All Chapters of DIVORCED Back To Claim What’s Mine : Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

253 Chapters

Chapter one-hundred & fifty

Charlie povThe sickening, rhythmic beep of a heart monitor was the only sound echoing through the freezing darkness of Room 402.Outside the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the elite Manhattan private hospital, the city lights flickered through a cold, pouring rain. Inside, the air smelled heavily of antiseptic, rubbing alcohol, and fresh blood a sterile tomb reserved for the dying.On the center medical bed lay Charlie Vane.Following his horrific internal hemorrhaging on stage, Charlie lies unconscious in the intensive care unit, connected to life support monitors. Thick plastic tubes were shoved down his throat, a mechanical ventilator hissing sharply as it forced air into his bruised, damaged lungs. His pale, sunken face was almost translucent under the harsh blue glow of the digital screens, his lips blue and chapped. Transparent IV lines delivered heavy doses of synthetic narcotics, blood thinners, and emergency clotting agents into his bruised veins, struggling to keep his f

Chapter one-hundred & fifty-one

While the Grand Ballroom was spiraling into pure, unadulterated madness the red sirens flashing, the press cameras blinding the crowd, and federal marshals snapping heavy iron handcuffs onto Silas and Beatrice Lydia saw her fleeting window of survival. With Charlie thrashing in a pool of his own blood on the stage and every eye locked onto the public downfall of her parents, Lydia lowered her head, buried her face in her hands, and let out a series of high-pitched, fake hysterical sobs.Clutching her emerald green dress tightly around her waist, she pressed her trembling hands over her strategic, heavy silicone padding, pretending to be a heartbroken, overwhelmed pregnant woman on the verge of fainting."My baby... my poor husband!" she shrieked for the benefit of the nearby reporters, using the surging, panicked crowd of billionaires as a human shield.Two venue security guards tried to step in her direction to offer medical assistance, but Lydia pushed past them violently, screaming

Chapter one-hundred & fifty-two

Elara The heavy oak double doors of the Grand Ballroom slammed shut behind Silas and Beatrice Vance, sealing their fate into the cold, sirens filled Manhattan night. Yet inside the vast, gilded hall, the air remained charged with a frantic, electric shock. The flashing strobe lights of two hundred international news cameras continued to illuminate the room like a violent thunderstorm, capturing the lingering copper scent of fresh blood on the stage where Charlie had collapsed and the shattered remnants of a fallen dynasty.Hundreds of high-society elites, billionaire investors, and media moguls stood frozen in the aisles, their mouths agape. Those who had spent the earlier hours whispering vile insults at Elara calling her a thief, a husband-snatcher, and a wicked woman now cowered under the cold, majestic weight of her gaze.Elara did not flee the chaos. She did not retreat behind private security or hide in VIP waiting suites.Instead, standing at her full, majestic height in her

Chapter one-hundred & fifty-three

The rain slicked streets of Manhattan glistened under the amber streetlights as Tyler’s armored Maybach glided smoothly through the late-night quiet.Inside the quiet cabin, the deafening screams of the paparazzi, the flashing floodlights, and the chaotic sirens of the Grand Gala felt a million miles away. Little Leo, utterly exhausted from the long, dramatic evening, was fast asleep in his car seat, his head resting gently against a plush cashmere blanket, his breathing soft and rhythmic.Tyler drove home with Elara and Leo, his large hand resting over Elara’s on the leather seat between them, his thumb tracing warm, reassuring circles across her skin.As they got home, it was already late at night. The private elevator lifted them straight into the serene warmth of their sprawling penthouse suite overlooking the city lights. Tyler gently unbuckled Leo and carried the sleeping boy in his arms down the dimly lit hallway, with Elara following closely behind. Together, they tucked Leo i

Chapter one-hundred & fifty-four

The morning sun poured through the massive industrial skylights of the sprawling Manhattan garment district, illuminating millions of floating silk fibers and the humming rows of high end sewing machinery. This was the true heart of the corporate beast the flagship design studios and manufacturing floors where thousands of world class tailors, pattern makers, and seamstresses spent eighteen hour days turning raw fabric into multi-thousand-dollar luxury gowns.For years, under the oppressive reign of Charlie Vane and Lydia's tyrannical tantrums, this floor had been a place of misery. Underpaid, overworked, and deprived of their promised pensions, the artisans had been treated like nameless machines, their creative genius stolen to fund Charlie’s lavish lifestyle and Lydia’s endless shopping sprees in Paris.At precisely nine in the morning, the heavy glass doors of the central floor swung open.Elara walked onto the polished concrete floor, looking every bit the royal sovereign in a ta

Chapter one-hundred & fifty-five

Inside the quiet study of her Upstate retreat, the glowing screens of three tablet computers and a wall mounted television were all tuned to different news channels. Every single broadcast was broadcasting the same historic spectacle: Elara Vance standing tall at the Hawthorne Vance Tower, radiant, dignified, and universally praised as she announced the complete absorption of the Vane Group into Maison d'Elara Global.Lydia watched in helpless, boiling fury as the news anchors gushed over Elara's grace. She saw the social media feeds erupting with praise for the new Supreme CEO, while scrolling banners at the bottom of the screen continuously reminded the world of Silas and Beatrice’s arrest and Charlie’s critical condition in the ICU. To make matters worse, a breaking alert flashed across the screen confirming that all personal accounts, credit lines, and luxury stipends tied to Lydia Vane had been completely frozen by executive order.Seeing all the news about vane family and Vance

Chapter one-hundred & fifty-six

Inside the private clinic, Lydia uses her remaining offshore jewelry reserves to heavily bribe a disgraced ER physician, forcing him to fabricate emergency medical logs, alter ultrasound imagery, and sign a fake certificate of fetal loss. The heavy mahogany doors of Suite 302 clicked shut, instantly muffling the distant, frantic roar of the paparazzi shouting on the driveway outside. The private wing of St. Jude’s Clinic smelled of expensive lavender oil and clinical bleach a sterile, quiet sanctuary where rich criminals usually came to hide from subpoenas. Lydia swung her legs over the side of the leather examination table, her face devoid of every tear she had shed for the cameras outside. The mascara smeared across her cheeks no longer looked like genuine grief; it looked like war paint on a desperate, cornered rat. "Damn it!" Lydia spat out, her voice sharp enough to cut glass as she unzipped her dark trench coat and threw it onto a chair. "Lock the door! Lock the damn door, Dr.

Chapter one-hundred & fifty-seven

The grand glass lobby of the Hawthorne corporate headquarters was packed to capacity. Sunlight streamed across the polished white marble, reflecting the bright logos of Maison d'Elara that had been erected overnight. Dozens of accredited journalists, camera crews, and curious employees lingered near the security turnstiles, waiting for the newly crowned Supreme CEO to descend from her private executive elevator. Outside, the street was lined with broadcast vans. Inside, an eerie, expectant hush settled over the crowd a silence that was violently shattered in a single heartbeat. The heavy front revolving doors burst open with a sharp, echoing thud. Armed with her fake medical certificate, Lydia arranges a public hallway encounter with Elara outside the Hawthorne corporate headquarters. Surrounded by screaming reporters, Lydia lunges toward Elara, weeping hysterically and loudly blaming Elara for causing her traumatic miscarriage, attempting to turn public sympathy against the new CEO

Chapter one-hundred & fifty-eight

"Are you done, Lydia?" Elara asked again, her voice smooth as silk and cold as winter frost. The crowded lobby of the Hawthorne corporate headquarters seemed to lose several degrees in temperature. The flashing floodlights of fifty camera crews illuminated the stark, dramatic contrast between the two women: on the cold marble floor knelt Lydia, her stained emerald green dress crumpled around her, her mascara smeared into wild black tracks down her pale cheeks as she wept hysterically; standing above her was Elara, immaculate in her charcoal power suit, her gold embossed Vance signet ring glinting under the grand chandeliers. Elara stands impassive as Lydia screams at her in front of the press. Instead of panicking, Elara looks down at her sister with chilling contempt, whispering that a lie built on blood always collapses under truth, leaving the media divided over Lydia’s sudden claims. Lydia let out another ragged, shivering sob, clutching the gold stamped Certificate of Fetal L

Chapter one-hundred & fifty-nine

In the grand marble lobby of the Hawthorne corporate headquarters, the flashing floodlights of fifty news crews illuminated the dramatic face-off. Lydia remained on her knees, clutching the gold stamped Certificate of Fetal Loss against her emerald dress, weeping hysterically for the cameras and waving the paper like a flag of war. The whispering reporters and corporate employees on the glass balconies were split down the middle, their hostile murmurs buzzing through the air.Elara stood impassive, towering above her crying sister. She did not flinch, nor did she raise her voice. She simply looked down at Lydia with a cold, piercing green gaze that saw straight through the cheap, theatrical performance."Well I will do my investigation and get back to you I did not even touch or near you during the gala, which proof do you have or do you want me to believe papers?" Elara asked, her voice smooth as silk and sharp as surgical steel, easily picked up by the directional broadcast micropho

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