All Chapters of My Ex Fiancé wants be back, but my contract husband owns me: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Asher’s POVThe hospital smells like antiseptic and fear.I’ve been here before. Too many times in the last three days. Darcy is sitting up in bed when I walk in. She looks better. Color’s back in her face. The bruises are fading. But her eyes are still that same hollow, scared thing they’ve been since Killian’s men grabbed her outside my office.“Asher,” she says the second she sees me. “Any news?”I sit in the chair next to her bed. Jordan stays by the door. “We found something,” I say. “We’re close. Today, at most. We’re going to get her back today.”Darcy’s breath catches. “You promise?”“I promise,” I say. And I mean it. Even if I have to burn the whole island down to do it. “Don’t worry, okay? We’ve got people on it. We’ve got a plan.”She nods and reaches for my hand. Her fingers are cold. “Thank you. For not giving up on her.”“Never,” I say.We talk for ten more minutes. About nothing. About her mom. About the soup the nurses keep bringing her. I lie and tell her to rest.

Amelia's POVPain wakes me up first. Then the smell. Antiseptic. Flowers. Coffee. Then a hand in mine. Warm. Real. My eyes open slowly and the ceiling is white. Not wood paneling. Not the dark of that room. Hospital white. “Asher?”He’s there before I finish saying his name. “I’m here,” he says. His voice breaks. “I’m right here.”He leans down and kisses my forehead, my cheek, my hand. Like he can’t decide where to touch me first. “You’re okay,” he whispers. “You’re okay, Amelia. God, you’re okay.”I try to sit up and the pain in my leg reminds me. Gunshot. The dock. Blood. I suck in a breath. “The bullet—”“Gone,” Asher says quickly. “Killian took it out. Cleaned it. Stitched you. You’re going to be fine. You just need rest.”I look around. Machines beeping. IV in my arm. Blankets that actually feel clean. I’m back. I start crying. I don’t mean to. But the relief hits me all at once and I can’t stop. Asher is immediately there, pulling me into him as much as the bed allow

Amelia's POV The call ends and the room goes dead quiet.Asher sets the phone down slowly. Like if he moves too fast it’ll shatter.“Stunned” isn’t the right word. “Hollow” is closer. Mrs. Halder is dead. Mrs. Priya is missing. Two women. Two witnesses. Gone right after we talked to them.“Thank you, Esme,” Asher says into the dead phone. Then he looks at me. I can’t speak. Asher runs a hand through his hair. “Maybe that’s why Valerie and her husband is back.”I blink. “What?”“Valerie and Lester,” he says. “Damien’s parents. My sister and her husband.”Right. They were at the house. Smiling. Pretending everything was normal.Asher stands and starts pacing. “They’re here to tie up loose ends. Damien’s loose ends. If we don’t move fast, they’ll burn every piece of evidence. Every witness. Every paper trail.”My stomach twists. “You think they’re involved?”“I think they’ve been involved for all these years, since the very beginning,” he says. “And I think they’re scared we’re getti

Amelia’s POVTwo weeks. That’s what Asher said in the garden. _Two weeks._ I thought he meant it as a suggestion. Like “let’s think about it.” But Asher doesn’t do suggestions. He does decisions. The next morning Darcy was at the door at 8AM with fabric swatches and a binder that said _AMELIA & ASHER_ in gold foil. “Did he tell you?” she asked, already kicking off her shoes. “Because I already booked the florist. And the string quartet. And I told the caterer no shellfish because of your allergy.” I was still in pajamas. My leg was still wrapped. “Two weeks,” I said. “Two weeks,” she said, like that was plenty of time. “We can do this.” And somehow, we did. The house changed overnight. Tables appeared. Measuring tapes. Pinterest boards printed out and taped to the wall. Sam showed up with a dress that wasn’t white because I said I didn’t want white. It was soft blush, simple, with sleeves that covered the bruises on my arms that were finally fading. “It’s healing

Asher's POVThe door clicks behind us. Amelia is pale. She’s holding herself like she might break if someone breathes too hard. I put my hand on the small of her back. Not pushing. Just there. Arjun closes the door to Interview Room 3 and exhales. Long. “Well,” he says. We’re in the hallway now. Fluorescent lights buzzing. Somewhere down the hall a phone is ringing. “I believe him,” Arjun says. The words land heavy. I stop walking. “You believe him?” “Yeah,” Arjun says. He rubs the back of his neck. “Not all of it. The part where he’s innocent? No. But the part about Damien? Yeah. I do.” Amelia looks between us. “I don’t even know what to believe,” she says quietly. “I don’t remember enough to know if he’s lying. And I don’t want to believe it if it’s true.” “I know,” I say. I want to pull her into me. But not here. Not now. Arjun leans against the wall. “Look. If Damien did everything they just told us — the island, the shell company, the drugs, the paperwork