All Chapters of I Came Back To Make my Ex-Husband Pay: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Mariah Bedford landed at ten past four on Saturday evening, ignored every instruction her father had given her, and was standing in Cassian’s kitchen by seven with a bag of kale chips. She hadn’t told Cassian she was coming to his apartment. She knew she had told him she’d sort herself out, but she thought it would be a lovely surprise if she just showed up out of nowhere.“Your doorman thinks I am your sister,” she said as she arrived, setting the bag on the counter. “I told him we were separated at birth. He was very moved.”Cassian stared at her incredulously, wondering what the hell she was doing in his apartment.“Mariah.”“Oh, Cassian, at least act like you’re happy to see me. We could be married, you know.” She took off her sunglasses.They had known each other since they were nine. They had spent their entire childhood being pushed into the same rooms at the same parties by two fathers with the same plan: to unite their bloodlines permanently. But they had grown tired of the c

Seraphina put the navy suit in a designated laundry bag when she got home and zipped it up. Then she stood in the shower until the hot water ran cold. Afterwards, she sat at the kitchen counter in a gray sweater with a glass of water she had not touched and her phone facedown in front of her. She remembered how Marcus had called Julian fragile, and she grabbed her phone, her hands already flying across the screen to dial a number from memory. It rang four times. His voice came out gravelly on the other end of the line. Seraphina felt bad; he was probably asleep when she called. But she didn’t think she could wait till tomorrow to speak to him. He groaned, reminding her of the day. “It’s Sunday.” “I know, and I’m sorry, but listen…” “You don’t call on Sundays.” He interrupted her to ask, “What happened?” She took a sip of her water before she spoke. “I had lunch with Marcus Devereaux.” “You what? That was a terrible idea. Where did this happen?” “A place called the Har

Chapter 72“Josiah Moxfield is a dick.”Seraphina stopped so fast her heel skidded on the marble.Elias Bridge stood beside the water cooler outside the boardroom in his black overcoat, yellow legal pad under one arm, looking as harmless as a vicar. He was in his early eighties, and Seraphina hadn’t expected him to curse the way he just had.“I beg your pardon?”“You heard me.” He glanced down the empty corridor anyway. “He is also a sitting duck who has not done an honest day’s work since before you could drive, and he has the nerve to shit on yours.”Seraphina tried to fight the grin about to take over her face. “Elias.”“I am old, my dear. Not dead.” He flipped the pad around. Between three pages of notes on the Halden contract, he had drawn a fat duck in a crown, floating on a pond. Underneath, in careful block capitals: J. MOXFIELD, RESIDENT SITTING DUCK. “I think best when I doodle or draw. Is this what you deal with every time I miss a board meeting?”“Every time.” Her knees fe

Cassian arrived at her office at six, carrying dinner.He halted when he saw her. His gaze settled on her newly cut hair, the sharp line of the fresh bob framing her jaw.“You cut your hair.”Seraphina placed her hand under her new cut. “Oh really? I didn’t notice.”He smiled. “It suits you. You look amazing.”Seraphina flipped her hair in response, earning a laugh from him.He set the food on the table. “I brought dinner.”“How thoughtful of you.”“You didn’t really have a dental emergency, did you?”Seraphina shrugged in response. She was hungry, and for a few minutes, she concentrated on the food rather than the day’s problems. Cassian seemed equally content to eat without discussing work.It didn’t last.“Marcus intervened this morning,” he said.She put down her fork. “About what?”“The Milbrook agreement.”She narrowed her eyes, giving him her full attention.“He wants the transit fee reduced from forty thousand dollars per train to a third of that. He’s also insisting that ever

Cassian entered his father’s office and found Marcus standing beside the window, his hands in his trouser pockets.“Close the door,” Marcus Devereaux ordered.Cassian did, then placed his phone on the desk. “You wanted to see me?”Marcus returned to his chair but didn’t invite him to sit.“I want to talk about your involvement with Milbrook.”“What about it?”“Your judgement.”Cassian remained standing.Marcus sat down and opened the folder on his desk. The first page was the capacity proposal Cassian had presented to the board that morning.“You put forward a contract worth eighteen million dollars a year, with the first payment due on signing. You argued that Devereaux should commit to a fixed monthly fee for priority access to infrastructure in which we already own half the interest.”“Because our trains are already using that infrastructure, and the current arrangement isn’t giving us the access or reliability we need.”“That is a commercial argument. I’m asking about your judgeme