All Chapters of UNTIL YOU REMEMBER ME: Chapter 241 - Chapter 250


(Adrian) The financial report landed on my desk like a second execution. Valez Urban Development had formally withdrawn all authority and revenue rights from Reyes Holdings. Every pending contract, every future project, every shared stream that had once bound our companies through the marriage clause — gone. Signed by Alessandra Valez. The losses were catastrophic. Hundreds of millions in projected revenue evaporated overnight. The board was in panic mode. Analysts were already downgrading our stock. And then came the second blow. Alessa had gone on record again — this time in a written statement released through her new legal team. She accused me of corruption, claiming I had used Reyes Holdings funds to “finance my AG mistress” — Kathryn. She painted a vivid, ugly picture: secret payments, favors traded for influence, a long-term affair that had allegedly corrupted both companies. She even dragged in old emails and vague financial trails that could be twisted to look damnin


 (Adrian) I spent the afternoon comparing them in my mind — Kathryn and Alessa — not as women, but as forces. Alessa held power through legacy and emotion. She was the heir to Valez Urban Development, the lead architect whose designs shaped skylines. Her signature on those contract terminations had cost Reyes Holdings hundreds of millions overnight. She wielded influence through public narrative — posting the dissolution papers, announcing her engagement to Marcus, painting herself as the wounded survivor. Her power was chaotic, personal, and destructive. It relied on spectacle, on sympathy, on the court of public opinion. But it was fragile. Emotional. Tied to her trauma, her memory loss, her sleepwalking episodes. One well-placed legal push could expose it as unstable. Kathryn’s power was different. Institutional. Surgical. As Attorney General of New York, she commanded the full apparatus of the state. She didn’t need to post emotional statements or drag ex-lovers into the


 (Alessa) I was acting like a spoiled little girl, and I didn’t even care. Daddy had always said I could have whatever I wanted if I just asked nicely. So when the pain in my chest got too loud after seeing Adrian with Kathryn at the pool, I did what any daddy’s girl would do — I ran to what felt safe. Marcus. I pulled him closer in the water, wrapped my arms around his neck like he was my lifeline, and kissed him again. Harder this time. More desperate. More public. The kind of kiss that said “Look at me. Look at us. I’m fine without you, Adrian.” Water splashed around us as I laughed against Marcus’s lips, loud enough for the entire rooftop to hear. I felt powerful. Petty. Alive. Later, when we dried off and sat on the lounge chairs with the sun warming our skin, I grabbed my phone. My fingers flew across the screen. First photo: Marcus and me kissing, my hand on his chest, his arm around my waist. Caption: “Choosing happiness again #SecondChances” Second photo: A


 (Adrian) The gala had been exactly what I expected from Alessa — another spectacle. I had seen her the moment she entered: clinging to Marcus, laughing too loudly, kissing his cheek while staring straight at me like she was daring me to react. She wanted me to hurt. She wanted me to feel the same sting she claimed I had caused her. Instead, I felt… nothing. A quiet, hollow calm that surprised even me. When District Attorney Harlan publicly reminded everyone of my past with Kathryn — the law school romance, the proposal, the way we had been inseparable — I didn’t flinch. I simply turned to Kathryn, whispered something meaningless in her ear to make her smile, and kept moving. Alessa’s attempt to humiliate me had only highlighted how far she had fallen into her own chaos. I didn’t stay long after that. Kathryn and I left quietly, her hand in mine as we walked out under the flashing cameras. Let them take pictures. Let them speculate. I was done performing for Alessa’s narrat


 ( Alessa) The divorce was final. The papers arrived by courier at my father’s estate just before lunch. I signed them with shaking hands, my signature bold and final on the last page. Alessandra Valez. No more Reyes. No more shared name. No more shared life. The court had expedited everything — citing my documented trauma, memory loss, and psychological condition. Adrian hadn’t contested it. He had simply let it happen. We were no longer husband and wife. I should have felt free. Instead, I felt hollow. Like someone had reached inside my chest and scooped out everything that still ached for him. I couldn’t sit with that emptiness. So I did the first impulsive thing that came to mind. I called Marcus. He arrived within the hour, concern written all over his face when he saw me pacing in the sunroom. Before he could even ask what was wrong, I grabbed his hands and looked up at him with wild, desperate eyes. “Marry me,” I said, voice trembling but determined. “Right n