Rita asked if she wanted to come along, but Jenny declined. Rita did not press the matter.Monday MorningConference Room, Sunlit LegalLucas set a new case file down in front of Jenny. Paper whispered against the oak desktop. The binder bore a white cover emblazoned with a single line of text: Knight Industries v. Meridian Pharmaceuticals — Patent Infringement & Breach of Contract.Jenny’s fingertips brushed the binder cover. The paper felt rough beneath her skin, raised printing ink catching against her fingerprints. She flipped open to

The package arrived at Sunlit Legal on Thursday morning.Lucas brought it in. A manila envelope, no return address, postmarked Boston. His name was typed on a label — not handwritten — and the label was printed on a commercial printer, the kind you find in any office supply store. Jenny's name was on the front. Just her name. No title, no firm, no "Esq.""Courier dropped it at the front desk." Lucas set it on her desk. The envelope landed with a soft *thump* — something inside had weight. "No signature required. The receptionist said the courier was a kid, maybe college-age, on a bike."Jenny picked up the envelope. It was heavier than paper alone. Her thumb broke the seal — the adhesive gave way with a dry *crack* — and she tipped the contents onto her desk.A photograph. A folded document. A USB drive, matte black, no label.The photograph landed face-up. Jenny's fingers stilled on the desk.A woman. Young — mid-twenties, maybe younger. Dark hair, cut short at the jaw. She was stand