All Chapters of Untouched for Three Years: Leaving My Billionaire Husband and Return the Pool: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

“No!”That single word cut through the air in the corridor.Devan’s voice was not particularly loud, yet it carried with the cold authority of a man accustomed to ending discussions.“No. Caroline Thorne is not my wife,” he stated.The cameras went still for half a second.Then the flashes exploded.Caroline’s fingers stiffened on Devan’s arm. He lifted her hand from his arm and released her with controlled precision. For a moment, her hand remained suspended between them before she slowly lowered it to her side.The delicate smile on her lips faded. She subtly shifted from close by his side, forming a discernible space between them.“Devan…?”Her voice was soft enough to suggest shock rather than protest, but the reporters had already heard what they needed. They sensed a story, perhaps even a hint of scandal. The questions followed, fast and demanding.“Mr Kensington, are you saying Coach Miller was mistaken?”“Miss Thorne, why didn’t you correct him?”“You just referred to your pri

Devan was already moving before the man finished calling for medics.He crossed the hall in long, rapid strides and pushed through the doors. The controlled executive who had stood in front of the cameras only a short while earlier disappeared so quickly, that several officials turned to watch him.Miller rose with a curse under his breath.Through the open doors, Romy could see Caroline surrounded by reporters and security staff. The gold sponsorship plaque lay on the floor beside her. One assistant knelt at her shoulder cradling her head, while another tried to force the cameras and microphones back.“Move!”The single command reverberated through the corridor. Reporters stepped back as Devan’s security team cleared a path.He dropped to one knee beside Caroline and called her name. When she didn’t respond, the last of his public composure vanished.“Get the car to the side entrance,” he ordered. “Call my private hospital and tell them we are on the way.”He slid one arm beneath Car

The directory beside the main lifts at St Mary’s offered Romy two very different destinations.A familiar blue line listed Reproductive Medicine on the fifth floor. Romy had pressed that button so many times that her hand almost rose before she caught herself. A silver line marked the Performance Medicine Unit, on the third.She pressed three.The corridor smelled of disinfectant rather than chlorine, but the walls were covered with photographs of runners, cyclists, and swimmers caught at the instant that effort stripped every expression down to truth. There were no family portraits here. No smiling babies in silver frames. The bodies displayed along these walls were measured by speed, endurance, and the work they could survive.Liam was waiting outside the assessment rooms with a thick black folder tucked beneath one arm.He wore gray training clothes and the national team jacket. A coach’s whistle hung at his chest, though there would be no need for it in the hospital. The sight of

The aquatic center belonged to swimmers before seven in the morning.At that hour, there were no reporters in the viewing gallery and no sponsor banners being adjusted for cameras. There was only the slap of water against tiles, the metallic echo of a starting block, and the chlorine-heavy air that settled deep into the lungs.Romy entered through the athletes’ corridor with her medical folder beneath one arm.Caroline was already there.She sat in the poolside hospitality area beneath a stylish coat, one leg crossed over the other. Her hair had been blow-dried smooth, and her complexion carried none of the gray exhaustion seen in yesterday’s photographs. She was holding one hand up beneath the overhead light to study a fresh pearl-colored manicure while an assistant placed a glass of cucumber water beside her.The hospital wrap, the wheelchair, and the trembling gratitude had disappeared overnight.A man stood beside her.He was in his late forties, tall and spare, dressed in a charc

Caroline's official observer badge was the last thing to disappear through the glass doors.Her uncle left first, carrying his official folio beneath one arm. Caroline followed with her assistant at her shoulder, moving with the easy grace of a woman who no longer needed a wheelchair or anyone's supporting hand beneath her elbow. The association representative gathered up the disputed proposal, and also headed away.Devon's communications director answered a call before he had even reached the exit.Devon was beside him. His phone was also already at his ear, and the clipped phrases that followed him out included ‘emergency meeting’, ‘Thorne Group’, and ‘joint sponsor agreement’.Romy didn’t wait to hear the rest. Before the doors had closed, she was walking toward the changing rooms with her training bag slung over one shoulder.Nine minutes later, she returned poolside in a plain black racing suit. Her hair was secured beneath a cap, her goggles rested against her forehead, and the