All Chapters of I Married the Man My Ex Could Never Compete With : Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

202 Chapters

Marcus Taken

Adrian POV It doesn’t start with confirmation. It starts with absence. “Still nothing,” Damien says. I don’t look up from the screen. “Define nothing.” “No movement on his known devices. No financial activity. No confirmed sightings in the last twelve hours.” “Twelve?” “Yes.” “That’s not nothing,” I say. “That’s a gap.” “And you think it’s intentional.” “I think it’s controlled.” Silence settles for a second. Because we both know what that means. Marcus isn’t the kind of man who disappears quietly. Not without a reason. Not without making noise somewhere. Which means— This isn’t his decision. “Last known location,” I say. Damien brings it up immediately. “Downtown. Near the east corridor. Surveillance picks him up entering—” “I don’t need the building,” I cut in. “I need the exit.” “There isn’t one.” Of course there isn’t. “Any disruption?” I ask. “Minimal,” Damien replies. “No public incident. No reports. No visible force.” “Then it was clean.” “Yes.” Which

The truth about his Father

Lydia POV The documents don’t arrive all at once. They come in layers. First the official files. Clean copies. Structured, reviewed, stamped with the kind of precision that says this is what you’re meant to see. Then the second set. Unindexed. Unreferenced. Not part of the formal chain. That’s the one I’m holding now. “This wasn’t included in the original disclosure,” the lawyer says carefully. “Obviously,” I reply, not looking up. “If it was, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” The room is quieter than before. Not tense in the same way. Something heavier. Like everyone already understands that whatever this is— It changes things. “Where did you find it?” I ask. “It was attached to a dormant entity,” he says. “One that hasn’t been active in years.” “Dormant doesn’t mean irrelevant.” “No,” he agrees. “It usually means hidden.” Exactly. I turn the page slowly. Not rushing. Because this isn’t information you skim. This is the kind you feel as it unfolds. Dates

The man behind the War

Adrian POV The name doesn’t come to me first. The pattern does. It’s in the timing. The way everything aligned too cleanly. The legal challenge surfacing exactly when the board fractured. The media pressure building just enough to destabilize, not enough to collapse. The attacks—precise, controlled, never excessive. That’s not Richard. Richard escalates. He pushes. He takes advantage of weakness. But this This was built before the weakness existed. “Say it again,” I tell Damien. He doesn’t argue. He rarely does when I use that tone. “The entity Lydia flagged,” he says, pulling the file back up. “It connects to a private network. No public ownership. No direct traceable leadership.” “Indirect?” “Yes.” “Through who.” A pause. “Through Arclight.” Of course. “That’s not origin,” I say. “That’s access.” “I know.” “Then keep going.” He scrolls. Layer after layer. Entities folded into each other, ownership shifting just enough to avoid clarity, but not enough to lose

Lydia’s Power Moves

Lydia POV They don’t expect me to walk in. That’s the advantage. The boardroom is already in motion when I arrive. Voices low, controlled, but carrying the kind of urgency that doesn’t wait for permission. Documents are open. Decisions are halfway made. And Adrian isn’t there. Of course he isn’t. That absence is the point. “…we move now before the next market shift,” one of them is saying as I step inside. “Delaying only weakens our position further.” “Agreed,” another adds. “Arclight is prepared to advise on the transition structure.” Advisory. That word again. Clean. Neutral. Convenient. No one notices me immediately. Good. I take a few steps in before speaking. “You’re moving too quickly.” The room stills. Not completely. Just enough. Heads turn. Eyes sharpen. And there it is— Surprise. Not hostility. Not yet. Just the realization that something has entered the room they didn’t account for. “Mrs. Cole,” Cho says carefully. “This is a closed session.” “I

Adrain Breaks

Adrian POV The room is quieter now. Not because things have slowed down. Because I’ve stepped out of them. The screens are still running. Numbers shifting. Reports updating. Messages coming in faster than they can be answered. But none of it is mine anymore. Not in the way it used to be. Authority changes everything. Without it, information becomes noise. And for the first time in a long time I let it stay that way. I don’t touch the screen in front of me. I don’t ask for updates. I don’t give instructions. Damien noticed it ten minutes ago. He didn’t say anything. He just watched. Waiting for me to re-engage. Waiting for the next order. It doesn’t come. “You’re letting it drift,” he says finally. “I know.” “That’s not like you.” “No.” “Then what is this?” I don’t answer immediately. Because I don’t have a clean word for it. It’s not hesitation. It’s not defeat. It’s something else. Something quieter. “I’m thinking,” I say. “You’ve always done that whil

The Choice Reversed

Lydia POV He doesn’t hear me walk in. That’s the first sign. Adrian Cole always hears everything. Movement, shifts in tone, the smallest disruption in a room. He reads it before it happens. But now Nothing. He’s standing by the glass, looking out at the city like it still belongs to him. Like something out there hasn’t already started slipping. “I spoke to the board,” I say. No response. Not even a shift. “I know,” he replies after a moment. Of course he does. He knows everything that matters. But knowing isn’t the same as understanding. “They stopped the motion,” I continue. “Yes.” “You’re not going to ask how.” “I don’t need to.” That’s the problem. I walk further into the room, slow, deliberate, giving him time to turn. He doesn’t. “You should,” I say. A pause. Then— “I know you were involved,” he replies. “Involved?” Now he turns. Finally. Not sharp. Not defensive. Just… slower than he used to be. “You stepped in,” he says. “Used the structure.” “Ye

The Choice She Makes

Lydia POV I don’t wait for him to respond. That part is over. Whatever Adrian was going to say whatever answer he couldn’t give it no longer controls what happens next. By the time I leave the room, I’m already moving. “Get me legal,” I tell the assistant the moment I step into the hallway. She hesitates for half a second, then nods quickly. “Yes, Mrs. Cole.” Not Lydia. Not anymore. That shift is small. But I feel it. The conference room is already set when I walk in. Three lawyers. Two screens. Files open. They stand when I enter. I don’t acknowledge it. “Sit,” I say, taking the head of the table before they can offer it. They exchange a glance. Then sit. Good. “Status,” I say. The senior counsel clears his throat. “We’ve reviewed the structural layer you referenced. It’s… more complex than initially assessed.” “Complex doesn’t matter,” I reply. “Control does.” “Yes,” he says carefully. “And based on that control, there are options.” “I’m not here for options,”

The Leak That Hurt

Lydia POV It starts before anyone tells me. A shift in the room. Subtle. Unspoken. The assistant who usually meets my eyes doesn’t today. Two analysts stop talking the moment I pass. A screen is turned slightly away, just enough to hide what’s on it. Not panic. Not yet. Something sharper. Awareness. I don’t slow down. “Pull media,” I say as I walk into my office. “Yes, Mrs. Cole.” The hesitation is back. Not disrespect. Just… adjustment. Good. By the time the screen comes alive, I already know what I’m going to see. Still— I watch it anyway. A headline sits at the center, clean and deliberate: “Inside Lydia Cole’s Quiet Takeover of Cole Group.” Not rumor. Not speculation. Framed. Structured. Intentional. “Volume?” I ask. “Spiking,” Damien says from behind me. I didn’t hear him come in. “Multiple outlets picked it up within minutes.” Of course they did. This wasn’t a leak. It was a release. Coordinated. Timed. I scroll. Quotes. Anonymous sources. Legal

Marcus breaks under pressure

Marcus POV There are no restraints. That’s the first thing I notice. No locked doors. No guards standing over me. No threats spoken out loud. Just a room that feels… closed. Controlled. Like leaving was never part of the design. “You’re not being held here,” the voice says. I don’t see him. Not directly. He’s somewhere behind me. Or above. Or just out of view. That’s intentional. “Then open the door,” I reply. A pause. Almost like he’s considering it. Then— “No.” I let out a short breath, leaning back in the chair. “Then don’t pretend this is anything else.” “I’m not pretending,” he says calmly. “I’m clarifying.” Silence settles. Not tense. Just… stretched. “You’re here because you walked into something you didn’t understand,” he continues. “That’s your version.” “It’s the accurate one.” I don’t respond. Because arguing gives him control. And right now— Control is all he’s offering. “You’ve been close to them,” he says. Them. Not names. Not yet. “You

The Move that Backfire

Adrian POV It looks clean on paper. That should have been the first warning. “Internal alignment is ready,” Damien says, placing the summary in front of me. “Three departments. Two board-adjacent voices. Enough to slow external influence if we move now.” I skimmed it once. Then again. Every line makes sense. Every angle accounted for. Every risk… minimized. Which means it’s already flawed. “Execution window?” I ask. “Immediate,” he replies. “Before the next board session locks in their current direction.” I nod once. That part is right. Timing is the only thing we still control. “Do it,” I say. No hesitation. No second pass. Because if I start questioning it I won’t move at all. The first hour is quiet. That’s expected. Internal shifts don’t announce themselves. They ripple. Subtle. Contained. Invisible to anyone not looking directly at them. “Finance is holding position,” Damien reports. “Compliance is slowing approvals. Operations flagged two Arclight-link

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