Alle Kapitel von Divorced By The Billionaire Husband Who wanted Me Back : Kapitel 1 – Kapitel 10

(Anna POV)The apartment felt emptier than usual, though I had lived here alone many times when Sam was away. This time, the silence wasn’t just absence—it was deliberate, a weight pressing into every corner, every wall. I poured myself a cup of coffee and watched the steam curl in the morning light, but it did nothing to warm the hollow inside me.I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw something across the room and watch it shatter, because maybe if something broke, I could release the ache that had been quietly eating me alive for years. But instead, I sat in the soft chair by the window and sipped, letting the bitterness of the coffee match the bitterness of my thoughts.Sam wasn’t here. Not physically, not emotionally. He hadn’t been home last night, and this morning, I hadn’t even received a text explaining why. Not a hint, not a word. Just the predictable, suffocating absence. I wondered if he even thought about me when he was away—or if I had already become invisible to him, lik

Anna POV I had never felt fear like this before not the kind that makes your chest tighten, your fingers tremble, your stomach sink into a pit that feels bottomless. And yet, here I was, standing frozen at the top of the grand staircase in Sam’s family mansion, staring at Claire lying on the cold marble floor, her eyes wide, lips slightly parted in shock but also… triumph. The sound of my own heartbeat was deafening. My mind screamed at me, but my body wouldn’t move. “I… I didn’t ” My voice cracked, faltering. I couldn’t even finish the sentence. How could I? How could I explain that I hadn’t touched her, hadn’t pushed her, hadn’t even thought of harming her? Claire laughed softly, the sound cruel and sweet at the same time. “Oh, Anna… are you really going to try and deny it? You were so angry. Everyone saw you glaring at me, pacing behind me. You practically shoved me.” I felt my knees weaken. She was twisting it, bending reality into a shape that painted me as the villain.

I woke to the cold light of morning creeping through the blinds, but warmth—or the memory of it—still lingered in my skin. My body ached in ways I couldn’t name. Not just from the alcohol, not just from the vague weight of last night, but from something heavier, more insidious: a suspicion gnawing at me, a whisper that I was no longer safe in my own life, not even in my bed.I tried to remember the night, but it was like trying to recall a dream I’d barely woken from. Faces blurred. Voices merged. Hands that I had trusted… that I had wanted… suddenly seemed unfamiliar. And then the thought hit me like ice in my veins: what if it wasn’t Sam at all?Panic rose in my chest, sharp and cold. I had believed him, trusted him, maybe even still loved him in some foolish, desperate part of me. And all along… he had been lying. Deceiving me. Using me.I sat on the edge of the bed, the sheets falling around me like a shroud. My stomach churned—not from hangover alone—but from the fear that my lif

I didn’t answer him. Because I was afraid of the answer. “Do you really want to know?” His voice wasn’t threatening. It wasn’t cruel. It was careful. As if the truth would shatter something fragile inside me. I swallowed. “Yes.” He held my gaze. Then he stepped back. “Not yet.” My breath hitched. “What do you mean, not yet?” My voice cracked. “You come here, tell me my life is a lie, tell me my husband is dangerous, and now you say not yet?” His expression tightened. “If I tell you everything right now, you won’t be safe.” “I’m not safe already!” The words exploded out of me. He didn’t argue. He just watched me — like he was measuring something. Like he was calculating the risk of my existence. That terrified me more than anything. “Why were you in my house?” I demanded. He didn’t blink. “I wasn’t supposed to be.” The air grew heavy between us. “Then why were you?” His jaw flexed slightly. “Because your husband wasn’t there.” My pulse spiked. “You keep say

The apartment felt different when I returned.Not the place I had left hours ago, not the safe haven I thought it had been.The air smelled faintly metallic, like the remnants of a storm, or the faint tang of something hidden. Something watched. I could feel it in the bones of the walls, in the corners where shadows refused to bend with the light.I closed the door behind me carefully, as if the act itself could seal away the chaos that followed me. My hands trembled. My stomach churned. Every step toward the bedroom felt like walking into a trap.The envelope Lucas had given me burned against my thigh. The hospital records. The proof. The lies I had been living for twenty-eight years were slowly crystallizing into reality, sharp and unforgiving. My parents weren’t my parents. My husband had been using me. And that night—the night I barely remembered—the person I had trusted most… may not have been the one who held me.I sat on the edge of the bed, my fingers trembling, tracing the fo