Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Billionaire's Forgotten Ex-wife : Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

[Arella]Vivian’s face comes into view as soon as I turn, her delicate features framed by soft waves of hair, and I can't help but let out a snark. The air between us feels thick, like static before a storm. Her eyes widen, a flicker of surprise and possibly dread crossing her face, but then she smiles and approaches me for a hug, stopping midway at my death glare.“Arella, how are you? I’ve been so worried, and Deric won’t let me speak to you. I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” she says, blinking repeatedly, her voice carrying a mix of urgency and pity.I feel sick to my stomach, the pit churning as if it holds molten lava. I don’t think I can work here. What was I even thinking? Kaitlin already hates me, and now she’s friends with Vivian? The world feels cruelly orchestrated.“Come on now, don’t be all high and mighty, Arella. She just asked a question,” Kaitlin says smugly, her tone mocking. She stands a few feet away, leaning casually against the counter, her arms crossed.

[Arella]Pushing up to my feet, I stumble to the only room in our tiny apartment. My knees feel shaky as I rummage through my bag, the weight of uncertainty pressing on me. Finally, my fingers brush against the smooth edge of Lincoln's card. I pull it out, staring at the number embossed in a fine elegant print. His personal number.I swallow hard, hesitation bubbling in my chest. Is this a good idea? Or should I just meet him in person? My thoughts spiral as I imagine the headlines if we’re seen together. Those filthy entertainment news handlers haven’t stopped tearing me apart since the saga with Deric. .A call it is, then.The phone feels heavy in my hand as I dial the number, my pulse thrumming in my ears. My thumb lingers over the call button, and something stirs deep in my stomach. Butterflies? How ridiculous.It rings. The sound seems endless, stretching time. My heart leaps when a deep, smooth voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts."Hello?"A breath catches in my throa

[Lincoln] I place my hand behind her head to stop it from colliding with the wall, my fingers brushing against her soft hair. Her body instantly softens against me, her tension melting away, and my lips quirk up at the reaction I can’t help but notice. "What are you doing?" she whisper-yells, her voice barely audible, her eyes wide as they roam over my features, searching for answers. Her breath catches as our gazes lock. My eyes trail to her lips, and I swallow, trying to push down the sudden urge to close the space between us. "Lincoln, what are you doing here?!" a shrill voice shrieks from behind, snapping the moment in two. I smirk, knowing my plan has worked perfectly. Bingo. Standing up, my arms still securely wrapped around Arella’s waist, I turn to face the source of the interruption. "I told you I was on a lunch date, Ms. Clara," I say smoothly, my tone laced with deliberate amusement. She humphs, stomping her feet, her face flushing with disbelief. "But–bu

[Arella] He smirks, his gaze lingering on me far too long, making my skin crawl. Does he ever get tired of being creepy? “Come on now, I’m just being friendly. C’mon, hop in. I’ll drop you ladies off.” I feel the heat rising in my chest, the irritation boiling over. Friendly? More like persistent and unwanted. "You need to leave, Frank. Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been following me around—stalking me. Let me warn you now, lay off, or you won’t like the consequences." He freezes, then lets out a dark chuckle, his eyes flashing with a mix of amusement and arrogance. “Stalk you? Deric was right, you’re just a delusional fool,” he says, rolling up his window with a finality that makes my blood boil. Right. Blame me for noticing your obvious lurking. Classic. Without another word, he drives off, leaving us standing there. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, the tension in my shoulders slowly easing. Turning to Ava, I notice her eyes, dark and intense, staring at

[Lincoln] "Right this way, Mr. Sawyer. I'm glad you could make it," Deric says, gesturing toward the grand entrance of the venue. The air inside is warm, heavy with the mingling scents of cologne, champagne, and freshly polished wood. I nod and step in, frustration simmering beneath the surface. I wouldn’t have been here if it wasn’t for Mr. Thompson agreeing to meet on ‘fair grounds.’ Not exactly sure what that means, but here I am. "Hi, I’m Vivian, Deric’s girlfriend," a woman in a short black dress says, extending her hand with a practiced innocent looking smile. So, she’s the one Deric abandoned Arella for. Her eyes are too wide, her smile too bright and calculating. Her mask doesn’t fool me—I can see it all, every crack beneath her polished “pure” exterior, makes me wonder how full of a man Deric actually is to fall for this act. "Yes, she’s my loving girlfriend," Deric adds quickly when I don’t take her hand, his voice faltering just slightly. "You left Arella f