All Chapters of Chasing My Innocent Ex-wife Back: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

FLORENCE’S POVThe days leading up to the fashion show were a blur of fittings, final checks, and media coordination. I barely had time to breathe, let alone think. But every morning, without fail, a fresh bouquet of roses arrived at my desk. They were never the same—coral one day, buttery yellow the next, then soft pink with white tips. Most times, they would arrive with chocolates. Other times, with jewelry or a bag. He knew my colors and style well. It was always thoughtful. Always beautiful. And maybe a little intense. But I still found myself smiling every time they arrived. It momentarily washed away the stress of the fashion show and dropped me into a cozy, wonderful, and romantic world. Until the next crisis emerged, that is. ***On the day of the Eternity-Amora Fashion Show, the venue felt like it had been plucked from a dream—and dropped into the future. The theme, “Marie Antoinette Fantasy”, had once sounded like a challenge. Eternity’s ultra-modern, experimental styl

FLORENCE’S POV“I’m in love,” I heard Mason say. “With a woman I let go. But I’ve realized I made the biggest mistake of my life. And I don’t care what it takes—I’m going to earn her back.”The breath caught in my throat.My blood simmered as cameras flashed and reporters lost their minds behind me. Did he really just—Of course, he did.The second I regained control of my face, I stepped forward, keeping my expression calm, collected. I couldn’t afford a meltdown in front of the press. Not tonight. Not when we’d built this from the ground up.“Thank you so much, everyone,” I said sweetly, stepping between Mason and the camera crew. “We’re going to wrap up here. Mr. Whitehill and I have a few final things to review before the after-party begins!”They nodded, a few trying to push follow-up questions, but I was already leading Mason out of the tent, fingers digging into his sleeve hard enough to bruise.My phone dinged with several notifications. But this wasn’t the time. The moment w

FLORENCE’S POVI stood frozen in disbelief, staring at Clarke Whitehill’s stunned face covered in dripping custard pie. The usually composed, effortlessly arrogant Clarke was now a spectacle—pie crust crumbling from his designer suit, cream smeared across his jaw, disbelief etched deeply into his features.My gaze swung quickly to Annalise. She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling sharply, the delicate lines of her face twisted with anger and humiliation. Annalise was many things—fiery, loyal, brutally honest—but she wasn’t reckless. If she’d just shoved an entire dessert into the face of one of the most powerful men in the city, there had to be an incredibly good reason. And if my experiences with Mason were anything to go by, I knew exactly how frustrating the Whitehill men could be.The music faltered, fading into stunned silence. Guests turned toward the spectacle, whispers rippling through the crowd. Phone cameras rose subtly; eyes widened with shock and amusement.T

MASON’S POVThe interviews were finally over.My jaw ached from smiling, my collar felt like a noose, and my head was still spinning from Florence’s final words to me. I wasn’t sure what burned worse—the look in her eyes when she told me I wasn’t hers anymore, or the press eating it up like I’d just made a PR proposal instead of a personal one.I stepped out of the media tent and into the night, unbuttoning the top of my shirt as I walked. The air had cooled down, crisp and quiet in contrast to the chaos that had unfolded only an hour ago. The party was winding down, but a few guests still mingled under the last strings of fairy lights and half-empty champagne towers.I just wanted a minute to breathe.But peace was short-lived.Across the dimly lit lawn, near the now-empty runway, I saw them: my parents, Clarke, and Clarke’s new fiancée—still standing together, laughing, murmuring, sharing smug glances like they’d won something.I cursed under my breath. Of course they were still her

FLORENCE’S POVThe car slowed, tires crunching over gravel as we turned into a long, tree-lined driveway. Through the gaps in the thick woods, I caught glimpses of what looked like an old, sprawling estate.And then it came into full view: a classic English-style villa, tucked away like something from a gothic novel. Stone façade, ivy creeping up the sides, dark windows that reflected nothing. It was beautiful in the way a haunted house was beautiful—elegant, timeless, and absolutely terrifying.I would have been excited if I weren’t terrified to my bones. The car came to a stop.My heart pounded as one of the men who’d kidnapped me stepped forward and yanked my door open. I barely had time to think before he grabbed me and hoisted me over his shoulder like I was luggage.“Let go of me!” I screamed, kicking. My ankles were still tied, and one of my shoes flew off into the bushes. I lost my balance mid-kick and nearly slammed into the ground.Daniel’s voice rang out behind me. Amused.