Lahat ng Kabanata ng My Ex Husband Who Despised Me Before, Now Wants Me Back.: Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

Sarah did not sleep. By seven in the morning, she was sitting in her office, still in yesterday’s hair and yesterday’s worry, watching the sun climb over the city.Gideon came in with two coffees and a tired face. He had not slept either.“Reyes called,” he said. “The poison was a heart drug, in a huge dose. A few sips and the heart just stops. The doctors would call it natural.”“And Pascal?”“Gone. Like smoke.” He put a coffee in front of her. “Hannah’s lawyer already sent a letter. Mrs. Williams is shocked and saddened by baseless rumors. Her words.”Sarah laughed, a flat, hard sound. “She will sleep well tonight.”“Beatrice is safe,” Gideon said. “Three of Jackson’s men at your guest-room door. She is sleeping like a baby.”Sarah nodded. Her eyes were burning. Her phone buzzed on the desk.She glanced at it. A news alert. A big, bold headline, and under it, a picture.WILLIAMS HEIR RISKS LIFE TO SAVE EX-WIFE’S MOTHER. “HE NEVER STOPPED LOVING HER,” SAY FRIENDS.In the picture, Fre

“You said yes,” Gideon said.He stood in the door of her office, holding two cups of tea he had not touched. His face was calm. His voice was not.“I did.” Sarah did not look up from her papers.“To a dinner where your ex-husband’s girlfriend plans to show off a ring.”“Margaret saved my life, Gideon.” Now she looked up. “If she had not stopped me in that hallway, I would have taken one of those glasses. I would be dead. You would be at my funeral.”“A debt can be paid with money.”“She does not want money. She wants a stage.” Sarah closed the file. “So she can have an audience. One night. After that, I owe her nothing.”“You are walking into a trap.”“I know.” She gave him a small, tired smile. “That is why I am taking you.”Gideon looked at her for a long moment. Then, slowly, he put the cups down.“I will be right beside you,” he said. “Every second.”That evening, Beatrice sat in the guest room with her tea, and Sarah told her everything.“Go,” Beatrice said at last. “A debt paid

The next morning, Detective Reyes sat at the long table in Aurevia’s meeting room and laid out four photographs.The first showed a gray car, pulled out of the harbor with weeds on its doors. The second was a man’s hand, with a thin gold ring. The third was a plain white note. The fourth was a small cheap phone, in a plastic bag.“Officially,” Reyes said, “Mr. Pascal took his own life. He drove off the pier. He left a typed note, saying he could no longer live with what he had done.”“And unofficially?” Gideon asked.“Men like Pascal do not write notes.” Reyes rubbed his tired eyes. “He had no family. No friends. He liked money and he liked silence. He did not feel guilt. Somebody wanted him quiet, and somebody made sure of it.”Sarah sat very still. “Hannah.”“Maybe.” Reyes tapped the plastic bag. “But look at this. A burner phone, hidden under his floorboards. In the last month, he called one number eleven times. It is not Mrs. Williams’s number. It is not any number in this country

At a quarter to seven every morning, a tall man in a plain gray coat walked into the lobby of Aurevia Global and put a paper cup on the front desk.“For Miss Moore,” he said. “From a friend.”The receptionist, a young woman called Lily, looked at the cup. It was warm. It smelled of oats and cinnamon. A little card was taped to the lid.Good morning.That was all. No name. No flowers. No speech.On the first day, Lily put the porridge in the bin. On the second day, she put it in the staff kitchen. On the third day, the head of security ate it, and said it was the best porridge he had ever had.On the fourth day, Sarah noticed.“What is that?” she asked, passing the front desk.“It is from, um—” Lily swallowed. “From him. Mr. Williams. He comes every day.”“Tell him to stop.”“I did, Madam. He said, "Of course, and then he came again the next day.”Sarah closed her eyes for a second. “Reception only,” she said. “He is not to go past the desk. If he comes again, give it to the guards.”S

The Grand Meridian Hall shone like a jewel box.Eight hundred guests filled the seats. Cameras lined the walls. A long banner above the stage read: AUREVIA FOUNDERS’ NIGHT. WOMEN WHO REBUILD. Sarah sat at the front table in a gold gown, with Gideon at her side and Beatrice on her left, wearing the same silver pearls.She was calm. She had faced harder rooms than this.But one small thing bothered her. Gideon kept looking at the back of the hall.“What is it?” she whispered.“Nothing,” he said. “I think I saw a ghost.”She followed his eyes. In the last row, in a plain black suit, a tall man sat with his hands folded on his knees.Her heart did a small, annoying flip. She turned away.On stage, a smooth man in a silver jacket took the microphone. He had a bright smile, perfect teeth, and the kind of voice that sold cars. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our host, Dane Cutler!”Applause.“Tonight,” said Cutler, “we honor a woman who rose from nothing. A woman of courage. A woman of