All Chapters of DIVORCED Back To Claim What’s Mine : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Lydia sat on the edge of the guest bed, her fingers trembling as she clutched her phone. The chemical haze of the sedatives she had swallowed earlier was starting to wear off, leaving behind a cold, sharp panic that clawed at her throat. She couldn’t let Charlie’s private investigator keep digging. If that gravel voiced bastard uncovered the truth about Elara’s pregnancy and Leo’s real father, her life was f**king over. Charlie would discard her like trash, and the Vanes would make sure she and her parents ended up in a ditch.Demn it, she had to stop him.She dialed the investigator's encrypted number, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. On the third ring, the line clicked open."Talk to me," the investigator grunted, his voice sounding like boots grinding on gravel."You need to stop investigating Tyler’s past," Lydia said, her voice a sharp, urgent whisper. "Stop looking for the woman. Stop looking into his timeline altogether. I want you to freeze the case im

The morning sun had barely pierced the heavy fog rolling off the Hudson when the quiet of Charlie Vane’s study was shattered by the sharp, metallic ping of a high-priority financial alert. Charlie, who had spent the last several hours staring blankly at fluctuating market tickers, grabbed his phone with a muttered curse.It was an automated notification from the private family bank that handled the Vane trust accounts. His eyes narrowed as he read the transaction details. A wire transfer of one million dollars had just been authorized and processed from Lydia’s personal, offshore auxiliary account a fund that was supposed to be dormant given the sudden financial collapse of her father’s empire."What the f**k?" Charlie whispered, his voice catching in his throat.Where the hell did she get a million dollars? And more importantly, who the hell was she wiring it to in the middle of a f**king crisis? The destination was a blind, encrypted corporate account registered in a tax haven. His

The sleek, glass-walled conference room of the new conglomerate was bathed in the late afternoon glow of the New York skyline. Sarah stood near the interactive display, her fingers tapping rapidly against the screen as she pulled up the guest registration data for the upcoming gala. Her brow was furrowed, the sharp lines of her face tight with a sudden, unexpected concern.Tyler leaned against the edge of the mahogany table, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze steady as he watched her. Elara sat nearby, reviewing a stack of finalized legal transfers that would officially absorb the remaining remnants of the Vance Group’s assets once the gala concluded."We have an anomaly," Sarah said, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of the room. She turned to Tyler, her eyes serious. "Charlie Vane has gone completely off the rails with the invitations. Usually, the Vanes are highly selective, but over the last twenty-four hours, Charlie has personally reached out

Charlie pov​The driving rain of Chelsea beat a relentless rhythm against the industrial pane-glass windows of Elena’s loft apartment. Inside, the space was minimally decorated drafty, shadowed, and smelling faintly of oil paint and expensive, bitter espresso. Charlie Vane stood near the brick hearth, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his tailored cashmere coat. He was a man possessed by a frantic, electric energy, his eyes scanning the dim room until they landed on the woman sitting on the edge of a velvet chaise.​Elena looked weak. She wore a simple, oversized knit sweater that swallowed her small frame, her dark hair falling in messy, damp waves around her shoulders. Her face was pale, completely devoid of makeup, and her eyes were swollen and red-hot with what looked like days of endless weeping. It was, in reality, a masterpiece of preparation the physical manifestation of a two-million-dollar script Lydia had bought for her. But

The heavy lock clicked shut with a metallic, final ring as Lydia’s footsteps faded down the long, cold hallway of the master wing. Inside the guest suite, the silence she left behind was not peaceful; it was a suffocating, toxic pressure that seemed to expand from the corners of the room. The shattered fragments of the crystal vase Lydia had thrown earlier still lay scattered across the polished floor, catching the dim afternoon light like tiny, sharp teeth.Silas stood frozen by the mahogany vanity, his hand still hovering near the open, vintage leather briefcase where the stolen inheritance documents lay exposed in their false lining. He looked at the shattered glass, then slowly turned his head toward his wife. His face was pale, his skin sagging under the weight of his rapid physical and social decline. He looked older, smaller, and utterly defeated."You see that?" Silas hissed, his voice trembling with a raw, jagged mixture of fear and disgust as he gestured towar