All Chapters of Ex-husband’s Regret: Revenge So Sweet : Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

Isabel’s POVI smooth my hand over the silk fabric hugging my body, taking in the sight of myself in the mirror. A slow, calculating smile tugs at my lips. “Today,” I murmur to my reflection, “I’m going to reveal a part of me Cynthia never knew about. A part I placed in her life for a moment exactly like this.”My fingers graze the velvet box on the vanity, lifting it to reveal a set of emerald-encrusted earrings—bold, elegant, quiet power. As I slip them on, I think of her. I know how much of a big spender Cynthia is. Shopping is her escape when the walls start to close in, when the guilt begins to whisper. But how will it feel when she finally discovers the mastermind behind the elite group she so shamelessly parades around in? The very empire she thought was her playground—mine.Just as I pick up my bracelet, the door bursts open.“Well, well…” Aurora says, arms crossed, eyes twinkling. “I guess today’s the day. I’ve been waiting for this moment forever. Do you know how annoying it

Cynthia’s POVHe walks toward me calmly, like a man who didn’t just have his secret ripped from the shadows and laid bare. Without a word, he plucks the photo from my trembling fingers, bends slowly to pick up the book, and straightens with a sigh like this is nothing more than an inconvenience. Like my entire world hasn’t just shifted.He turns his back to me, facing the far end of the room with that irritating stillness he always uses when he’s trying to dismiss a situation.I blink. Once. Twice. The coolness in his posture stuns me—it’s a stark, calculated contrast to what I expected. No shouting. No denial. Just silence. But I refuse to let him act like he doesn’t owe me an explanation.“If you’re here to ask for money again,” he says, his voice hard and sharp, “then just leave. I’m not wasting my money on you—especially not when you’ll end up spending it on shopping sprees.”He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even turn. And that’s what sends my pulse spiking. He’s ignoring it. All of it.

Isabel’s POVI walk through the glossy marbled floors of the King’s Empire building, each step echoing with purpose. The air is thick with quiet power—assistants darting between elevators, phones ringing in clipped urgency, polished shoes tapping rhythmically against glass floors. But none of it touches me. My focus is razor-sharp.Strike when the iron is hot.Perfect timing isn’t just a tactic—it’s an art.And right now? The fire’s raging.I don’t stop to greet anyone. I don’t pause when heads turn. I know where I’m going.Alexander’s office.When I reach the door, I don’t knock. I push it open with a practiced ease. Bold. Unapologetic.His face lifts from the document he’s reading, surprise—or is that shock?—etching deep into his features. Understandable. I’m not the type to show up uninvited. But today?Today, I’ll bend the rules.If only to twist the reaction I want out of him.He stands slowly, like a lion woken from his throne, cautious but alert. I wrap my arms around my chest,

Isabel’s POVI step out into the cool air, letting the heavy door click shut behind me. A breath pushes past my lips as I lift my face toward the sky, the breeze brushing over my skin like a silent reward.“That was cool,” I murmur to myself, nodding slightly. “You don’t have to let Alexander’s presence affect you. Never again.”He’s not worth it—not the pain, not the confusion, and certainly not the space in my heart. A man who can look you dead in the eye and question your safety like it’s a business inconvenience doesn’t deserve to be kept anywhere near your soul.My hand curls into a fist at my side, nails biting into my palm.“I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he stays far away from my life for good.”I turn to walk toward my car, heels clicking steadily across the pavement. But just as I reach for the handle, a shift in the air stills me. That familiar scent—too expensive, too calculated—hits before I even see her.Sabrina.The mother hen.Of course.I blink, inhale slowly,

Alexander’s POVI sit slouched in my chair, head resting against the high back, rocking slightly as the chair creaks beneath me. My fingers tap a pen rhythmically on the table, a steady beat that contrasts the chaos in my mind.“Be prepared to go down with Cynthia.”Isabel’s voice plays on a loop in my head. I don’t know why, but it’s the way she said it—with quiet certainty—that unsettles me. She’s not bluffing. That much I know.The door bursts open.I sit up instantly as my mother storms in like a woman who’s just been ripped out of a nightmare—wild eyes, stiff shoulders, hands trembling by her side.“What was she doing here?” she demands, jerking her thumb back toward the hallway. “She was just here. Isabel. And she—” Her voice falters, lips trembling.I stand slowly. “What?”“She spoke to me like I was nothing. Can you believe how she spoke to me? She even accused me of wishing her dead!”Her chest rises and falls fast, anger mixed with fear pouring from her in sharp breaths. “Sh