All Chapters of Chasing My Innocent Ex-wife Back: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

FLORENCE’S POVFive days.Five days of captivity cloaked in luxury.Daniel had kept his distance, offering nothing but vague greetings and indifferent smiles whenever we crossed paths. It seemed my attempted escape had somehow earned his respect, giving me free rein within the villa’s walls.But freedom behind locked gates was hardly freedom at all.My days had settled into a strange, dreamlike routine. Morning sunlight spilling over polished marble, afternoon teas set upon delicate porcelain, and restless nights spent staring at moonlight pooling through heavy curtains. It was maddening—the constant luxury and comfort twisted into something oppressive.And yet, amidst the fear and uncertainty, there was one surprising comfort.Daniel’s mother. Margaret. She couldn’t speak or move much, confined to her wheelchair. Yet, her expressive eyes spoke so much, filled with warmth and sadness in equal measure. It took me two days to notice how often she glanced longingly at the bookshelves l

DANIEL’S POVBy seventeen, I had hired two friends from my neighborhood—guys who were smart and wanted to make money. We worked out of my mother’s living room, pushing out customized grading and attendance software for public schools that didn’t have the budgets for top-tier tech.One of those schools was Westbridge High. The principal there, Mr. Gerald Lockwood, took one look at our product and invited me to lunch. I thought I was in trouble. Turns out he wanted to invest.Gerald wasn’t just an educator—he was a quiet giant in the local business scene. He’d built several small ventures and had a reputation for mentoring kids from difficult backgrounds. He liked what I’d built. Said I reminded him of what he used to be.He took me under his wing.Three afternoons a week, after finishing school and client meetings, I’d head to his study. He taught me how to read balance sheets, pitch to investors, analyze market gaps, and build trust. He taught me about the psychology of power—how the

MASON’S POVMy phone burned in my hand, the screen still lit up with the anonymous message”“Which one do you want back?”Daniel Lockwood. His name instantly surged to the forefront of my mind. I clenched my jaw, fury mingling with a growing sense of dread. At least now I knew Jade hadn’t lied—Daniel really was threatening her.I glanced around the nearly deserted venue. Only a handful of staff quietly cleared away the final remnants of the night’s festivities. Soft murmurs of conversation faded into silence as guests dwindled away.Panic pulsed beneath my skin. I scanned the remaining crowd, spotting Emily near the exit, chatting distractedly with one of her model friends. Rage pushed me forward.“Emily!” I barked, crossing the space in urgent strides. She turned to me, startled by my harsh tone. “Where is Daniel?”Emily blinked, confusion creasing her brow. “Why would I—”“Don’t play dumb,” I snapped, not bothering to hide my fury. “Daniel Lockwood. You two are dating, aren’t you? C

MASON’S POVRaiden was dragged away by my security team, kicking and snarling until the door slammed shut behind him. They took him down to the Eternity security room, and I didn’t miss the sharp crackling of a taser and his angry shout echoing faintly through the corridor. I’d deal with that later—apologize, maybe even thank him—but right now, my priority was knowing Florence’s location.Jade sat trembling on my office couch, still pale and shaken. Her disheveled hair and bruised wrists hinted at the nightmare she’d endured. I knelt beside her gently, trying to steady my voice.“Jade,” I began cautiously, “I know this is difficult, but I need you to tell me everything. Where were you held?”She swallowed hard, eyes darting nervously around the office, then finally settling on me. “Some horrible, smelly warehouse. It was cold, dark… I could barely see anything. Rats everywhere…” Her voice cracked, and tears flooded her eyes again.“Did Daniel visit you there?” I pressed.“No,” she sn

FLORENCE’S POVRaiden didn’t take any chances. After everything I’d been through, he drove me straight to the same hospital where my father had spent the last few months. The sterile hallways were hauntingly familiar, the smell of disinfectant bringing back bittersweet memories.Raiden’s hand stayed firmly intertwined with mine, his grip gentle yet protective, almost as though he feared someone would tear me away from him again if he dared loosen his hold. His nervous energy was comforting, a solid presence reminding me that this nightmare was finally ending.After a full battery of tests—blood work, X-rays, a neurological assessment—the doctors reassured us that physically, I was perfectly fine. But emotionally, I was exhausted, overwhelmed by the constant barrage of medical jargon.“Miss Hart, physically you’re unharmed,” the senior doctor explained calmly, flipping through notes on a clipboard. “However, you might experience delayed reactions—panic attacks, anxiety, nightmares. It