Todos os capítulos de My Ex Husband Who Despised Me Before, Now Wants Me Back.: Capítulo 41 - Capítulo 50

“No,” Gideon said, for the fourth time.Sarah kept putting on her earrings. “She invited me into her house. When will that happen again?”“Her house. Her rules.”“Then I will learn them fast.” She looked at him in the mirror. “Jackson already has an ear in that house. You can listen from the car. If I need you, I will say, the rice is burning.”It was a silly code. It was from the night they burned dinner and laughed. But it made his shoulders drop a little. He drove her to the gate himself. When she got out, he held her hand a second too long.The house was big and pale, with tall windows. The floor was so shiny that Sarah could see her own face in it. A maid took her coat. The hall smelled of wax and old money.Hannah stood at the head of a table set for two.“Miss Moore. How kind of you to come.”“Mrs. Williams.”They shook hands. Hannah’s hand was cool and dry. It was the same hand that had once pushed a suitcase across the floor toward her.They sat. Hannah sent the maid away and

That night, at ten o’clock, Frederick walked into the lobby of Gideon’s building. No call. No plan.“Sorry, sir, Mr. Gideon is not seeing anyone...”“Tell him it is Frederick.”The guard called upstairs. He listened. He put the phone down slowly.“He is coming down.”Gideon came out four minutes later. No tie. Sleeves rolled up. They stopped a few steps apart. They had been friends since school days. Neither could say when that friendship had turned into a border line.“You said enough today, Frederick.”“I did not come to talk. I came to see her.”“She is not here for you.”“Gideon.” Frederick’s voice dropped. “There is something she must know about her father. It cannot wait. If someone else tells her first, it will be worse.”“Someone else?” Gideon’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”Frederick said nothing. That was the answer.“You let her walk out with one suitcase,” Gideon said slowly. “I warned you. You said she was a burden you were glad to lose. I do not know what you carry now. But I kn

The Aurevia rooftop had olive trees in big pots, wooden benches, and a glass wall that showed the whole city. At six in the evening, the sun was sinking behind the towers. The sky looked like tea with milk.Frederick stood at the far edge. He had taken off his jacket. The wind pulled at his hair. For a moment, he did not look like a chief executive. He looked like the boy who used to wait outside her lecture hall with two cups of bad coffee.“You came,” he said.“I came to hear what you could not say in a corridor.” She stopped four steps away. “You have until the sun goes down.”He nodded. It was fair.“Five years ago, in the week of our divorce, my mother put a pile of papers in front of me. I signed where she pointed. I did not read them. I just wanted that week to be over.” His voice was flat, like a man who had practiced this a hundred times in his head. “One page was a transfer. Money from Moore Consortium to Williams Capital. A loan that was never meant to be paid back. My name

Beatrice Moore lived in a small honey-colored house at the end of a street full of jacaranda trees. When Gideon turned in at the gate, Sarah saw a gray car parked three doors down. A man sat inside, pretending to read a newspaper.“Jackson’s,” Gideon said. “He has been there since yesterday.”Her mother opened the door before they knocked. Beatrice was small, with silver at her temples. She wore a plain blue dress and the pearls she wore for every big moment of Sarah’s life. She opened her arms without a word. Sarah walked into them and felt like a little girl again. Her mother smelled of lavender and warm wool.“Come in,” Beatrice said. “You are too thin. Both of you. I made stew. Nobody says the name Hannah Williams until you finish a bowl.”They ate at the old kitchen table. Beatrice asked Gideon about his work, as if nothing was wrong. When the bowls were empty and the tea was poured, she folded her hands.“I have hidden two things from you,” she said. “First, I hid for five years

By seven o’clock on the seventh evening, the Grand Meridian ballroom looked like a palace. A thousand candles shone in mirrored walls. White orchids stood on every table. A string band played from the balcony.Sarah stood at the top of the marble stairs in a dark wine-red gown. Her hair was up. Her mother’s pearls were cool on her neck. Below her, the richest people in the city walked in, and every one of them looked up.“Last chance to run away to the coast,” Gideon whispered.“You would hate the coast.”“I would hate it a little. But only a little, if you were there.”She laughed. It almost sounded steady. At four o’clock that afternoon, she had stood in a dim bank vault on Harbor Street with a brass key in her hand. A manager had slid a metal box across a steel table. Inside, wrapped in old, brittle paper, was one document. Six pages. Two inks. Two witnesses. Forty percent of all issues and profits of Williams Capital, now and forever. She had read it standing, the hair rising on h