Todos os capítulos de Too Late To Want Me Back, Ex-Husband!: Capítulo 41 - Capítulo 50

SHAWN“Hey! Let me have two more!” I screamed at the bartender, holding up my empty glass before slamming it down to join the others—seven, maybe nine cups already cluttering the wood in front of me. My vision was beginning to smear into a blur of neon and shadow, my voice thick and slurry, aggressive even to my own ears. Yet, my mind remained cruelly, agonizingly sharp. And it was that mind I wanted to dull… to silence the voice that screamed profanities, branding me a failure and a loser. I watched one of the bartenders approach, his brow furrowed in a look of pity that made my stomach churn.“Sir, you are already drunk… I think you should get home…” he said, reaching for the empty glasses.As he made to leave with them, I lunged forward and grabbed his sleeved arm, my fingers digging into the fabric. “What did you say?” I screamed in his face, the smell of cheap whiskey heavy on my breath. “What did you just say? Do you know who I am? Do you?” I punched the aisle, the wood rat

SHAWNThe canopy of the forest was a jagged, suffocating ceiling of interlocking branches that bled into a sky the color of a fresh bruise. I was running, my lungs burning with the sensation of inhaled glass, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird desperate for escape. I didn’t know who was behind me, but I could hear them… the rhythmic thud of heavy boots on damp earth, the snapping of twigs, and a low, dissonant humming that made the hair on my arms stand up. Every shadow seemed to stretch toward me, clawed fingers reaching out from the bark of gnarled trees to snag my clothes.Terrible fear saturated my senses. It was the frightened desperation that kept my legs moving even as they turned to lead. My thoughts were a jumbled mess of static and guilt; I knew I had messed up. I had crossed a line I couldn't uncross, and now they were coming for me.The forest felt like a maze, shifting and twisting until I was running in circles, the air growing colder, the humming

SHAWNI watched Miranda struggle to rise from the bed, her small hand clutching at her chest as if trying to hold her heart inside her ribs, and I felt nothing. Absolute nothing. Well, except for a simmering, insane anger that threatened to boil over again. She had messed up my life, walking into my world only to turn it into a graveyard. How could she have been so reckless as to release those photos without my consent? Wasn’t she supposed to be intelligent enough to grasp the catastrophic consequences? To understand that Elara wasn’t some peasant housewife anymore?Did she honestly think the Vikings would take this lying down? Did she mistake their silence for unraveling, or think that Elara’s "Queen of Tech" moniker was just empty branding? I watched her with a mounting sense of disgust, wondering if this woman had ever stopped to research the sheer scale of the Queen of Tech’s accomplishments before engaging in this suicidal nonsense.“Sha…”“Miranda, if you call me ‘Shawny’ ag

KILLIANWhat do I want? I want to kill Shawn Lindays. I want to tear the skin off him inch by inch, while his screams—doubling as music to my ears—keep echoing and echoing until he loses his voice. I want to burn down his company. I want to beat it down until nothing is left of it, until it fades away from the minds of people.Even though the pictures had been posted by an anonymous account, I knew he was behind it. I just knew. It had his dirty fingerprints all over it; either him or that wretched bitch he had cheated on Elara with. But it had come from him. And he would surely pay, highly, for it.What do I want? I want Elara to trust me, just as much as I want to touch her. When her father had given me permission to step into the inner wings of the Vikings Mansion, it was because I had been insistent on meeting my bride, on helping her. He had warned me, of course, that his dear daughter was self-reliant and that she only allowed them in whenever she was done with the first

ELARAFor a heartbeat, the mask slipped.The air in the room seemed to thin as Killian’s expression fractured—a flash of hurt that rippled across his features before he could catch it. It was there in the sudden tension of his jaw and the way his eyes dimmed, losing that predatory spark for one solitary second. I saw it clearly, and for a moment, a traitorous pang of guilt flared in my chest. My emotions, those fickle, unreliable things, tried to soften. But I reigned them in with a ruthlessness born of survival. I couldn't afford to care about his feelings; I couldn't afford to believe the vulnerability was anything more than another layer of his game.I steeled myself, my gaze turning back to ice as I watched him smooth the hurt away until his face was a marble bust once more."If all you have to offer is a trip down memory lane and a lecture on my past, then you should leave," I said, my voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "I didn't invite you here to be my therapist