All Chapters of My Ex-Husband is Out of Control: Chapter 491 - Chapter 500

Elijah’s POVAs I watched Morgana carefully, I took note of every reaction—every emotion that crossed her face. Her surprise seemed genuine, but I couldn’t afford to be careless. After all, I’d learned long ago that my stepmother was a master at masking her true thoughts when it suited her.Morgana looked up, genuinely mortified. “Why would you think that, Elijah? What would Lennon have to do with that mob?” She leaned in, her tone laced with worry. “Isn’t that the same group responsible for so many crimes here and in France?”“Yes,” I replied sharply, feeling the weight of the topic pressing down on me. “They’ve caused… a lot of harm. And they’re responsible for the disappearance of…” I caught myself before I could say more, my gaze sliding to Jared, who was happily grinning and absorbed in his latest creation—a mountain sketched onto his napkin.I swallowed back the words, feeling Sophia’s gaze on me as well, her eyes widening with silent understanding. She knew exactly where my tho

Elijah’s POVAs we stepped out of the cafe and headed to the car, I was feeling the weight of everything we’d just discussed with Morgana. My mind was already calculating the best way to set up security for her cafe, running through names of trusted guards who could handle any threat.Just as I opened the car door to get the kids settled in, I noticed Sophia suddenly freeze. Her gaze was locked on someone in the distance, her eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and urgency.Before I could react, she broke into a sprint, calling out, “Wait!”A jolt of alarm shot through me. Who was she chasing? I quickly ushered the kids into the car. “Reese, watch out for Jared and Roxy. Stay here, alright? I’ll be back quickly.”She nodded, looking confused but responsible, as she pulled Jared and Roxy into the backseat. I shut the door and took off after Sophia, my heart pounding as I tried to catch up.I finally spotted her, standing just a few paces away from a woman who had turned around, meeting S

Chris’s POV“Is dinner almost ready?” Emily’s voice floated from the other room, sounding cheerful as she finished up tidying the house.“Almost,” I called back, stirring the stew simmering on the stovetop. “Just needs a few more minutes.”Life here in the small, remote village in the French Alps had been both a blessing and a challenge. Our stone cottage was modest but sturdy, its walls thick enough to keep out the biting cold of the high altitude. The village itself was tiny, no more than a cluster of houses dotting the mountainside, isolated from any major town. There was no cell reception, no internet, just us and the few villagers who lived their lives undisturbed by the outside world.As I stirred the stew, my thoughts drifted back to Sophia. Over the past year, I’d allowed myself to risk only one letter—one that I’d sent to her, hoping it would reach her without raising any alarms. It had been a gamble, and I hadn’t dared to send another since. The mob had eyes everywhere, and

Elijah’s POV“Mr. Sinclair, we’re ready to move on to the project figures,” one of the executives said, snapping my attention back to the present. I’d been listening, nodding along as they reviewed quarterly reports, but my mind was elsewhere—always drifting back to Chris and Emily, to whatever slim chance remained of finding them alive.Just then, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and saw Joe’s name. My heart skipped a beat. Joe was in France, tracking the mob’s every move, and he only called when there was news—either good or bad. And today, it could only mean one thing.“Excuse me,” I said, pushing back my chair and standing, doing my best to keep my tone steady. “I need to take this. Important call.”I stepped out of the room and quickly found a secluded corner, shielding myself from the murmur of the meeting room. Taking a deep breath, I answered, “Joe?”“Elijah,” came Joe’s calm but urgent voice. “I know how to contact them.”My heart raced. “Chris and Emily?”“Yes. I’ve

Sophia’s POVI stood in Emily’s studio, amidst the familiar flurry —the soft whir of sewing machines, the quiet chatter of the design team as they pored over fabrics and patterns. It was strange, almost surreal, how much had changed in the time since Emily had gone into hiding. Yet, in some ways, it felt like she was still here, her presence still felt in every stitch, every design choice, every carefully crafted piece.Beside me, my best friend Kayla was flipping through a sketchbook, her focus sharp as she reviewed the latest designs. We’d both taken it upon ourselves to oversee the operations of Emily’s studio, to make sure her vision continued, even if she couldn’t be here. We owed her that much.I leaned in closer to Kayla, lowering my voice. “Kayla,” I began, unable to keep the excitement from my tone, “there’s something I need to tell you.”She glanced up, immediately catching on to the seriousness in my voice. “What is it?” she asked, setting the sketchbook down.“They’re ali