Alle Kapitel von MY EX-HUSBAND IS ALIVE AND WANTS ME BACK : Kapitel 11 – Kapitel 20

The photo hit the internet at 11:47 a.m.Alessia knew the exact time because Sienna told her, storming into her office without knocking, phone already thrust out in front of her like a weapon."Look at this," Sienna said. "Look at this and tell me how this happened in under two hours."The image was grainy, shot from across the street through the Bellamy Atelier lobby windows — Nikolia, unmistakable even at that angle, striding through the front doors like he owned the building. The headline beneath it didn't bother with subtlety: SINCLAIR CHAIRMAN RISES FROM THE DEAD — FIVE YEARS AFTER FATAL EXPLOSION, BILLIONAIRE SPOTTED ALIVE AT EX-WIFE'S FIRM."Oh my god." Alessia sank into her chair, staring at her own name three paragraphs down, already misquoted, already reduced to *the architect ex-wife.*"It gets worse." Sienna scrolled. "It's not just one outlet. It's everywhere. Twenty minutes after the first post, it was on four more sites. Now it's — " she checked the screen again, jaw ti

Julian chose the coffee shop three blocks from Bellamy Atelier, the kind of place with no valet, no doorman, nothing that would draw attention from the reporters still camped outside both their usual haunts. He was already seated when Alessia arrived, hands wrapped around a mug he clearly wasn't drinking from, and the sight of him stopped her for a moment in the doorway.She had known Julian for a decade. She had never seen him look like this — hollowed out, unshaven, dark circles carved deep enough beneath his eyes that they looked less like exhaustion and more like something permanent."You look terrible," she said, sliding into the seat across from him."Thank you." His mouth twitched, not quite a smile. "You look like you haven't slept either.""I haven't. There are reporters on my lawn.""I heard." He wrapped both hands tighter around the mug. "I'm sorry. For all of it. I know that doesn't mean much right now.""It means something." She studied him, the way his eyes wouldn't quit

"Julian." Nikolia's voice, low and sharp, cut across the coffee shop as he stepped back inside, phone already slipping into his pocket. "What did you just say?"Julian said nothing. His mouth opened, closed again, no sound coming out."Julian." Nikolia crossed the small space between them in three strides, his composure fraying at the edges for the first time since he'd walked back into the shop. "What did you tell her?""Nothing he shouldn't have," Alessia said, standing, her voice steadier than she felt. "He told me to ask you about the pilot. So I'm asking.""This isn't the place.""It's never the place, Nikolia. There's never a place, never a time, never a room private enough for you to actually tell me anything." She kept her eyes on him, refusing to let the old instinct to back down win out over five years of exhausted patience. "What happened to Marcus Wren's flight plan? Julian said it changed at the last minute. He said someone leaked it."Nikolia's jaw tightened. He glanced

The kitchen had gone very quiet.Alessia stood frozen by the counter, the words still hanging in the air between them. *He died because someone was trying to kill me.* She'd known, in some buried, unspoken part of herself, that the explosion hadn't been an accident. Hearing it confirmed out loud was still a different thing entirely from suspecting it in the dark."Who?" she finally managed. "Who was trying to kill you?"Nikolia didn't answer right away. He pulled out a chair now, slowly, and sat, the fight seeming to drain out of him all at once now that the worst of it was finally spoken."Nikolia.""I have suspicions.""Suspicions aren't a name.""No." He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion carved into every line of it. "They're not.""Five years, Nikolia. Five years of hiding, of letting your own family bury you, of a pilot's children growing up without their father, and you're telling me you still don't know who's responsible?""I know pieces." His voice was low, careful, each

The Sinclair estate looked exactly as Alessia remembered it — cold, immaculate, every surface polished to a shine that made the whole place feel less like a home and more like a museum built to a dead man's taste. Viktor's study hadn't changed either. Dark wood, heavy curtains, a fireplace that burned even in the mild afternoon warmth, as though Viktor needed the room to look like it belonged to a colder century than the one it actually occupied."Ms. Bellamy." Viktor rose from behind his desk as she entered, offering nothing so warm as a smile. "Thank you for coming alone.""You made it clear that was the condition." Alessia didn't sit when he gestured to the chair across from him. "I'd like to know what this is about before I get comfortable.""Straight to business. I appreciate that." Viktor lowered himself back into his chair, folding his hands atop the desk with the particular composure of a man accustomed to controlling every room he entered. "I'll be direct, then. I'd like to p