Lahat ng Kabanata ng My Ex Fiancé wants be back, but my contract husband owns me: Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

Amelia’s POV My apartment door was ajar when Asher and I returned from his place. The sight hit me like a physical blow. The wooden frame showed faint scratches around the lock, and a thin sliver of light spilled out into the dim hallway like a warning. I stopped dead in my tracks, my keys suddenly heavy and useless in my hand. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I could feel it in my throat. Asher’s arm came around me instantly, firm and protective, pulling me behind him. “Stay here,” he said, his voice low and steady, the kind of calm that only made me realize how serious this was. He pushed the door open slowly with his foot, revealing the devastation inside. The living room was torn apart. Cushions from the sofa had been slashed open, white stuffing scattered across the floor like fallen snow. Drawers from my desk lay overturned, papers and old notebooks strewn everywhere. The wooden box containing Gran’s letters had been knocked over, envelopes scattered but thankfully int

Amelia’s POVThe neutral location Esme had chosen was a quiet café tucked away in a leafy residential neighborhood, far from the corporate glass towers and the watchful eyes of the Brooks building. Sunlight filtered through the lace curtains, casting delicate patterns on the wooden tables. Asher and I arrived a few minutes early, his hand warm and steady on the small of my back as we were led to a private corner booth. My nerves hummed beneath my skin—the break-in, the board meeting, the constant shadow of Damian but Asher’s presence grounded me, as always.Esme arrived precisely on time. She was a striking woman in her mid-forties, with sharp features, short silver-streaked dark hair, and an aura of quiet confidence that commanded the room without effort. Her partner, Morgan—a tall, broad-shouldered man with a calm, observant demeanor followed a step behind. Esme had a reputation I’d researched quickly: a former high-ranking detective who had left the force after a high-profile case

Amelia’s POVThe sound of the door opening behind me sent ice through my veins. I was still kneeling by the bottom drawer of Damian’s desk, papers clutched in my hands that revealed absolutely nothing incriminating. My heart hammered wildly as I forced myself to move slowly, deliberately, sliding the drawer shut with a soft click. I rose to my feet, smoothing down my blouse as if I had every right to be there, and turned to face him with what I hoped was a neutral expression.Damian stood in the doorway, his lean frame silhouetted against the hallway light. His hazel eyes narrowed the moment they landed on me, scanning the room with sharp suspicion. The faint smirk that usually played on his lips was gone, replaced by something darker—calculation mixed with irritation.“Amelia,” he drawled, stepping inside and closing the door behind him with a quiet click that felt far too final. “What exactly are you doing in my office?”I shrugged lightly, forcing my voice to remain calm and even.

Amelia’s POVWe walked past Ivy and Damian without a word.Asher’s hand stayed firm on the small of my back, guiding me up the wide stone steps of the Brooks estate. The evening air was cool against my skin, carrying the faint scent of trimmed hedges and expensive perfume from arriving guests. I kept my gaze straight ahead, refusing to give Ivy or Damian the satisfaction of eye contact. But I felt their stares, Ivy’s sharp and resentful, Damian’s heavy with that familiar mix of obsession and triumph. My emerald dress brushed against my legs with each step, the fabric suddenly feeling too constricting, like armor that might fail at any moment.The mansion doors stood open, warm golden light spilling out onto the driveway. Inside, the hostility hit me like a wave. The grand foyer and adjoining ballroom had been transformed for the evening with soft classical music playing in the background. But the atmosphere was anything but welcoming. Scarlett trailed closely behind Graham like a shad

Amelia’s POVI stormed into my office, the heavy wooden door slamming shut behind me with more force than I intended. The sound echoed through the room like a crack of thunder, matching the storm raging inside my chest. My hands were still trembling from the boardroom vote, the memory of all those hands rising in favor of Ivy and Damian’s ridiculous overseas branch proposal replaying in my mind like a nightmare I couldn’t wake from. How had they done it? How had they swayed the majority so quickly, so cleanly?Darcy followed me in quietly, closing the door with a soft click that felt painfully anticlimactic after my entrance. She set a fresh stack of files on my desk, her movements efficient but her eyes filled with concern behind her thin-rimmed glasses. “Amelia… are you okay?”I paced the length of my office, heels clicking sharply against the floor, my navy pantsuit suddenly feeling too tight, too constricting. “How did they pull it off, Darcy? I watched the room. I listened to eve