All Chapters of Dear CEO, I Want a Divorce: Chapter 291 - Chapter 300

OSTARA’S POVI wasn’t sure when I fell asleep… but when I woke up, I was still tied, this time in a chair. I felt that before I even opened my eyes. The strong wooden back and, still, the hard rope cutting into my skin at my ankles and wrists. I tried to focus on sound first… I could hear a hum somewhere, like machinery kept in another room. Then, smell came to me—dust, oil, something metallic and old. My head throbbed sharply as I forced my eyes to open and look around. The same ceiling, high and crisscrossed with steel beams and dim industrial lighting. I was seated, slumped slightly forward, muscles stiff and aching.“Ossie?” The voice was hoarse. Familiar. More importantly, it sounded close enough to be real and not something my imagination made up to help me cope. I turned my head slowly, fighting the dizziness.Natalie was tied to a chair roughly 25 feet away. Her hair was a mess, one side of her face darkening with a bruise already forming along her cheekbone. Her wrists w

ANTHONY’S POVThe first rule of a search like this is simple: don’t panic.The second rule is harder: don’t let anyone see that you’re terrified.I stood in the temporary command room we’d set up less than an hour after I left the Ardent Crown. Screens lined the walls: satellite maps, live feeds, ports, marinas. Warehouse clusters within a hundred-mile radius. The phones wouldn’t stop ringing, and they were answered by the security team Mark hired before the words even left my mouth. It all looked controlled. That was important—the illusion. Because if people saw I was barely holding it together, the entire operation would fall apart. Something we couldn’t afford. “She was taken between twelve forty-five and one fifteen,” I said, forcing my voice steady. “That gives them a head start of maybe three hours before we even knew she was missing.”Mark nodded. “We’re narrowing down likely drop points.”“Don’t narrow,” I snapped. “Widen. Assume they want us confused.”He adjusted immediat

ANTHONY’S POVElijah arrived hours later.By then, I’d showered, changed, and scrubbed the smell of the ship out of my skin, but none of that mattered. The house still felt wrong. It was both too quiet and too loud at the same time. I could hear guards walking outside—boots on gravel, soft radio clicks, the occasional murmur when someone rotated positions. It should have reassured me. Instead, it made my skin itch.I was going crazy. The front door opened at the time expected and Penny walked in first, followed by Elijah. Donna was on the living room rug with Bethany, pretending to draw. I could tell it was pretending because she kept pausing, looking up, listening for things that might indicate dangerThe moment Penny spotted her, she broke away from her father and ran. Donna barely had time to look up before Penny threw her arms around her, clinging tight. Her small body shook with the force of it, as if she’d been holding herself together the entire flight and had finally hit th

ANTHONY’S POVThe warehouse sat on the outskirts of town like a dead beast—silent, hulking, metal ribs jutting into the cold night. Floodlights cut uneven stripes across the cracked pavement, flickering in the wind. Mark and four of my most trusted men were already positioned around the perimeter, but the place still felt too exposed, too empty.I stepped out of the car, exhaustion clinging to my bones, no sleep in me, and too many unanswered questions in front.Elijah’s car pulled in a second later.He got out slowly, shoulders squared, expression unreadable. He didn’t walk toward me. He lingered at the entrance, watching the road, waiting. Something about the posture pricked the back of my mind.Mark came up to me first.“Perimeter swept twice,” he murmured. “No signs of anyone else.”“Good,” I said, but my eyes were on Elijah.He looked formal.Tense.Not anxious—prepared.Prepared for what, exactly?I joined him at the entrance.“You alright?” I asked quietly.“I’m fine,” he sai

OSTARA’S POVNatalie had drifted in and out of sleep three times already—head dropping forward, breathing shallow, limbs slack. The last time her eyes fluttered closed, she didn’t wake again for nearly an hour.That just confirmed to me that the food they were giving us was, in fact, drugged. Maybe not heavily—but enough to keep us compliant. I ate very little, only enough to not pass out. And even then, I could feel it affect my thinking. Natalie, though, wouldn’t hold back because she couldn’t tolerate the hunger. Watching her sway in and out of consciousness confirmed that I couldn’t depend on her. I had told Natalie the plan earlier, but she was too exhausted to listen fully. Truth was, she didn’t need to be awake for any of it. I’d planned it that way.I couldn’t afford to build my escape on the shaky hope that someone else would hold their nerve. I needed something that worked even if Natalie collapsed, panicked, or froze. She slept again, slumped forward.And that was when