All Chapters of DIVORCED Back To Claim What’s Mine : Chapter 201 - Chapter 210

The deafening roar of applause exploded beneath the vaulted glass arches of the Grand Palais, shaking the very foundations of Parisian high society.Paris came alive as celebrities, royalty, political leaders, and the world’s most influential fashion editors gathered for Elara’s historic collection. The air inside the iconic venue was electric, charged with high glamour and tense anticipation. Thousands of flashbulbs flickered like a galaxy of stars, illuminating the runway as international camera crews beamed the spectacle live to millions across seven continents.When the curtains rose, her designs left the audience speechless.Model after model drifted down the long, mirrored runway clad in jaw-dropping creations. The collection combined ancient Vance craftsmanship with modern luxury, transforming years of family pain into something beautiful. Gold threads, hand-woven on historic wooden looms from her childhood village, were seamlessly fused with sleek, dark velvet and tailored sil

Charlie ran towards the switch before Marcus could handcuff him. He can’t just let them cuff him without him completing what he came to do. "Drop your hand, Charlie, or I will break it before you even touch that switch." Tyler’s voice slammed through the low, buzzing hum of the transformer room like an artillery shell. Charlie gasped, his hand freezing mere centimeters away from the cold steel of the master power lever. He spun around on the high-voltage catwalk, his spine slamming against the metal control panel. His face was slick with sweat, his eyes wide and bloodshot, filled with the wild, unpredictable terror of a trapped animal. Tyler stepped into the dim amber light of the emergency LEDs. Behind him stood Marcus, holding a military-grade tactical tablet, and Sarah, carrying a sealed leather briefcase packed with physical documents. Tyler didn't draw a gun. He didn't rush forward him. He stood ten feet away on the steel mesh floor, his massive shoulders blocking the only

The silence of the penthouse corridor was shattered by the muffled, hollow thud of a suppressed breaching charge.The celebration was interrupted when Lydia’s rogue mercenary unit attempts to breach the private VIP wing of the Hotel George V.Miles away from the glittering spotlights and thunderous applause of the Grand Palais, a secondary strike force of four heavily armed black-market operatives moved through the private residential floor of the Hotel George V. Dressed in dark tactical gear with heavy ballistic armor, they surged down the carpeted hallway, their suppressed submachine guns drawn, moving straight toward the suite holding the crown jewel of the Hawthorne family: little Leo.Inside the royal suite, the main entrance door shuddered against its frame as the electronic locks sizzled from a localized EMP pulse.Marcus’s security team immediately moves Leo to safety and forms a defensive perimeter around him."Red protocol! Secure the package now!" the team lead barked into

"Shoot them! Don't let her touch that river!"Marcus’s voice echoed through the burning smoke, but his command was instantly swallowed by a roaring explosion that shook the banks of the Seine.The icy, pitch-black water of the River Seine swallowed Lydia whole with a violent, deafening splash.The shock of the freezing river slammed into her chest like a sledgehammer, driving every drop of air from her lungs. The current surged around her body, heavy and unforgiving, pulling her down toward the dark riverbed. Her thick velvet coat rapidly filled with filthy, frigid water, weighing her down like iron chains.For three terrifying seconds, darkness suffocated her. But sheer, venomous survival instinct ignited inside her soul.Lydia kicked furiously against the dark current, her blood roaring in her ears, her clawed fingers tearing through the water until her head finally burst through the surface.She broke through the fog, gasping violently for air, her lungs burning, her raw throat cou

The deafening roar of overlapping camera shutters sounded like a rainstorm inside the grand hall of the Palais de Luxembourg.Less than three hours after watching her ex-husband Charlie bound in iron chains aboard the private jet, Elara stood before a sea of international journalists at her final Paris press conference. The contrast was terrifyingly: while Charlie was high above the Atlantic facing federal ruin, Elara stood at the pinnacle of global high society, surrounded by foreign diplomats, media moguls, and prestigious cultural ministers.On the velvet draped podium before her sat the ultimate prize in global design: the European Golden Needle Award. Its polished gold surfaces caught the blinding glare of hundreds of flashing cameras as the world celebrated her extraordinary victory."Madame Vance! Over here!" a senior editor from Vogue Paris shouted over the commotion. "Is it true that Maison d'Elara Global has broken all historic sales records across Europe in a single evening