Semua Bab Too Late to Win Back The Ex-Wife: Bab 51 - Bab 60

Claire's POV:For a moment, I was speechless. A wave of genuine, clinical concern washed over me. Was there something… cognitively wrong with him? The divorce petition from my lawyer, the court notices—were they invisible? Illiterate?"Is this because you saw the financial demands in the divorce filing?" I asked, my voice flat with disbelief. "Scared of the discovery process? Let me be clear: I'm not interested in private settlement. Don't humiliate yourself trying."Nathan's expression darkened instantly. He tossed the unlit cigarette aside and closed the distance between us in two long strides."I'm offering you a concession," he said, his voice low. "You should be grateful." His hands came down on my shoulders, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Considering you went begging to Monica Reed for the sake of Sterling's image, I'm willing to consider a reset."A wave of nausea hit me. This man… I had loved him so desperately once. The thought of his touch now felt like being brushed by somet

Claire's POV:Carter drove himself. I sank into the backseat, grateful for the distance, the dark. The city lights streamed by, smeared by the fresh tears I refused to let fall. He didn't speak. He didn't offer hollow platitudes or probing questions. He gave me the priceless gift of silence.All too soon, the car pulled up to my modest apartment complex. The spell of motion broke. I blinked, feeling raw and exposed under the harsh lobby lights.I met his eyes in the rearview mirror. "You're… a guardian angel for your employees, you know that?" My voice was hoarse.He understood the unspoken thanks. A faint, tired smile touched his lips. "If you feel indebted, you can buy me dinner. But not tonight. Take tomorrow off. Rest. I'll have my assistant pick Leo up from after-care and bring him home. It's handled."I could only nod, the simple kindness unlocking a fresh wave of vulnerability. As I stepped out of the car, the tears finally broke free, hot and silent. He saw them. Of course he

Nathan's POV:The car pointed itself home, a metal shell carrying a hollow man. The estate was dark, a monolithic silhouette against the moonlit sky. Ben was with Hannah, the live-in staff long gone.No lights welcomed me. In the pale glow, the house looked less like a home and more like a dormant beast, waiting to swallow anyone foolish enough to enter. A sudden, irrational trepidation froze me at the foot of the driveway.The facial recognition scanner by the door beeped softly, a green light slicing the darkness. The lock disengaged with a heavy *thunk*. The front door swung inward silently, like the beast parting its jaws.Stepping inside was like walking into a vacuum. The grand foyer, all marble and high ceilings, felt oppressively empty, the air thin and stale. Each step across the cold floor echoed, a solitary sound in the vast silence. A tightness seized my chest, a physical band of pressure that made drawing a full breath a struggle. I clutched at my shirt, my heart hammerin

Claire's POV:The alcohol had stripped away the last veneer of the polished man he pretended to be. This was the raw, entitled core.I looked at him, really looked, and felt a profound, weary sadness. *This* was the man I'd loved? This arrogant, emotionally stunted stranger?"I'm tired, Nathan. I don't want to argue. Does Isabella know you're here trying to retrieve your wife?" I was stalling now. Buying time. The police had to be close. I just needed to keep him talking, keep him from getting violent, without waking Leo.A triumphant gleam lit his eyes. "There it is. It was never about a job. It's always been about her. You're jealous." He muttered to himself, "Women. You give my biggest rival a weapon because you're in a mood. Clearly, you can't be trusted with sensitive information."The disconnect was absolute. We were speaking different languages, operating in different realities. Our marriage hadn't shattered in a single moment; it had been eroding for years, grain by grain, in

Claire's POV: After seeing Casper out, I took the executed contract to Carter's office. He was at his desk, a half-finished cup of black coffee beside him, the surface an organized chaos of documents and architectural models. He was genuinely buried, not avoiding the meeting.I placed the contract before him. "All signed. The terms are exceptionally fair—almost suspiciously so. I've reviewed it, but you should, of course."He put down his pen and came around the desk, taking a few moments to scan the key clauses. A flicker of what might have been approval crossed his impassive features. "Efficient. The terms are more than acceptable. The Reed family doesn't give away advantages lightly.""Monica drafted them," I admitted. "The only notable condition is shared design credit and nomination rights if the project wins a national or international award."He flipped to the signature page. His gaze lingered on the second name. "Casper Reed is listed as co-designer and project liaison?"I no