Rebirth In Divorce: My New Mr. Perfect
Several black cars were parked just outside the gate.
Inside one of them, Steven sat upright in the passenger seat, eyes fixed on the front entrance of the house. He held a tablet in one hand, recording movement, tracking patterns, waiting for any chance to act.
Half an hour passed.
Then, finally, the gates opened.
Julian stepped out first.
Steven’s breath caught when he saw that all-too-familiar face.
His chest clenched.
Every nerve in his body screamed to follow, to act.
But deep down, he knew—charging in now wouldn’t change anything. He’d be outnumbered, outpowered.