Lahat ng Kabanata ng Chasing the Wife He couldn't Love: Ex-Husband's Regret: Kabanata 111 - Kabanata 120

The glass of the submarine groaned under the teenager’s golden touch. Crump. A spiderweb of cracks spread across the dome. I stared at him, my heart freezing in my chest. This was the boy from the bedroom, the one who had treated my life like a game on his computer. But he wasn't sitting in a messy room anymore. He was standing in the deep, dark ocean as if it were a sidewalk."You really thought you could run?" the teenager’s voice came through the sub’s speakers. He wasn't even using a radio. He was just thinking the words into our heads. "I built this world, Hazel. Every street, every person, every drop of rain. Did you really think Nigeria was outside my reach?""He's not just a player," Logan Frost whispered, his eyes wide with horror. "He's the Architect. The 'teenager' was just an avatar. A mask he wore to make us feel like

The world above us turned into a roar of fire. Even deep in the tunnel, I could feel the heat through the ceiling. The warehouse was gone. Thousands of years of stories, the tubes, and the lies were all burned to ash in a single second. I held Elle tight against my chest, her heart beating like a trapped bird. Bryan was right beside me, his hand gripping my shoulder in the dark."Is everyone okay?" I coughed. The air down here was dusty and smelled like old metal."We’re alive," Silas Thorne’s voice came from the front. He clicked on a small torch. The light hit the damp walls of the tunnel. "But we don't have much time. That beam was just a warning. The Publisher is cleaning the slate.""He just tried to kill hundreds of children!" I snapped. The pain in my shoulder was a dull throb, bu

I fell through the dark, the wind screaming in my ears. I wasn't falling into a pit; I was falling through memories. Images of my life flashed by like broken glass. I saw the day I met Bryan. I saw the first time I held Elle. Every happy moment felt like a cruel joke now. The Publisher was using my own love to keep me weak.I slammed onto a hard floor. The hospital room was gone. I was in a place that looked like an endless library, but the books weren't on shelves. They were floating in the air, their pages turning by themselves."Hazel! Over here!"I looked up. My father was running toward me, his face tight with fear. He still had the gun, but he wasn't pointing it at me anymore. He was pointing it at the floating books."Dad, what is this place?"

The small metal ball rolled across the white marble, spinning until it tapped against my boot. My heart stopped. I looked up and saw Bryan. He was standing at the edge of the floating city, his face covered in grease and blood. His eyes were full of hate as he looked at me. To him, I was Elena, the cold daughter of the man who had ruined our lives."Bryan, no! It’s me! It’s Hazel!" I tried to scream.But my voice came out in that high, glass-sharp tone of the Director. Bryan didn't hear my heart; he only heard the enemy’s voice. He ducked behind a marble pillar, waiting for the blast."Die, you monster!" Bryan yelled.I didn't have time to explain. I dove to the left, my gold cloak flapping like wings.

The escape pod bobbed on the dark waves of the ocean. Inside, the air was thick and smelled like burnt wires. I sat frozen, my back against the cold metal wall. Bryan was right in front of me, checking a small screen to see if we were being followed. He looked so real. I could see the sweat on his forehead and the way his chest moved as he breathed."We made it, Hazel," he said, turning to smile at me. "The city is gone. The Publisher is finished. We can finally go home."He reached out to touch my hand, but I pulled away as if his skin were on fire. My heart was thumping so hard it hurt. I looked at the corner of the pod. The teenager with the gold teeth was still there, leaning against the door. No one else could see him. He was a ghost in the machine, a glitch that only I could hear."He's lying to you," the boy whispered. "Look at his hands, Hazel. Really look."I stared at Bryan’s hands. They were strong and scarred from years of fighting. But as I watched, the skin on his knuckle