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CHAPTER 251
Last Updated:
2024-10-23 22:27:20
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MY POSSESSIVE BILLIONAIRE EX-HUSBAND CHAPTER 252
Today was the day I would be filming my first major scene with Stella. I knew it was going to be intense—our characters were set to have a confrontation that would shake the foundation of the storyline. But part of me was looking forward to it. After all, this was my chance to really prove myself.Kim was waiting for me outside the makeup trailer, holding a coffee and going over the day’s schedule. “First filiming day today, Ms. Marga,” she said, handing me the cup. “First scene would be with Stella. How are you feeling?”I smiled, taking a sip. “Nervous to be honest but ready. I’ve reread the script and It’s going to be intense.”Kim nodded. “The director mentioned it’s one of the pivotal scenes of the movie, so all eyes will be on this one. But you’ve got this, Ms. Marga.”I headed into the trailer to get my hair and makeup done, and as I sat in the chair, I couldn’t help but go over the script in my head. The scene was raw. Vivian—Stella’s character—was supposed to slap my charac
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The days on set went on and each one more exhausting than the last. Those scenes that I had with Stella grew more intense, more emotionally charged, and while I gave my best, something just gradually falling off. The director seemed to be noticing Stella more and more, praising her performance at every turn while leaving me in my own starred movie to be behind the spotlight. I couldn’t help but overhear their murmured conversations between takes, and it was impossible to ignore the growing feeling of jealousy on my end.I mean why won’t I feel like it when I should be the one they’re praising? This was supposed to be my movie? Not that I was being self-centered but I was also working so hard. In the end, I tried to channel all my frustration to working my best because I knew that nothing would result to this if I wouldn’t work hard.By the time I finished for the day, I was drained, both physically and mentally. I retreated to my trailer, shutting the door behind me and sinking into t
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The days on set felt lighter, as if Ms. Carrington’s words had somehow peeled away the weight of what I’d been carrying. Somehow, I felt like I was free—more free and more connected to my character.Recently, I was able to let my fears and insecurities show through in subtle moments. During one particularly emotional scene, the director actually stopped midway and I thought he’d reprimand me or something, but I was wrong, he actually praised me instead.“That’s it, Margarette!” he called out, his voice brimming with excitement. “That’s exactly the energy we’re looking for. Keep that up, ‘kay?”What the director just said might sound as a small thing, but it surely felt like winning from a lottery that I couldn’t help but smile.. As soon as we wrapped up for the day, I made a beeline for my trailer, unable to contain my excitement. Kim was already there, flipping through some notes on her tablet.“Hey, Kim, you’ll never guess what just happened!” I practically squealed, flopping down
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The days on set had become exhilarating, as if Ms. Carrington’s teachings had unlocked a overflowing river of creativity within me. Each scene felt like stepping into a new layer of my character I uncover, and I could feel myself standing out again, shining even better and no longer overshadowed by my co-stars. Even the production crew and the director who keep praising me every time we wrapped up noticed it too, and with the director even murmuring to his assistant, “She’s really come into her own.” that made it to my knowledge because of Kim, simply motivated me more.It was the recognition I’d been yearning for ever since I began filming for this movie, and I was grateful to have met Ms. Carrington. With her tips that I simply followed, I was able to achieve the outcome of my performance for this film. And by the end of almost a year of filming, we were down to our final scenes, and the director, looking both pleased and weary, announced we’d wrap up early to return tomorrow, rest
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As I lay in bed, a mix of regret and exhaustion weighing me down, what Kim told me just left me with anxiety. And as I was about to ask her for solution, a soft knock interrupted me and caused me to look toward the door opening, and there was William, holding Lucas. I instantly saw how relief seemed to have flickered in his expression, but he remained quiet, allowing Lucas to be the first to react.“Mommy!” Lucas wiggled in William’s arms, his reaction was so obvious he was desperate to get down. And the moment William released Lucas, his little feet touched the floor and rushed toward me. I had to quickly sit up as I got scared he might trip, but his small hands quickly reached the bed as he climbed up and threw his arms around my neck. “Mommy, play?” he asked, his voice hopeful as he grinned up at me.Despite everything that had happened, I couldn’t help but smile at him. “Soon, sweetheart. Mommy needs to talk with Uncle William for a bit, okay?” He looked at me with a pout but eve
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I sat on the edge of my bed, staring down at my hands as William’s suggestion hung in the air between us. The practical side of me knew he was right: that his idea could save my image from the scandal. But it felt as if something intangible was pressing against me, keeping me from agreeing outright. Pretending to be with William to save my reputation felt like a betrayal towards Leon somehow.Seeing my hesitation, William pulled a chair close and sat down, leaning forward so that he was right at my level. “Margarette, I get it,” he said quietly, his voice gentle. “You don’t have to feel bad about considering this. It’s just a cover up. I know what Leon meant to you, and I’d never ask you to forget that.”I looked up, taken aback by his words. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…well, I just… I feel like I’d be crossing a line,” I admitted, trying to put into words the unease gnawing at me. “Even if it’s just for show, I don’t want anyone to think I’ve moved on from Leon so quickly. I don’t even
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AFTER A FEW DAYS, William was able to arrange a press conference as how he promised me. And this conference was intended for me to be able to clear out my name from that scandal that was completely and obviously a frame up to defame me.The press conference felt like a storm waiting to break. I stood backstage, heart pounding, knowing that the world outside was ready to dissect every word, every glance, every detail William and I gave them. William had arranged this meeting to set the record straight, but I was painfully aware of the risks involved. One slip, one inconsistency, and the tabloids would be running wild with stories for months.And as everything begin, William was beside me, calm and collected as always. He gave me a reassuring nod. “Remember, we’re here to clear this up, nothing more. They’ll push, but I’ll handle it if things go too far.”I took a deep breath, nodding back. “Thank you, William. I don’t know if I could face this without your help.”“Anytime, Margarette,”
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The press conference had certainly done its job, and for a while, things calmed down. The tabloids moved on to new stories, and my scandal was reduced to old news. I focused on work, throwing myself into my upcoming projects and grateful that the movie’s production team had stayed behind me. It felt like things were finally slipping back into normalcy, though the idea of a “relationship” with William lingered in the background.A week after the press conference, William and I agreed to meet at a quiet cafe to catch up and talk about our progress. Despite everything, William and I had managed to keep things comfortable. He was good company, and his calm presence was a relief. But I couldn’t deny that pretending to date him left a strange feeling that I couldn’t shake.When I walked in, William was already at a corner table, sipping coffee and reading something on his phone. He looked up, smiling warmly as he saw me.“Margarette, it’s good to see you. How’s everything on your end?”“Bus
Last Updated : 2024-10-30
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The days that followed were a whirlwind of chaos.My father’s downfall was splashed across every news outlet. Financial crimes, money laundering, illegal dealings—his empire was collapsing, and with it, his reputation. His allies abandoned him one by one, choosing self-preservation over loyalty.But he wasn’t the kind of man to go down without a fight.That’s why I wasn’t surprised when I received the message.A single text.Suite 1103. One last talk. Come alone.Leon was furious. “Absolutely not.”I expected that reaction. I also knew there was no changing my mind.“Leon, this is my fight. My ending to write.”His eyes darkened. “He’s cornered, Margarette. That makes him more dangerous than ever.”I reached for his hand, squeezing it. “I’ll be fine.”He exhaled sharply. “I don’t trust him.”I smiled softly. “Good. Neither do I.”The Last Conversation—AgainSuite 1103 was dimly lit when I walked in. My father sat by the window, a drink in his hand, staring out at the city he once rule
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We had expected my father to retaliate, but I knew he wouldn’t be careless. No, he’d take his time. He’d make sure his counterattack hurt.Which meant we had to strike first.Leon was already making calls before I even had to say anything. His contacts, his men—every piece of leverage we had was being mobilized.Victor paced across the penthouse, his expression tense. “Margarette, I don’t think you understand how much you just provoked him.”I crossed my arms. “Oh, I understand, Victor. That’s the point.”Leon smirked at my words, but his eyes were sharp as he cut in. “We need to draw him out. He’s not going to sit back and lick his wounds. He’s going to come for you.”Victor sighed. “And you’re just waiting for that to happen?”I walked over to the window, watching the city below. “No.” My voice was calm. “We’re leading him exactly where we want.”Victor ran a hand through his hair. “And where is that, exactly?”Leon leaned against the counter, his voice casual but firm. “A place whe
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Dorian was right. My father wasn’t sitting idle. He was moving his pieces, fortifying his position before I could strike.But he underestimated me.By morning, I was already on the phone, making calls, pulling in every favor I had left. I wasn’t just going to fight him—I was going to destroy him.Leon watched me from across the kitchen, leaning against the counter, sipping his coffee. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and despite the weight of everything we were up against, he looked completely composed.It irritated me.“Do you ever worry?” I muttered, ending a call and tossing my phone on the counter.Leon smirked. “Constantly.”I gave him a look. “You don’t seem worried.”He set his mug down and closed the distance between us. “Because I don’t show it the way you do.”I exhaled. “I feel like we’re on the edge of something big. Like we’re one wrong move away from losing everything.”Leon tilted his head slightly, studying me. “Margarette.” His
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Leon didn’t speak much after that. The drive back was filled with nothing but the hum of the tires on the road and the unspoken weight between us. I wanted to say something—anything—to make him look at me the way he used to. But I knew this wasn’t the time.When we pulled into the underground parking lot of our penthouse, Leon shut off the engine and exhaled through his nose. His hands remained on the wheel, knuckles white.I unbuckled my seatbelt. “Leon—”He turned to me, his eyes dark and unreadable. “You just declared war on your father, Margarette.”I swallowed. “You think I don’t know that?”“That’s the problem.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “This isn’t just about exposing his corruption. Harlan Westwood isn’t the kind of man who forgives betrayal. And you just put a target on your back.”I clenched my jaw. “I’ve had a target on my back ever since I decided to take back what’s mine.”Leon let out a humorless laugh. “And you think he’s just going to let you?”I reac
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The night was deceptively peaceful. The city lights stretched far beyond the penthouse windows, illuminating a world that had no idea of the chaos brewing beneath the surface.Leon stood by the window, his sleeves rolled up, his jaw clenched in quiet contemplation. He hadn’t said much since our meeting at the club.I knew why.We had allies now, but it wasn’t enough.We needed more.“Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours,” I said, stepping closer.Leon’s fingers tightened around the glass in his hand. “There’s a war coming, Margarette. And I don’t know if I can keep you safe through it.”I scoffed. “You’re still underestimating me?”His jaw ticked. “No. I just—” He exhaled sharply, turning to face me. “I can’t lose you.”The words hit harder than they should have.I swallowed, pushing down the sudden rush of emotion. “Then don’t.”Leon studied me for a long moment, his eyes dark and unreadable. Then, before I could react, he pulled me flush against him, his lips capturing mine
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By the next morning, the fallout had already begun.Leon and I sat in his penthouse, reviewing the reports pouring in from our contacts. Calloway’s operation had taken a major hit—his Russian allies were furious, his supply lines were compromised, and his reputation was crumbling.But we both knew it wasn’t over.Calloway wouldn’t take this loss lying down.Leon’s fingers drummed against the table, his jaw tight. “He’ll retaliate.”I nodded. “It’s just a matter of when.”Leon’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, then answered with a clipped, “What?”A pause.Then his expression darkened.“When?” he demanded.Another pause.“Where is she now?”I sat up straighter, sensing the shift in his energy.Then Leon cursed under his breath and ended the call.“What happened?” I asked.He stood, already grabbing his keys. “Alexa was taken.”My blood ran cold. “By Calloway?”Leon’s jaw clenched. “Looks like it.”I shot up from my seat. “Then let’s go get her.”Alexa’s location was traced to a
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The ride back to the penthouse was silent, tension thick in the air. Leon drove with one hand on the wheel, the other gripping his gun. His jaw was locked, his eyes dark.I knew that look.He was planning. Calculating.“Calloway just declared war,” I murmured, watching the city lights blur past the windshield.Leon exhaled sharply. “He did more than that. He underestimated us.”I studied his profile—the controlled rage simmering beneath his calm demeanor. He wasn’t just angry. He was ready to make a move.“We need to hit back,” I said.Leon’s grip tightened. “We will.”His phone buzzed. He glanced at it, then tossed it onto the dashboard. “My father.”“Answer it,” I urged.Leon let out a slow breath before pressing the call button. “Yeah?”His father’s voice was sharp. “I assume you’re still alive.”Leon smirked. “Disappointed?”A pause. Then, “Get to the estate. Now.”The line went dead.Leon exhaled through his nose, tossing his phone onto his lap. “That’s never a good sign.”I lean
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Days passed, but the unease in Leon hadn’t faded. He kept himself busy, making calls, arranging meetings, tightening security. I watched him closely, noting the way his shoulders carried an unseen weight. His father’s sudden reappearance had unsettled him more than he let on.One evening, as we lay in bed, I turned to him, brushing my fingers over his chest. “Leon, talk to me.”He exhaled, his arm tightening around me. “It’s nothing.”I propped myself up on my elbow, searching his face. “It’s not nothing. You’re restless. You barely sleep.”His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he would brush me off again. But then, he spoke.“When I was younger, my father used to tell me that in our world, loyalty is everything,” he said, his voice low. “But he also told me that loyalty is never free—it’s bought, traded, or forced.”I frowned. “You think he came back because he wants something from you?”Leon nodded. “My father has never been a man who does things without a reason. If he’s he
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The days following Leon’s proposal felt like a dream—soft, golden, and filled with an unshakable sense of peace. I caught myself staring at the ring on my finger more often than I cared to admit, the weight of it both grounding and exhilarating.We didn’t rush into planning the wedding. Instead, we let ourselves be, relishing in this new phase of our relationship. The world outside our home was still chaotic, filled with unfinished battles and uncertain futures, but in this—in us—there was certainty.One evening, as we lay tangled together on the couch, Leon traced patterns on my bare shoulder, his voice a low murmur against my skin. “Tell me something you’ve never told anyone.”I turned my head to look at him, our faces inches apart. “Something I’ve never told anyone?”He nodded. “Something real.”I swallowed, considering. There were so many pieces of me I’d kept hidden—fears, dreams, scars that hadn’t fully healed. But with Leon, there was no need for walls.“I used to be afraid of
