All Chapters of Mr CEO Your Ex-wife Is Back: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

JULIANMidnight had a way of exposing cracks in even the strongest facades. I stood alone in the dimly lit corridor of the penthouse, staring at the closed door of the master bedroom where Sienna now slept. For the first time in years, I felt no desire to join her. Instead, a strange restlessness pulled me toward the study like an invisible thread. There was a question gnawing at the edge of my mind, one I couldn’t quite name yet. It felt like the beginning of a puzzle I hadn’t asked to solve, but now couldn’t ignore.The penthouse was quiet except for the low hum of the city far below. I stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, swirling a glass of whiskey, watching the lights of London bleed into the Thames. Sleep had become a stranger since the gala. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her.My phone vibrated on the desk. Marcus Vale.I answered immediately. “Tell me you have something useful.”“More questions than answers,” Marcus said, his voice tight. “I dug deeper like you asked. Th

DANIELI stood by the window of the apartment, staring out at the quiet London street below. My mind refused to settle. For weeks I had been trying to find the right moment, the right words. How do you tell the woman you’ve loved in silence for years that every breath you take is still tangled up in her? That from the first day Julian brought her home — radiant, trusting, and far too good for him — I had felt something shift inside me that never shifted back?I wasn’t like my brother. That much I knew. Years ago, Julian and I had done something together — something illegal, something that should have destroyed us both. We had covered it up perfectly. But when the dust settled, Julian had thrown me under the bus to save himself, twisting the narrative so cleanly that I was left carrying the guilt alone while he walked away unscathed. I never forgave him. I never would. That betrayal was the final proof that Julian didn’t deserve Elena. He never had.The sound of soft footsteps pulled

JULIANThe leather chair creaked as I shut the laptop. Marcus had delivered exactly what I needed. The financial picture between Daniel and Ava looked clean—mentoring, a promised cut, professional boundaries. Nothing that smelled like conspiracy. A quiet relief uncoiled in my chest. Maybe it really was just business. No hidden blades,the constant knot behind my ribs loosened.I was falling. I could feel it happening, like a slow tide I had no interest in fighting. It had been years since anyone stirred anything real in me. Sienna carried my child, yet her presence felt like background noise. Ava, though—she made the air feel charged.Tonight I could enjoy the hunt instead of bracing for it.The car hummed through London’s glittering streets and deposited me at Le Gavroche. Inside, the air carried notes of truffle and warm butter. The maître d’ guided me past murmuring tables to the private alcove, where heavy velvet curtains shut out the world. Candlelight painted shifting gold across

DANIELThe apartment door slammed behind Ava with a finality that echoed through my chest like a gunshot. I stood frozen in the middle of the living room, the sting on my cheek still burning hot from her slap. My hand rose slowly, fingers brushing the spot where her palm had connected. Deserved. Every bit of it.The necklace lay on the floor where it had fallen, the delicate gold chain coiled like a sleeping snake, the pendant catching the low lamplight in a soft, mocking gleam. I bent down and picked it up, the metal warm from her skin. Instant regret crashed over me like icy water. What the hell had I been thinking? Giving her that piece, pushing it on her like some childish claim of ownership. I had wanted Julian to see it, to feel the knife twist. Instead, I had driven a wedge straight between Ava and me.“Fuck,” I muttered, sinking onto the edge of the couch. Would she ever trust me again? After everything I had done to protect her, to stand beside her through the pain and the pl

SIENNAThe phone buzzed on the marble island, slicing through the quiet of the penthouse like a scalpel. I was halfway through my third cup of herbal tea,doctor’s orders for the baby—when the unknown number flashed. My hand froze mid-reach. Only one person had this burner line.I answered on the third ring, voice steady because that’s what I do. “Talk fast.”“It’s me,” the nurse whispered, breath ragged like she’d been running. “They know.The surgery,it’s happening right now.”My stomach dropped. Not the gentle flutter of the baby kicking, but a cold, hollow plummet. “What surgery? Ava’s was three months out. I checked the schedule myself last week. You told me—”“She pushed it forward. Twice. First the doctor moved it because the episodes got worse, bleeding, pain, everything accelerating. Then she called this morning and demanded it today. Noon. They’re in there now.”I sank onto the barstool, the cool leather sticking to my thighs. My mind raced, replaying every careful drop I’d me