All Chapters of After Divorce: Ex-wife Never Turns Back: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Maya's POVI had gone into the house to fix my makeup, to change into my final outfit, to make sure everything was perfect, but all I could hear was the murmur of voices around the house. Their conversations floated up through the walls, drifting into my space, unsolicited, unwanted. Talking about the wedding, how lovely it was, how bold, how scandalous. They were all so predictable, weren’t they? People talking, gossiping, pretending they had something meaningful to say. They had no idea what it cost me to be here, what it had taken to arrange every detail to perfection. They had no clue how much of this wedding was a grand performance—mine—and that performance wasn’t for their entertainment. It was for Emily’s ruin.The frustration bubbled inside me as I applied another layer of mascara, the brush a little too harsh, the strokes a little too forceful. I didn’t care. None of them deserved my restraint. None of them deserved to see the carefully constructed mask that I usually wore. I

Maya's POVLyla’s face softened just slightly, but there was still uncertainty there. She didn’t quite buy it. Not fully. But I had already made up my mind. She didn’t need to know the details—she didn’t need to know anything—because whatever I did next, it would be on my terms. Not Damian’s. Not anyone else’s.The wedding, the company, the shares, everything had to be mine. And no one—not even Damian—was going to ruin it for me. Not again.I was finished being anyone’s second choice. Finished being overlooked. This time, I would be the one holding the reins.“Let’s go,” I said, brushing past her. “We can’t waste any more time here.”We headed back to the reception, the sounds of laughter and music filling the air as we entered the ballroom. The guests were still milling about, some still sipping champagne, others chatting with that air of giddy delight. But as I walked back into the center of it all, it felt like I was standing on a stage, the spotlight burning down on me. The perfec

Barrett’s POV And with that, we stepped out of the car, the city rising above us like a colossus waiting for orders. The lobby smelled like expensive marble and ambition. I could feel the reverence as soon as I stepped through the revolving glass doors. I did not rush. I never rushed. When you commanded respect, time bowed to you, not the other way around. The security guards at the front, clad in their tailored navy uniforms, straightened the moment they saw me. A few nodded. One even tipped his cap. “Mr. Augustus,” one murmured, eyes flicking to the earpiece at his temple, no doubt whispering up the chain that the lion had entered the den. Good. Let Charles squirm in his chair a little longer. Let him wonder why I was here without warning. I passed the first floor’s reception with a slight smile. The younger of the two receptionists nearly spilled her coffee when she realized who I was. “Good morning, sir!” she squeaked, flustered. “Good morning, sweetheart. Try not to faint. I’

Barrett’s POVOnce they were gone, I called Tom, who had wisely waited downstairs in the car, no doubt reading the paper or texting his wife about what groceries to pick up on the way home.“Tom,” I said, “it’s time. We’re going to Emily’s restaurant to pick her up.”He chuckled on the other end. “That was quick, sir. Thought you’d be stuck there all afternoon.”“It does not take long to make people uneasy,” I said with a laugh, lighting one final cigar before snuffing it out prematurely. “Sometimes all you have to do is show up.”I stepped out from my office and walked through the executive corridor with purpose, nodding politely at those who dared look me in the eye. I was not a ghost of the past. I was still the storm that shook the windows. I took the elevator back down, passing floor after floor of carefully polished egos and glass walls, watching my reflection in the silver doors. There he was—Barrett Augustus, still in control, still calling the shots.The lobby greeted me with

Barrett’s POVTom turned the wheel smoothly, his gloved hands steady on the leather steering wheel as the car pulled up in front of Emily’s restaurant. The warm amber glow of the morning sun bathed the little bistro’s façade, catching the edge of its elegant signage and making the gold lettering sparkle. It was half-past ten, a peaceful hour before the doors opened to the bustle of brunch service. I reached for my phone, preparing to dial Emily and let her know we had arrived, when the front door of the restaurant swung open.There she was. Bright-eyed and graceful, waving as she stepped into the sun with a smile that could make a bitter man sweet. I rolled down the window and gave her a gentleman’s wave, the kind I had perfected over the decades. There was charm in that wave, intention too. I always made a show of things. She crossed the sidewalk quickly, her steps light and full of purpose, and Tom, ever the reliable footman, was already out of the car and opening the door before sh