All Chapters of Marrying the Tyrant: You Will Regret Killing Me, Ex-Husband!: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Lily’s POV.Vance Global was bleeding out in slow motion.By midday, the New York Stock Exchange had officially halted trading on Vance Global shares as they plummeted, staggering past a seventy-percent loss. The massive glass headquarters in Manhattan—once a gleaming monument to corporate invincibility—was now surrounded by satellite news vans, protesters holding placards, and federal agents carrying boxes of subpoenaed documents out of the lobby.Inside his executive suite on the forty-second floor, Richard sat alone in the dark.The smart-home automation system in his office had been completely locked down by our hackers hours ago. The motorized blinds were stuck halfway down, casting harsh, gray slants of afternoon light across his expensive wool rug. The air conditioning was dead, leaving the room stuffy, and although I wasn’t there, I could tell it smelled faintly of stale scotch and cold sweat.From this livestream feed, Richard didn't look like a CEO anymore. His tie was loos

Lily’s POVThe air inside the safe house felt lighter by morning, though the weight of the upcoming final move still hung heavy in the room.Before sunrise, the conference screens came to life. Eleanor Whitfield, Vayle and the other people I’d managed to have on my side dialed in from Manhattan, their faces tired but triumphant. We spent two intense hours reviewing Vance Global's internal metrics: the stock was stabilizing under interim emergency oversight, the forensic audits were locked and verified, and the corporate rot had been completely excised."The board is waiting for you, Lily," Eleanor reported, her voice steady and proud across the call. "The moment you walk back through those doors, Richard’s shares are legally forfeited under clause fourteen of the executive trust. He's finished.""And Frank?" I asked, leaning against the edge of the console."Nowhere to be found," Eleanor replied with a dry smile. "His cards are dead, his accounts are zeroed, and he's completely cut off

Lily’s POVBeep.Beep.The steady rhythm of the cardiac monitor beeped beside me, my eyelids heavily fluttering open to a white ceiling. Then, the sharp sting of antiseptic assaulted my nostrils.Hospital, I thought subconsciously. I’m in the hospital.My eyelids felt like they were made of lead. When I finally managed to force them open, the blinding daylight streaming through the private recovery room window made me wince, blinking against the glare."She's waking up."A deep familiar voice cut through the haze instantly, tone full of concern.Before I could even adjust my focus, a blur of motion filled my sight. Diego was there first, his large hands carefully cupping my face as if I were made of glass. His dark eyes were bloodshot, the predatory sharpness in them entirely stripped away, leaving only a raw, naked panic and overwhelming relief."Lily," he breathed, his voice cracking on my name. He pressed his forehead against mine, his chest heaving as he exhaled a breath he seem

Lily's POVThe morning sun poured through the ceiling-to-floor windows of my office on the forty-second floor, washing the room in a beautiful golden light.I stood before the full-length mirror, smoothing down the lapels of a tailored cream blazer—the first piece of clothing I had chosen in two years that wasn't built for stealth, defense, or to appeal to public opinion. My reflection looked steady, clear-eyed, and undeniably alive.My first official day back as the rightful CEO of Vance Global.For so long, this room had felt like a gilded cage constructed by Richard’s cold hands, a monument to a woman’s legacy stained by poison, greed, and betrayal. But walking through those double doors this morning had felt entirely different. The security guards at the lobby gates had greeted me with genuine warmth; the executive staff had met me in the halls with respectful, eager smiles; and Eleanor had already left a stack of restructured quarterly projections neatly centered on my desk.The

Lily’s POVThe afternoon sun filtered through the open doors of Wisteria Gardens, washing the living room in a warm, golden light that smelled of baking vanilla and wet pine.My birthday.Standing by the kitchen island with a mug of chamomile tea in hand, I let my gaze sweep across the room. There were no flashing cameras, no glittering ballroom chandeliers, and no sprawling corporate crowds unlike the other years. Just the people who mattered most to me.Over by the bookshelf, Nate was crouched down on the floor, dramatically whispering ghost stories to a giggling Maya, their daughter, while Simon leaned against the armchair, shaking his head with a fond, exasperated smile as he watched them.And right in the center of the plush rug sat our world.Leo was sprawled on his stomach with a plate of the cinnamon rolls I made earlier, loudly and very seriously negotiating the trade value of a frosted center with Maya."If you give me the middle piece, I will let you ride my wooden train t