บททั้งหมดของ My Ex Fiancé wants be back, but my contract husband owns me: บทที่ 111 - บทที่ 120

Amelia's POVEthan’s building smelled like rain and old coffee. I was just sitting in their living room while him and Sam looked dumbfounded to find me in their home by this time of the night. Ethan. He was in a gray t-shirt and sweatpants, hair messy, and his face went from sleepy to alarmed in about two seconds. “Amelia?” Behind him, Sam appeared in the kitchen doorway, holding a mug. She took one look at me and the mug hit the counter with a clink. “What are you doing here?” Sam said. “You’re supposed to be on your honeymoon. You’re supposed to be... married and happy.” The word married felt like a bruise. “I need to stay here tonight,” I said. My voice sounded small. Ethan stepped aside immediately. He didn’t ask questions. He just took my bag and looked at Sam. “I’ll give you two space,” he said. Then to me, softer: “I’m glad you’re okay.” My throat closed. I nodded. He went to the bedroom and shut the door. Sam and I sat in the living room for a beat. Th

Asher’s POVI didn’t plan to go to the Sinclair Mansion. I drove. That’s all I remember. Out of the new house, past the office, past the bridge, and my hands just kept going until the gates were in front of me. The Sinclair Mansion. White stone. Eight columns. The driveway that always looked longer than it was. My family home. The place I hadn’t set foot in since the wedding. I parked and sat there for a minute. The engine ticking. When I got to the front door, it opened before I knocked. Mrs. Patel. She’s been with us since I was seven. “Mr. Asher,” she said, and her face did something complicated. Happy, sad, worried. “Your mother is in the drawing room.” “Thank you.” I could hear voices before I saw them. My mother’s laugh. Light. And another voice. Smoother. Hayley Williams. She was on the couch next to my mother, Nora, with a teacup in her hand. Pearls. Blonde bob. The kind of smile that never reached her eyes. They both looked up when I came in. “Asher!”

Amelia's POV The morning light came in pale through the windows. Asher and I were sitting on the floor again. Coffee in mugs, files spread around us like we were kids doing homework. “We should call Esme,” I said. Asher looked up. He’d been rubbing his eyes. “She's dug deep enough into his past so she should be a belt to find out more for us.” He nodded slowly. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll call her.” He dialed. Put it on speaker. “Esme?” “Asher? It’s 7 AM.” Her voice was groggy. “I know. I’m sorry. Can you come over? It’s about Damien. And Carl Sinclair.” A pause. “I’ll be there in 20.” She was there in 18. Esme came in with her hair in a messy bun and no makeup and a look that said she hadn’t slept either. She took one look at both of us and sat down on the floor with us. We told her everything. The plane. The texts. Valerie in my office. Harold admitting Carl erased the pregnancy. Esme listened. She didn’t interrupt. When we finished, she was quiet for a long tim

Amelia's POVThe car ride home was too quiet.Asher’s hand rested on the gear shift, and mine was in my lap, fingers laced so tight my knuckles had gone white. Neither of us spoke. The city lights blurred past the window in long, orange streaks. Every time I blinked I saw it again. Devi Malhotra. Damien’s personal assistant. Smiling, efficient, always two steps behind him with a tablet and a pen. And all this time, she was the one sending us the messages. The informat. The unknown sender. It didn’t make sense. It made too much sense. We pulled into the driveway and the house was dark except for the porch light Asher must have left on. I got out and the cold hit me immediately. Some nights can be warm, but tonight the air felt thin. Inside, I kicked off my shoes and just stood there in the living room. Asher closed the door behind us. The sound was soft. Final. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep pacing,” he said. His voice was low. Careful. I hadn’t realized I w

Amelia’s POVThe tea house door shut behind Priya and Dashaun, and the sound was too loud. Rain. That was all I could hear for a second. Rain hitting the awning outside. Then Asher’s breathing next to me. Then my own heart, stupid and fast in my chest. “Wait,” I said, and my voice came out rough. “Wait. We’re not done.”Asher turned to me. “Mel—”“No.” I stood up. My chair scraped against the floor. “I need clarification. On all of it. Because none of this makes sense.”The back door opened again. Dashaun stepped back in. Alone. Priya wasn’t with him. His jacket was damp, water dripping from the hem. He looked at me, then at Asher, and sighed like he’d been expecting this. “You didn’t think we’d let you leave with half a story,” he said. He pulled out the chair Priya had been sitting in and sat back down. “Ask.”I sat too. My hands were shaking. I pressed them flat against the cold wood of the table. “Valerie,” I said. “Start with Valerie. Because none of it yet makes any sense.”