All Chapters of Divorced With His Heir In My Belly: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

[Sarah’s POV]For a heartbeat, the field was a frozen painting of horror. The smell of cordite bit into the back of my throat, sharp and metallic. I didn't think, my body moved on an instinct older than my own name. A primal, screaming drive to reach the children before the echo of the blast even died away. "Caleb! Leena!" The scream tore from my lungs, raw and jagged. I was running before the smoke cleared. My boots thudded against the uneven earth, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. Behind me, I heard Dex’s heavy footsteps and Tyler’s choked, desperate cry of Father! But Tyler couldn't run; I could hear the rhythmic, uneven scrape of his struggle, the physical toll of his injuries slowing him down. I reached the center of the field first. I expected to see Byron face-down in the dirt. I expected to see blood on Caleb’s small, pale face. But as I skidded to a halt, the scene that met me was different, yet no less gruesome. Lucy was on the grass. She looked

[Tyler’s POV]My world had shrunk to the size of a sterilized private suite, the smell of iodine, and the relentless throb of my own heartbeat against the bandages that felt like they were made of lead.I stared at the white ceiling tiles, counting the tiny perforations. I was a Rider, a man who had built an empire in control, yet here I was, pinned to a mattress by my own physical failures. I checked the clock again. Three hours since I’d woken up. Three hours of wondering why the door hadn't opened to reveal the one face I needed to see.I knew Sarah was here. I knew it with the same certainty that I knew the sun would eventually rise above the sky of the city. She wouldn’t leave Caleb’s side; she would be a fixed point at his bedside until the doctors practically dragged her out. But a part of me... a selfish, wounded part, had expected her to walk through that door.The click of the door handle made my heart stutter. I forced myself to sit up, a jagged bolt of pain lancing throug

[Sarah’s POV]My skin prickling with a restless, electric hum that had become my constant companion since the field, as I threw back the duvet. Sleep was now a big deal as my brain replay Norman’s words to me on a loop every night. Do you even know who you truly are?I padded down the hallway, the floorboards cold against my bare feet. My first stop was instinctive. I cracked open the door to Caleb’s room, the soft glow of his turtle nightlight bathing the room in a dim, shifting blue. He was curled into a ball, his breathing deep and rhythmic. Safe. I lingered for a moment, letting the sound of his life anchor me, before pulling the door shut and heading downstairs.The kitchen was a cavern of shadows until I slapped the light switch."Jesus!" I gasped, my hand flying to my heart as the fluorescent bulbs flickered to life.Skye was perched on a high stool at the center island, perfectly still. She didn't flinch like I did. She just sat there with a fork halfway to her mouth, her eyes

[Sarah’s POV] "I cannot believe he would actually suggest that," I snapped, punctuating the sentence by slamming a silver cake server onto the counter. "I mean, I can... it’s Tyler we're talking about here... but the audacity still catches me off guard." Mae, Rosa, and Big Elijah were gathered around the kitchen island like a war council. Rosa was busy slicing into a fresh lemon drizzle cake, her movements casual, while Mae sipped her coffee, her eyes tracking my every move. Big Elijah leaned against the pantry door, his massive frame making the high ceilinged kitchen feel small. "He invited me to a fancy dinner, he booked the whole place, just to talk about brand synergy and becoming a New York power couple," I continued, pacing the length of the marble. "He sat there and looked me in the eye, told me he still loved me, and in the next breath, explained how our coming back together would stabilize the stock prices of the Riders Group. How could I even think otherwise? I should k

[Tyler’s POV] The air inside the boardroom was thick, recycled through expensive filters until it felt artificial. I stood at the head of the table, my hands resting lightly on the back of my chair. I wasn't sitting. Sitting was for those waiting for instruction. I was the one giving it. My side still throbbed—a deep, rhythmic ache from the surgery—but the adrenaline of the play I was making acted as a local anesthetic. Across from me sat the "Four Pillars." These were the major shareholders who held the true power of the Riders Group. They were the ones Sarah had seduced with her logic and her "vision" months ago when I was at my lowest, when she had convinced them I was a liability who had leaked her designs. They had handed her the crown, and she had worn it like a weapon. Now, I was going to take it back. "Gentlemen, and Eliza," I began, my voice steady, projecting a calm that I didn't entirely feel. "I appreciate you convening on such short notice. I know the emergency natur