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Chapter ninety six

Author: Joy Uwaka
last update publish date: 2026-06-14 22:35:54

"You are kidding me," Elara breathed, her coffee mug suspended mid-air as she stared blankly at Sarah.

A single, breathless giggle escaped her lips, breaking the early morning quiet of the penthouse. It was a soft, incredulous sound, but within seconds, the sheer, brilliant absurdity of what Sarah had just said bubbled up from deep in her chest. The heavy porcelain mug clattered against the polished white quartz of the kitchen island as Elara collapsed against Tyler’s chest, her shoulders shaki
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  • DIVORCED Back To Claim What’s Mine    Chapter one-hundred-twenty-two

    The penthouse was blissfully quiet. The soft, ambient light of the Manhattan skyline filtered through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, casting long, peaceful shadows across the minimalist luxury of the living room. The air was filled with the faint, comforting scent of fresh lavender and vanilla, a welcome contrast to the toxic, heavy atmosphere of the lakeside terrace they had left behind upstate.Tyler walked slowly down the carpeted hallway, carrying little Leo gently on his shoulders. The boy’s small hands were loosely wrapped around Tyler's forehead, his head lulling to the side as his eyes fought a losing battle against sleep. Tyler navigated the doorway of Leo's bedroom with practiced ease. He bent down slowly, lifting Leo from his shoulders with his massive, careful hands, and went and lay him down on the plush, cloud like mattress."Sleep tight, little champion," Tyler whispered, pulling the soft blue comforter up to the boy’s chin. He brushed a stray lock of hair from Leo

  • DIVORCED Back To Claim What’s Mine    Chapter one-hundred-twenty-one

    Elara POV The frantic, neon lit chaos of the upstate highway slowly dissolved into a soothing, rhythmic blur of streetlights as Tyler’s luxury SUV glided southward toward Manhattan. The interior of the vehicle was a warm, quiet sanctuary, insulated from the chilly autumn wind and the toxic echoes of the lakeside terrace.In the back seat, little Leo had finally fallen fast asleep. Wrapped in his soft woolen blanket, his long eyelashes casting tiny shadows on his tear stained cheeks, he slept deeply, utterly exhausted from the crying and the terrifying confrontation with the Vanes. The quiet, rhythmic sound of his soft, steady breathing filled the cabin, bringing a profound, grounding peace to the two adults in the front.Elara sat in the passenger seat, her head leaning tiredly against the window as she watched the dark waters of the Hudson River flicker under the moonlight. The emerald-green silk of her dress shimmered softly in the dim amber glow of the dashboard. For a long time,

  • DIVORCED Back To Claim What’s Mine    Chapter one-hundred-twenty

    Downstairs in his drunken, raging stupor, Charlie had completely lost his fucking mind. The humiliation of the restaurant, the burning pain of Elara’s double slap, and the cold, terrifying finality of his mother’s lockdown had pushed him past the brink of sanity. He was drowning in a toxic mix of premium scotch and raw, unchecked madness. He wasn't just a man defeated; he was a cornered animal, screaming at the empty mahogany walls of the library, throwing priceless crystal glasses into the roaring fireplace until the hearth was littered with jagged, glowing shards."Damn it! F**k all of them!" Charlie roared, his voice thick, slurred, and echoing with a pathetic, desperate fury. "I am Charlie Vane! They can't lock me in my own fucking house! They can't treat me like a criminal!"His mind was a chaotic blur of rage and alcohol. He couldn't face the reality of what was coming. He couldn't face his mother’s freezing gaze, and he damn sure couldn't face the terrifying truth of Lydia's em

  • DIVORCED Back To Claim What’s Mine    Chapter one-hundred-nineteen

    The master bedroom of the Vane suite had never felt so much like a tomb. Outside the heavy, triple locked doors, the silent mansion was patrolled by Evelyn’s private security guards, their heavy, rhythmic footsteps occasionally echoing through the hallway like the ticking of a grandfather clock counting down to her execution.Downstairs, the muffled, violent sound of glass shattering against the marble fireplace signaled Charlie’s descent into a pathetic, drunken stupor. He was completely out of his mind, screaming at the walls, drowning his humiliation in bottle after bottle of expensive scotch. He couldn't face the reality of the slaps Elara had delivered, nor could he face his mother's freezing, silent wrath. He had completely abandoned Lydia to her fate, locking himself in the library to drink himself into oblivion.Upstairs, Lydia sat on the cold floor of her walk-in closet, her knees pulled tightly to her chest, shivering violently. Her gorgeous sapphire velvet gown was crumpled

  • DIVORCED Back To Claim What’s Mine    Chapter one-hundred-eighteen

    The interior of the custom Mercedes limousine was a silent, terrifying nightmare. The partition separating the driver from the passengers had been rolled up, creating a claustrophobic, airless vacuum. The sleek vehicle glided smoothly down the dark, misty upstate highway, but inside, the atmosphere was thick with a toxic, paralyzing tension that made it difficult to breathe.Lydia sat huddled in the corner of the leather seat, clutching her sapphire velvet dress around her shivering frame. Her eyes were wide, vacant, and fixed on the passing headlights outside, but she wasn't actually seeing them. Her mind was spinning in a state of absolute, chaotic panic. The fragile digital fortress she had built with Clara Sterling’s help had been completely bypassed. Tyler's devastating revelation that she was Elara’s younger blood sister had stripped away her carefully crafted identity in a single second.Beside her, Charlie sat with his head buried in his hands. His knuckles were still red, and

  • DIVORCED Back To Claim What’s Mine    Chapter one-hundred-seventeen

    The heavy silence that blanketed the heated terrace was suffocating. Every whisper in the restaurant had died down, and the eyes of dozens of high-society diners were glued to the dramatic stage.Charlie blinked, his mind completely numb, his face still burning with the fiery imprint of Elara’s double slap. Beside him, Lydia was afraid and confused, thinking that the whole truth was going to be exposed soon. Her heart was beating like a wild, trapped animal against her ribs. She knew that if Tyler opened his mouth further, her fake pregnancy, her fake doctor, and her stolen life would be shattered in front of the Vane matriarch. Yet, even as cold sweat beaded at her hairline, she desperately fought to keep her composure, maintaining a polite smile on her face to hide the absolute terror consuming her soul.Evelyn Vane’s brilliant, calculating mind was spinning out of control. She looked at her towering, furious nephew, then at her utterly silent son, and then back again."Tyler, what

  • DIVORCED Back To Claim What’s Mine    Chapter seventy seven

    The cold, heavy rain of Chelsea fell in relentless sheets, washing over the grime of the pavement and throwing the dark alleys into deep, glistening shadows. Lydia pulled the collar of her designer trench coat high up around her throat, her fingers trembling as she pushed open the heavy, rusted met

  • DIVORCED Back To Claim What’s Mine    Chapter seventy five

    The digital hum of the server racks in the adjacent tech suite seemed to vibrate through the floor of Elara's private office. Sarah stepped back into the room, her expression a mix of professional precision and deep, analytical worry. She had spent the last hour personally overseeing the dep

  • DIVORCED Back To Claim What’s Mine    Chapter seventy four

    The morning sun cut through the towering glass spires of Manhattan, casting long, geometric shadows across the polished white marble of Elara’s private office. It was a bright, deceptively calm morning, but inside the high rise suite, the atmosphere was thick with the electric tension of the

  • DIVORCED Back To Claim What’s Mine    Chapter seventy three

    The formal living room of the Vane mansion had been transformed into a cold, brightly lit stage. Charlie paced the Persian rug, his shadows stretching long and dramatic against the wood-paneled walls, looking like a manic director blocking out the final scene of a tragedy. His face was flushed with

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