All Chapters of Ex-Husbands, I'm Back: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Mirabel gripped the steering wheel of her Mercedes-Benz as it glided down the motorway. The cityscape of Silver City unfolded around her, and the late afternoon sun hovered above. She drove past numerous towering buildings, and the road junctions bustled with the occasional honk from impatient drivers. Mirabel sighed, her perfectly manicured fingers tapping a rhythm on the steering wheel. She glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard, and it was 4:45 PM. Traffic was only getting worse. She adjusted her sunglasses, reached forward, and turned up the car radio, hoping to find something to distract her from the monotony of traffic. The smooth voice of a radio announcer filled the car. "And in today’s shocking news, there are rumours flying about that Elysium Couture might be suing the Thompsons for intellectual property theft. The fashion industry is abuzz with this scandal, as it is revealed that designs stolen from Elysium Couture were presented as originals by the Thompson

Lyra stepped into her apartment, the weight of the busy day at the office pressing heavily on her shoulders.She tossed her keys onto the center table and made her way to the rear of the living room, where the couch was, collapsing on it with a weary sigh. Just as she closed her eyes to savor a moment of rest, her phone beeped, signaling an incoming message.She reached for her phone after pulling her bag off her shoulder tiredly. Her movements were still slow until she saw the message was from an unknown number.The contents instantly made her heart skip.“Lyra, you need to come quickly. It’s an emergency. Dante is in trouble. Please, hurry! Address: 45 Morningside Road.”Her pulse quickened, and a shadow of foreboding dimmed her eyes. She sprang up from the sofa; her fatigue disappeared at once, replaced by sheer panic. She abandoned her handbag on the sofa and dashed for the door, locking it up hastily before sprinting towards the elevator.As the elevator descended from top to

Dante sat next to his study desk, his eyes fixed on his phone. He dialed Lyra’s number again, waiting anxiously as it rang. Once, twice, and three times, each ring echos in the silent room. After five rings, the call went to voicemail. He let out a frustrated sigh, his mind racing with questions."Please pick up the phone, Lyra." He muttered quietly, pushing the phone aside as he stood up to start pacing the room. The last judgmental image he had of her, coupled with the unanswered calls so far, was only adding to his confusion and frustration.He debated going to her apartment, but the thought of facing her without answers held him back. His mind wandered back to that night. What exactly had happened? His thoughts spiraled, imagining the worst. Had he really slept with Amara? But How?The memory was hazy and fragmented. How had it come to this? He reasoned, his mind a whirlwind of doubt. The last thing he remembered was sitting in a hall with Mirabel. Amara was so much farther a

Lyra drove towards Philly April’s café with a blank expression, even though her heart was aching with curiosity.Felix had called earlier to promise his sincere apologies, and more importantly, he had claimed that he was ready to make some significant confessions, but she remained skeptical.She wondered if this was another one of his ploys, but that would not be a problem because she was ready to go any length to force the truth out of him, particularly the real truth about Aria's involvement in all of this.As greatly as she would have wished never to see or talk with Felix, her determination to uncover the truth pushed her forward.As she parked her car and approached the café, she steeled herself for the confrontation.The café was quiet, and the afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the cozy interior. Lyra spotted Felix immediately. He sat at a secluded table, his posture slumped, and his head tilted downward. His guilty, cowering look only fueled her anger.“I just hope this isn

Dante stepped out of the gleaming glass doors of his office building. It was past 6 p.m. already, and the late evening sun hovered above the sky, ready to start receding.The usual hum of traffic and distant chatter filled the air, but something felt off. As he approached his car in the open parking lot, he noticed the front tires looked slightly deflated, and fresh scratches marred the previously pristine rims.He stopped a few steps from the car, hanging his hands on his waist.“What the hell?” He muttered, crouching to inspect the damage. Everything had been in perfect shape when he parked this morning. A sense of unease settled in his chest. Who would tamper with his car, and why?He looked around the fenced expanse for a moment but couldn’t find anyone close by.In helpless resignation, he climbed into the car and drove off slowly.In a few minutes, he managed to totter the vehicle to a nearby repair shop, less than five miles away from his office headquarters, carefully maneuve