Lahat ng Kabanata ng An Ex-wife's Guide to Revenge: Kabanata 171 - Kabanata 180

LYSSANDRA I wake again to silence. The sheets beside me are rumpled, indented where Erden slept, but empty now. I lie there for a few seconds longer than necessary, staring at the ceiling, letting the feeling pass through me.There was a time when waking up alone like this would’ve sent my thoughts spiraling, dredging up old fears and older wounds. But this morning, there’s only a mild ache of awareness that he's gone, not an alarm. Still, I miss him.I swing my legs over the side of the bed and pull on one of his shirts without thinking. It hangs loose on me, the hem brushing my thighs, the sleeves swallowing my hands. There’s something decadently sexy about wearing his clothes.Downstairs, I hear voices before I reach the kitchen. There's Riley’s unmistakable cadence, talking over Etienne’s quieter tone. The smell of coffee hits me next, rich and comforting, and my body immediately responds, tension easing from my shoulders I step into the kitchen to find Riley perched against

ERDENI am already halfway through a call when Lyssandra’s message comes in, and the moment I read Arch’s name, something tightens in my chest in a way that has nothing to do with surprise and everything to do with confirmation. I don’t stop what I’m doing, I don’t slow down, and I don’t pretend that this is anything other than exactly what I have been expecting all along. If Arch is bold enough to walk into her office and issue threats, then my father is closer than we thought, close enough to feel comfortable letting his dogs bark in public.I end the call I’m on with Lyssandra, and dial Farouk immediately, already walking toward the garage where Aksel and Kavev are waiting. When Farouk answers, I don’t waste time with greetings or pleasantries.“Are you still on Arch?” I ask, keeping my voice level even though my pulse has started to pick up.“Yes,” Farouk replies, and I hear the sound of traffic through his open window. “He left the office not long ago. I’m a few cars back. He’s

ERDENThe drive to the hospital feels longer than it should, even with the siren screaming ahead of us and the road clearing like it knows better than to get in our way. I sit rigid in the passenger seat, jaw clenched, replaying Arch’s smile over and over again. That calm and confidence. I'd known something was wrong and I should have trusted my instincts instead of trying to force logic onto something that has never played by logical rules.Aksel drives like he’s trying to tear the asphalt apart, his hands tight on the wheel, knuckles pale. Kavev is in the back, phone pressed to his ear, barking orders and questions to people who don’t have answers yet. No one is saying what we’re all thinking, but it hangs between us anyway, undeniable. Arch did not show himself because he was desperate. He showed himself because he needed us somewhere else.The hospital is ahead. We don’t bother parking properly. Aksel pulls up at the curb, and I’m out of the car before it fully stops, my pulse

LYSSANDRA The door swings inward with a soft, almost polite creak, and for the briefest, most fragile second, my heart lifts stupidly in my chest.Nyra.The name dies before it ever reaches my lips.It isn’t my sister standing in the hallway. It isn’t her dark eyes or familiar posture or the way she always leaned slightly to one side, like the world tilted better that way.It’s Cade.And behind him, half slumped against the wall like something dragged in from a war zone and left to bleed out slowly, is Arch.My breath leaves me in a sharp, involuntary gasp, like my lungs have been punched. My vision narrows, the edges of the hallway blurring as my brain scrambles to catch up with what my eyes are already screaming at me.Arch looks awful. Worse than awful. His shirt is torn open at the shoulder, soaked through with blood that has dried dark and tacky in places and freshened again in others. There’s a gash along his temple, crusted but angry, and his knuckles are split, red and swoll

LYSSANDRA By the time I realize it has been two days, the knowledge doesn’t arrive all at once. It seeps into me slowly, like cold through stone, settling in my bones until everything aches with it.No one comes.Not Cross. Not Cade. Not even the silent guards whose footsteps I’d memorized the first night. The house moves around me without ever touching me, like I’m a ghost haunting my own captivity. I hear doors opening and closing somewhere beyond my walls, voices murmuring faintly and then fading away, but none of them belong to anyone who intends to look me in the eye.The food appears when I’m not looking.I notice the pattern on the second day, when I step out of the shower with damp hair clinging to my back and find a tray already sitting on the small table by the wall. It hadn’t been there when I went in. There is no knock, no sound of a door opening or closing, no hint of another presence. Just warm food, arranged neatly, as if someone had been waiting for the sound of runn