Todos los capítulos de The Billionaire’s Dead Wife Returned: Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

Chapter Twenty One Sara That Night. The party had been loud enough to make my head ache. I had spent the whole day going from firing some of the assholes at Damian’s company, then I went and sprayed his car, pink I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees it, now here I was dancing with strangers, in a private section at this club. Eventually, I excused myself and headed toward the bathroom. I washed my hands and stared at my reflection. My eyes were already glassy. I took a deep breath. I needed to go home. I opened the bathroom door and froze. Victor stood outside. His lips curved into a slow smile. “Hello, Sara.” My blood ran cold. “What are you doing here?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he glanced toward the end of the hallway. I followed his gaze. One of Damian’s guards stood there. Victor walked toward him. “Cut the cameras covering this area.” The guard hesitated and Victor pulled something from his pocket and handed it to him. “Now.” The guard nodded and

Chapter 23 SaraThree years agoThe first thing I learned about being married to Damian Blackwood was that a person could live in the same house as someone and still feel completely alone.Our marriage had barely begun, yet I already knew his routine better than he knew mine. He left early. He came home late. Sometimes he didn’t come home at all.And when he did, there was always an excuse. A board meeting. A business dinner. A flight he hadn’t mentioned.Another problem at Blackwood Industries that apparently couldn’t wait until morning. I had stopped asking when he’d be home. I simply waited.That afternoon, I sat at the dining table with a cup of tea growing cold between my hands.The dinner Olga had prepared was untouched.Again.I picked up my phone and stared at Izzy’s name before finally calling.She answered on the fourth ring. “Tell me you’re not waiting for him again.”I frowned.“How did you know?”“Because you sound miserable.”“I’m not miserable.”“Sara.”I sighe

Chapter Twenty FiveDamianThe leather of the heavy bag groaned under the brutal, rhythmic impact of my knuckles. Sweat slicked my bare chest, stinging the raw, torn skin of my hands where the wraps had unraveled. I didn’t care. The physical pain was a dull hum compared to the roaring cage match inside my mind.Left hook. Right cross. Overhand.I didn't give a damn that my uncle was dead. I hated the bastard. But being framed for his murder? That was a different story. Sara had wrapped the crime in a neat bow and slapped my name on the shipping label. She refused to tell me how she killed him, or exactly what role Adrian played in covering it up. All I knew was that man being by her side was not good for her."You're going to break your wrists if you keep punching like that boss.”I didn’t stop. I threw a devastating jab that sent the hundred-pound bag swinging wildly. "Did anyone follow you, Marcus?"Marcus was dressed in a grey tracksuit to blend into the private, late-night boxing

Chapter Twenty SevenSaraTwo weeks. It had been fourteen agonizing days since the midnight I stood on the balcony, feeling Damian’s breath ghosting over my skin, threatening to unravel every single wall I had spent three years building.I swallowed another white oblong pill, washing it down with lukewarm water. The police reports were filed, the board had effectively sidelined him, and the nightmares of that bloody night at the club were slowly losing their razor-sharp edges. I was forgetting the feel of the weapon in my hand. I was forgetting the heat of the blood. But my mind still refused to sleep without chemical help.What I couldn't get out of my head, though, was that exact night two weeks ago. I had heard his Audi pull into the driveway at ten in the evening. And then, not twenty minutes later, I heard the engine roar back to life. He had left again. In the dead of night. Where the hell did he go?Ever since I forced him to step down, he barely showed his face at Blackwood in

Chapter Twenty NineSaraThe drive back to the house was a blur of passing streetlights and suffocating silence. I kept my face pressed against the passenger window, my fingers tightly gripping the leather of my coat as I forced my breathing into a mechanical rhythm. In for four, hold for four, out for four. I refused to break down in his car. I refused to let him see the terrifying cracks the girl from the club had just punched into my armor.The moment the Audi pulled into the driveway, I threw the door open and hurried inside, desperate for the isolation of my room. But my knees were still trembling, and the cold air of the house did nothing to stop the phantom tightness in my throat.I made it as far as the living room couch before my legs completely gave out.Damian walked in right behind me, throwing his car keys onto the marble console with a heavy thud. He didn't mock me. He didn't gloat about the fact that I had just fallen apart in his club. Instead, he stepped into the kitc