All Chapters of Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Maya's POVThe usual morning bustle of the lobby froze the moment I stepped out of the elevator. My mother stood in the center like a gathering storm, designer handbag clutched like a weapon. Ten years hadn't changed her much - same perfectly coiffed hair, same expensive clothes that probably cost more than most people's monthly rent."So this is where you've been hiding," she announced, voice pitched to carry. "Playing career woman while your poor husband sits at home alone."My stomach turned at the sight of phones being raised, at the eager faces of my coworkers pretending not to stare. First day on the job, and already my past was here to haunt me."We should talk somewhere else." My voice came out quieter than intended, but steady."Don't you dare walk away from me." Her voice rose sharply. "I'm not done-""Either we talk privately," I cut in, heat rising in my cheeks, "or security escorts you out. Your choice."She laughed, that brittle sound I remembered from childhood. "You th

Maya's POVI couldn't help but laugh at the memory of Daniel stumbling through Grandfather's mansion last night, all scotch-soaked bravado and empty threats. It was the kind of laugh that caught in your throat - not quite bitter, not quite amused. Just real.The morning commute was oddly peaceful. Traffic flowed smoothly for once, giving me too much time to think about everything and nothing. About how his threats didn't land the same way anymore. About the competition piece I'd submitted last week - "Eden" - and how the name had just felt right.At my desk, I lost myself in current projects. The design for Emma's spring collection needed tweaking, and there was something not quite right about the stone setting in the latest prototype. Normal problems. Safe problems."Ms. Russo?"I jumped, nearly knocking over my coffee. Alex's assistant stood there, apologetic."Sorry to startle you. Mr. Thorne would like a word."My stomach did an odd little flip. Probably about the prototype revisio

Maya's POVIt's funny how spaces can change overnight. The same office that had buzzed with competition excitement yesterday now felt like a minefield of whispers. Every conversation died as I passed, replaced by the heavy silence of people trying too hard to look busy."...can't believe they're sisters...""...guess that explains the interview...""...heard she and the CEO..."The fragments followed me down the corridor. I kept my steps measured, my spine straight. The morning light caught on my design tablet, and I held it like a shield as I made my way to my desk."Did you see the livestream?" Sarah from marketing didn't even try to lower her voice. "The poor sister, crying like that. Makes you wonder what really happened.""Well, you know how she got this job." Claire's response carried just far enough. "The CEO personally-""Stop." I hadn't meant to speak, but suddenly the words were there, cutting through the whispers. Heads turned - some guilty, some curious, some already deci

Maya's POVI felt Daniel's presence behind me in the hallway, heavy as storm clouds. For once, I didn't turn around. Let him watch my back, for a change. The box in my arms - filled with design journals and old sketches - felt like armor against his silence.Three years of marriage, and only now did I understand what real power felt like: the ability to walk away. Each breath came easier than the last, like my lungs were finally remembering how to work properly.My shoes whispered against hardwood floors that had never felt like home. Each step carried me further from the girl who used to flinch at raised voices, closer to someone new. Someone real. I passed the living room where we'd hosted countless dinner parties, the kitchen where I'd learned to make myself small, the study where he'd locked away my designs. Memories ghosted through the halls, but they felt distant now, like watching scenes from someone else's life.Thunder rolled outside as I reached the front door. Through sheet

Maya’s POVThe limo idled outside Thorne Designs, its black exterior gleaming under the streetlights. I adjusted the strap of my emerald gown—a loaner from the company’s styling team—and glared at Olivia through the window. “This is a bad idea.” She leaned against the car door, unbothered. “It’s a charity gala, not a firing squad. Besides, Alex needs you there. Thorne’s rep is still shaky after Fiona’s stunt.” “And whose fault is that?” I muttered, but she’d already vanished into the building. The driver cleared his throat. “Mr. Thorne’s waiting, Ms. Russo.” Rodriguez, I almost corrected him. But old habits died hard. Alex stood at the entrance of the Metropol Ballroom, his tuxedo immaculate, eyes scanning the crowd like a hawk. When he spotted me, his expression softened—just barely. “You’re late.” “Traffic,” I lied. He offered his arm. “Stay close. The vultures are circling.” Inside, the air smelled of orchids and ambition. Crystal chandeliers cast fractured light ov