Too Late To Want Me Back, Ex-Husband! のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 61 - チャプター 70

SHAWNWhat?I snapped my head back toward Cassius, my voice trembling with fury. “Are you aware of this, Cas?! Did you help them do this to me?”Cassius finally looked at me, his expression a mix of pity and cold professionalism. “I just found out about the specific identity of the buyers this morning, Shawn… and they are completely right. The company is finished. A complete sellout is the best option we have left on the table. And to be fair, they are actually offering an incredibly good deal. You can ask your grandfather yourself; he still gets to keep some minor stake in the restructured entity.”I turned my desperate gaze back to my grandfather. It looked as though he had aged ten years in the span of ten seconds right before my eyes. His proud shoulders hunched over, and whatever remnant of color and light he had left completely drained from his face and eyes.“Gramps…” I whispered, reaching out a hand.“Shut up!” he suddenly snarled directly at me, his face twisting with a bitte

ELARA“You called the press?” I asked Liam, tilting my head slightly as we walked out of the elevator.The polished marble of the lobby was already teeming with a hungry crowd of media personnel, and through the massive double glass exit doors, I could see an even larger horde waiting outside, their lenses aimed like weapons. We had left Maxwell back in the boardroom to communicate the details of our acquisition deal to the rest of his people. Maybe we would prune the board and remove some of the dead weight after conducting a bit more research, but for now, he could do what he did best. Managing the aftermath, until I officially stepped in and made the necessary adjustments.My brother merely shrugged, keeping his hands slouched casually in his pockets. “You don’t like it?”A slow smile spread across my face, and I nudged him playfully with my shoulder. “Of course I do. I hadn’t even thought of it. Something to cement the win, huh?”Before Liam could give me an answer, a quiet thro

KILLIANI leaned back in my chair, watching the recent episode of the Linday’s destruction on my tablet with deep satisfaction.I was in my private corner office—a space that was less of a workspace and more of a sprawling testament to absolute corporate power. The room was massive, defined by towering, seamless floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a sweeping, dizzying panoramic view of the city’s concrete empire below. Every single feature inside the room screamed bespoke luxury, from the rare dark mahogany paneling and the plush velvet minimalist couches to the expensive, hand-carved obsidian desk I rested my elbows on.My thumb lazily scrolled through the live digital feed. A smug, wicked grin slowly spread across my lips as the headlines updated in a continuous cascade of ruin. I clicked on the newly uploaded lobby footage, watching the video of Miranda’ public disgrace, but it was the look of pure, unadulterated devastation on Shawn Lindays's face that truly made my chest rumb

ELARAI threw my head back against the plush, waterproof headrest of the tub, letting out a long, ragged exhale as the soothing evening ritual began to take its full effect.The large bathroom was a masterclass in opulence—clad entirely in thick slabs of heated white Calacatta marble, featuring a massive, freestanding porcelain soaking tub and double vanity mirrors trimmed in brushed gold. The heavy, warm air in the room was completely saturated with the sweet, intoxicating scents of lavender, vanilla, and essential oils that melted away the deep tension knotting my muscles. I had returned from the office an hour ago, and I had desperately needed this escape.I lifted my right hand, swirling the dark, expensive vintage within my crystal glass before taking a slow, appreciative sip. Playing the domestic housewife for all those years had truly made me forget just how utterly exhausting corporate work could be, though I certainly didn’t miss the domestic life. God forbid I ever subjec

ELARA“Malcolm…” I whispered, the name slipping from my lips for the first time in more than seven years, like a fragile, sacred secret.Fresh tears blurred my vision as I wept over my late best friend, and if I was entirely honest with myself, my very first childhood crush and love. It was probably the exact reason our parents had officially betrothed us to each other at such a young age. Inseparable, my mother had always fondly claimed, telling the story of how a tiny Malcolm had smiled brilliantly and gently wrapped his hand around my little finger when he came with his family to see me for the first time, just a month after my birth.“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” I said over and over again into the empty room.Lifting my head, I rested it heavily against the back of the sofa, staring up at the plaster moldings of the ceiling as I finally allowed myself to indulge in the suffocating memories I had pushed down so deep, the ones I had fought tooth and nail to forget. The dam had offic