Chasing His Ex-Wife Back

I close the door to our—no,his—bedroom,the sound echoing through the empty halls like the final note of a funeral march.The weight of the evening presses down on me,suffocating and inescapable. My fingers tremble as I reach for the suitcase at the foot of the bed,the one I hadn’t touched since our honeymoon.How ironic that it would be the last witness to this Chapter of my life. The room still carries traces of us:the silk sheets tangled from restless nights,the scent of his cologne lingering in the air like an uninvited memory.Every detail feels like a cruel joke,mocking me with what I’ve lost. I stand in the center,numb,trying to process what just happened downstairs.Kaia’s mocking smile,her possessive arm around Damion’s waist,the way he didn’t even flinch when she kissed him in front of everyone.It wasn’t just betrayal—it was annihilation,a public declaration that I was nothing. I sit on the edge of the bed,my hands fisting the fabric of my dress,now wrinkled and cold.The humiliation cuts deeper than any wound. The whispers of the guests replay in my mind,like ghostly echoes that won’t let me breathe. “Did she know her husband was cheating?” “Poor Isabelle.She went through all this trouble for him,and look how he repays her.” I press my hands to my ears,but the memories won’t stop.I spent weeks planning tonight,hoping it would bring us closer,remind Damion of the life we once dreamed of.Instead,it became a nightmare that refuses to end. I glance at the suitcase and force myself to move.Each item I pack feels like a piece of my heart being stripped away. The sweater he gave me on our first anniversary.The framed photo of us on the beach,his arm around me as we laughed at something only we would find funny.I pause,staring at the photo.His eyes are softer there,full of a warmth I can barely remember.Where did that version of him go?Of us?The one that believed love was enough to conquer any storm? The silence in the room is deafening,broken only by the sound of my shaky breaths.The walls seem to close in,pressing down with the weight of betrayal. I grab my phone and type a message,my fingers trembling. Where are you? I stare at the screen,willing it to light up with a reply.Nothing.I drop it aggressively,the sound echoing in the empty room.He’s not coming after me.I know where he is.He’s with Kaia,the woman who used to be my confidante,who knew every hope and fear I shared.How long had she been smiling to my face while slipping a knife into my back? The way she looked at me tonight,triumphant and smug,told me all I needed to know.This wasn’t new.Damion’s coldness,the late nights at the office,the way he turned away whenever I tried to talk about our struggles—every moment slots into place like pieces of a puzzle I refused to see. I blink back tears,refusing to let them fall,but one escapes.If I start crying now,I won’t stop.I need to leave before I break down completely. I fold the last of my clothes,the ache in my chest growing heavier with every movement.My fingers brush against the necklace he bought me for our third anniversary.It was supposed to symbolize eternity.How foolish I was to believe in such things.I throw it into the suitcase and zip it up with a finality that makes my hands shake. Memories flood back—the cold dinners eaten in silence,the way he brushed off my attempts at affection,his clipped responses whenever I suggested we visit the doctor again. “I love you,there’s no need to see the doctor.” I remember the first time I told him about Cedric’s comments,how his father’s voice grated on me with its constant reminders: “An heir is essential,Damion.What is your legacy without one?” Damion had looked at me then,blue eyes dark with frustration.“Enough,Isabelle.I don’t need you telling me what he thinks.I hear it every day.” I wanted to tell him it wasn’t just his father’s voice—it was the voice of society,the whispers at every event,the looks that burned into my back when people thought I couldn’t see.I was the barren wife,the woman who failed to fulfill her purpose.But I swallowed the words,choosing silence over another fight. A sound from the hallway pulls me back to the present.I wait,holding my breath,half-expecting to hear his footsteps,to see Damion standing in the doorway with regret in his eyes.But there’s nothing.The emptiness stretches on,cold and unforgiving. With a shaky sigh,I grab my suitcase and walk to the living room.It feels strange,leaving the house I once called home,with its memories of laughter and quiet mornings.I pause by the table,picking up a pen and paper.The words come slowly,but they are my final tether to him. Damion, You took everything from me tonight—the life we built,the dreams we shared.But I’m walking away because clinging to what’s left would destroy me more than this moment ever could.I hope you find whatever it is you’re searching for. Goodbye. I place the letter on the table and glance around one last time.The silence wraps around me like a shroud,and I know that when he reads those words,it will be too late. Just as I reach for the doorknob,my phone buzzes in my pocket.The sound jars me,breaking through the haze.I pull it out,blinking at the screen.A text from the hospital.My heart skips a beat as I read the words: Your mother’s condition is worsening.We need you here as soon as possible.

The sterile smell of antiseptic bites at my nose as I rush down the hospital hallway,my suitcase trailing behind me like a shadow.The weight of last night hangs heavily on my chest,pressing down with every step,threatening to crush me. My mother’s text is etched in my mind,the urgent call pulling me from one heartbreak and into another.When I reach the reception,I spot Dr.Mensah.His expression is grim as he steps out of my mother’s room,and my stomach twists. “Dr.Mensah,”I gasp,my voice thin with exhaustion.“How is she?” He looks at me for a moment,the furrow in his brow deepening.“Isabelle,I’m glad you came quickly.Your mother’s condition is worsening.We need to increase her treatment regimen,but that also means higher costs.” The room tilts,the weight of his words crashing into me.“I understand,”I say,trying to keep my voice steady.“But what about the funding from my—”I stop,the words catching in my throat.“From Damion?The arrangement we had should cover this.” Dr.Mensah’s expression hardens slightly,as though bracing himself.“I’m sorry,Isabelle.Mr.Ryder’s funding was withdrawn as of last night.” The words feel like a slap.“Last night?”I whisper,disbelief clawing at my chest.“Are you sure?” He nods solemnly.“I assumed you were aware.We need to know if you’ll be able to continue covering the expenses.” I swallow hard,tears stinging my eyes.“Yes,of course.Don’t worry,I’ll get the money.Please,just do whatever you need to keep her comfortable.” A flicker of relief passes over his face,and he squeezes my shoulder gently.“I trust you,Isabelle.But time is of the essence.I’ll let the nurses know we’re proceeding with the treatment.” I nod,a tight smile pulling at my lips,though it feels more like a grimace.As he walks away,I exhale shakily and push open the door to my mother’s room. The soft beeping of machines and the scent of medicinal antiseptic fill the air.Vivian Everett lies propped up on the bed,her once vibrant hair now a thinning halo of gray.Her eyes brighten when they meet mine,despite the hollowness that shadows her face. “Izzy,”she says,her voice raspy with exhaustion.A fit of coughing racks her body,and I rush to her side,setting down my suitcase. “Mom,you shouldn’t be talking so much,”I say softly,pressing her frail hand between mine. Her gaze shifts to the suitcase behind me,a worried crease forming on her forehead.“Why do you have that bag?Were you going somewhere?” I hesitate,the lie forming and dissolving in my mind within seconds.Should I tell her?No.She doesn’t need to know about Damion,about Kaia,about everything that’s falling apart. “I…was planning to take a short trip,”I say,forcing a smile.“But it doesn’t matter now.You’re my priority,Mom.” Her eyes search mine,filled with the quiet wisdom only a mother possesses.“Izzy,don’t sacrifice everything for me.I know things have been hard on you and Damion.” His name is a knife twisting in my chest,but I force my expression to remain calm.“Don’t worry about me,Mom.You just need to focus on getting better.” A wistful smile tugs at her lips.“You know,if your father were here,he’d be by your side through all of this.He was a fighter.You are,too.You got that from him.”Her gaze softens,distant.“I miss him every day.” A lump forms in my throat.“I do too,”I whisper.Memories of my father flood my mind—his steady presence,his unwavering support.He had a way of fixing everything,of making me believe that no storm was too big to weather. She sighs,squeezing my hand weakly.“Izzy,you’re stronger than you know.Whatever it is you’re carrying,whatever pain…it’s okay to share it.You don’t have to do everything on your own.” I blink back tears,unwilling to tell her the truth.That Damion has cast me aside,that the life I fought so hard to build has crumbled overnight.“I’ll be okay,Mom.I promise.” She closes her eyes,her chest trembling with a soft sigh as she drifts into a restless sleep.I sit beside her,letting the silence seep into me. The morning light filters through the blinds,exhaustion dragging at my limbs.I can’t break down now.I won’t. Later that day,I find myself standing in front of Damion’s company.The building looms over me like a fortress,its glass façade reflecting the storm brewing within me.My fingers shake as I push open the doors,but I straighten my spine and step inside.I’m not here as Damion’s wife.I’m here as a woman determined to survive. The familiar hum of phones ringing,the murmur of voices—it all brings back memories I wish I could erase.But I push them aside,focusing on why I’m here.I need this job,no matter the cost to my pride. The receptionist glances at me,her eyes widening slightly before she quickly schools her features.I offer her a curt nod and head toward the elevator bank,ignoring the stares and whispers that follow me. The elevator dings,and I see the doors starting to close.“Wait,please!”I call out,breaking into a small jog,my heels clicking against the marble floor.A hand darts out to pause the doors,and I slip inside,breathless. The air shifts,heavy with an unmistakable tension.I look up,and my heart plummets. Damion. He stands at the back of the elevator,his suit impeccably tailored,his presence commanding as ever.His blue eyes meet mine,a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before his expression hardens. The doors close behind me with a soft thud,trapping us in a space too small for the memories that flood back in an instant.My heart hammers in my chest,each beat a painful reminder of what was and what will never be again. “Hey,”I say,my voice barely above a whisper. “Hey,”he replies,his tone formal,distant.

The hum of the elevator fills the silence between us,a tangible reminder of the chasm that has grown between our lives. We say nothing to each other.The silence is thick,oppressive,almost suffocating.I keep my eyes fixed on the illuminated floor numbers,counting them like seconds ticking down to some inevitable conclusion.Each ding echoes with memories I’d rather forget.Damion stands behind me,his presence looming like a shadow.The air seems to thicken with every passing moment,weighted down by all the words we’ll never say. I want to speak,to break the tension,but my throat is dry,and my palms are clammy with sweat.My heart races,my body betraying the panic I’m trying so desperately to suppress. Suddenly,the elevator jolts.The lights flicker as it slows abruptly,sending me stumbling backward.Before I can regain my footing,strong arms wrap around me,steadying me against the hard line of his chest.His touch burns through the fabric of my blouse,warm and steady,and for a moment,I forget how to breathe. “Are you alright?”Damion’s voice is low,deep,and uncomfortably close.His tone is firm,almost commanding,but there’s a flicker of concern that catches me off guard. I tilt my head up,and for a fleeting second,our eyes meet.The mask he’s worn for so long slips just a little,and I see something there—something real.Concern.Regret.Pain?My heart aches at the sight,a bittersweet reminder of what we once shared. “I’m fine,”I manage to whisper,my cheeks reddening as I step out of his hold,putting as much distance between us as the small space will allow. The scent of his cologne lingers in the air between us,warm and familiar.My breath catches.It’s the one I gave him for our anniversary.Why would he wear it today?The thought stirs a thousand questions I can’t afford to ask.Is he not over me?Is this just a coincidence?Or something more? The elevator dings,cutting through the tension like a blade.Damion steps out first,his posture rigid,his stride purposeful.He doesn’t look back.The moment stretches painfully as I watch him walk away,leaving me alone in the hollow silence of the elevator as the doors close behind him. I exhale shakily,the tightness in my chest unraveling just a fraction.Before I can collect myself,a wave of nausea rolls over me,sharp and sudden.Panic flares as I press the emergency stop button and rush out at the next floor,barely making it to the nearest bathroom.The cold tile bites at my knees as I lean over the sink,the world spinning around me. The harsh fluorescent light reflects my pale,clammy face in the mirror.My heart pounds,and for a moment,I don’t recognize the woman staring back at me.Her wide eyes brim with worry,her shoulders sag under the weight of too many unanswered questions. A thought creeps into my mind,cold and abrupt.I can’t remember the last time I had my period.A shiver runs down my spine—not from the cold but from the sudden surge of possibility.Could it be? The idea seems absurd.After all the pain,the disappointment,the endless nights of hopeless prayers—could it really be happening now?My hands tremble as I rinse my mouth and splash water on my face,shaking the thought away.I can’t let myself believe it.Not yet.Not until I’m sure. The interview passes in a haze.The questions,the stares,the curious glances—all background noise to the drumbeat of uncertainty in my mind.I force myself to smile and nod in all the right places,my answers mechanical,automatic,while my thoughts keep drifting back to the bathroom and the possibility that terrifies and excites me in equal measure. As soon as I’m done,I leave the building,the cool breeze outside a welcome reprieve against my flushed skin.My legs move on autopilot,carrying me to the nearest pharmacy.The shelves blur as I scan for what I need,my hands trembling as I grab a pregnancy test.My fingers feel foreign,disconnected,as I place it on the counter. The cashier offers me a polite smile.I don’t return it.My mind is too occupied with the weight of what I’m about to confirm. The test lies on the bathroom counter,the seconds ticking by as I pace the small space.Each heartbeat feels like a countdown,the anticipation almost suffocating.My chest rises and falls with shallow breaths as I try to prepare myself for the answer.I close my eyes,take a deep breath,and finally look. Two lines.Clear.Unmistakable. A soft gasp escapes my lips,my hand flying to cover my mouth.The shock is overwhelming,giving way to a rush of emotions I can’t contain.Tears spill over,this time not out of pain,but disbelief and cautious joy.My hand shakes as I reach for another test,determined to see it again,to be sure. Minutes pass,slower than the years I spent yearning for this moment.The result is the same—positive.A laugh bubbles up in my chest,part disbelief,part overwhelming emotion.I press a hand to my stomach,the realization sinking in. I’m pregnant.After everything,I’m pregnant. The room seems to brighten as the shadows of the past lift in the wake of this newfound hope.For the first time in what feels like forever,I smile without restraint,a genuine smile that reaches deep into my heart. But reality isn’t far behind.The implications of this moment unfurl like a storm on the horizon.Damion.How will he react?Should I even tell him?The questions circle like vultures,pecking at the edges of my joy. The memory of last night—the coldness in his eyes,Kaia’s triumphant smirk—flickers through my mind,threatening to drown the happiness surging in my veins. I take a deep breath,grounding myself.This moment is mine.No one can take it from me.Not Damion,not Kaia,not the past.Whatever happens next,I’ll face it on my terms. For now,I have to tell Damion.Whether he deserves to know or not,he’s the father.

The hallway is quiet,the hum of computers and low conversations giving way to the evening exodus as employees file out for the day.The silence stretches,interrupted only by the occasional sound of footsteps fading into the distance. I clutch the strap of my purse tighter,my heartbeat drumming a wild rhythm.Each step toward Damion’s office feels heavier than the last,my nerves tangling into knots.I shouldn’t be here,sneaking past his assistant’s empty desk,but the urgency in my chest won’t let me wait any longer. The golden light of sunset filters through the high windows,casting long,fractured shadows across the polished floor.I reach the door,already ajar,and push it open just enough to slip inside. The sight before me freezes me in place. Kaia stands close to Damion,her smile sharp as she leans toward him,her fingers brushing his tie with the ease of someone who has practiced the gesture countless times.Their faces are inches apart,and the easy familiarity between them feels like a slap to my face.My stomach clenches,jealousy entwined with a pain so fierce it nearly doubles me over. “Damion,”I say,sharper than I intended.The sound of my voice slices through the room,and they both look up—Kaia’s expression smug,Damion’s startled.For a moment,something flickers in his blue eyes.Guilt?Surprise?It vanishes quickly,replaced by his usual icy detachment. His brows pull together in irritation.“Isabelle,”he says,his tone clipped.“What are you doing here?Who let you in?” Kaia tilts her head,her smirk curling wider.“It’s after hours,darling.You should’ve known to lock the door.Clearly,we’re not safe from uninvited guests.” I ignore her,forcing myself to stand taller even as my knees threaten to buckle beneath me.“I need to talk to you,”I say,my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.My gaze doesn’t waver from Damion.“Alone.” Kaia rolls her eyes,brushing her hair over her shoulder with exaggerated annoyance.“If this isn’t the perfect example of bad timing,”she drawls,turning to Damion.“I’ll be right outside.” Damion hesitates,his gaze flickering between us.Finally,he nods,and Kaia saunters out,throwing me a mocking glance as she closes the door behind her.The sound of the latch clicking feels like the prelude to a battle. The room is suffocating with just the two of us.The silence thickens,the tension sharp enough to cut. Damion folds his arms,leaning back against his desk,his expression cold.“Make it quick,Isabelle.I don’t have time for whatever this is.” I take a deep breath,ignoring the sting of his words.“I came to tell you something important,”I begin.The excitement and hope that had carried me here falter under his scrutiny,but I press on.“I’m pregnant,Damion.” For a moment,time seems to stop.The air between us crackles,charged with an energy that’s neither relief nor joy.His expression remains unreadable,and then,slowly,a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Pregnant,”he repeats,the word rolling off his tongue like it’s poison.“Is this your latest scheme,Isabelle?Your desperate attempt to win me back?” The fragile flame of hope flickering inside me is snuffed out in an instant.“What?No—this isn’t a scheme.I thought you’d want to know because—” “Because what?”He steps forward,his eyes narrowing,his tone dripping with sarcasm.“Because you think this will change everything?That I’ll suddenly forget the past year,the failures,and take you back?You’re so desperate,it’s almost laughable.How can you be pregnant?Can a barren woman suddenly un-barren herself?” The insult is a slap to my face.My breath catches,and for a moment,I can’t speak.“You think I’d lie about something like this?”My voice trembles with disbelief.“Damion,I’m telling you the truth.This isn’t manipulation—this is our child.” He shakes his head,a humorless chuckle escaping his lips.“You’re unbelievable.You expect me to believe that after everything,you show up here,uninvited,with this fairy tale?I’m not falling for it,Isabelle.I’m done with your games.” His words pierce me,each one a blow to the fragile hope I’d nurtured.My vision blurs with tears.“This isn’t a game to me,”I whisper,the tremor in my voice betraying the pain tightening around my chest.“I thought you’d care.I thought,for a moment,that the man I loved might still be in there somewhere.” “Loved,”he scoffs,crossing his arms over his chest.“You don’t know what love is,Isabelle.If you did,you wouldn’t be here trying to manipulate me with tales of a baby that may or may not even be mine—or worst of all,doesn’t even exist.” His accusation cuts deep,a blade twisting in my heart.The room spins,and I take a shaky step back.“I shouldn’t have come,”I murmur,more to myself than to him.“I shouldn’t have believed there was any part of you that still cared.” I turn,my hand fumbling for the door handle as tears spill freely down my cheeks.The dam I’d been holding inside breaks,and before I can say anything else,I push the door open and step out into the hall.The cool air of the corridor feels sharp against my flushed face,but it does nothing to quell the storm inside me. Kaia stands nearby,her arms crossed and a smug smile playing on her lips.“Didn’t go as planned,did it,Izzy?”she calls,her voice sweet and venomous. I don’t look back.My feet carry me forward,down the hall and out the front doors of the building,each step faster than the last.The sky has darkened,heavy with the promise of rain. The first drops fall as I step outside,cold and stinging against my skin.But I keep moving,the rain turning into a torrential downpour that soaks me within moments.It’s as though the sky itself doesn’t want to see my tears,so it weeps along with me. I stumble to the edge of the street,my vision blurred with tears and rain,gasping for breath as sobs wrack my body.The weight of the moment crushes me,the realization that I am alone in this—that the one person I thought I could still reach is beyond my grasp. Suddenly,my phone buzzes in my pocket.The vibration shakes through me like a lightning strike.I pull it out with trembling hands,blinking against the rain to read the screen.It’s the hospital. The voice on the other end is calm,detached,but the words that follow shatter what little is left of me. “Isabelle,we are sorry to inform you that your mother has just passed away.”

The rain pounds against the pavement as I stand on the edge of the street,my body drenched and trembling.My phone slips from my numb fingers,hitting the ground with a soft thud.The words from the hospital still echo in my mind:“Your mother has just passed away.” A sob tears through my chest,raw and uncontrollable,blending with the relentless downpour.The world around me feels blurred and meaningless.First Damion,now this—how much more can I lose before there’s nothing left of me? I drop to my knees,the cold water soaking through my clothes as my fingers fumble to pick up my phone.I clutch it tightly,my breaths shallow and panicked.Somewhere in the haze of my thoughts,a sliver of resolve flickers to life.I can’t fall apart here—not in front of Damion’s building,not with Kaia’s smug face probably watching from a window. My mother wouldn’t have wanted me to crumble.I need to go to her—to say goodbye,even if it’s too late. The cab ride to the hospital feels like an eternity,my heart pounding in rhythm with the wipers slashing against the windshield.When I finally step into the sterile halls,the familiar scent of antiseptic and faint despair hits me like a punch.I clutch my purse tighter,steeling myself for what’s to come. A nurse leads me to my mother’s room,her expression kind but professional.As I step inside,my chest tightens.The room is unnaturally still,the machines silent.My mother lies there,her frail body wrapped in a blanket that seems too big for her now.Her face is peaceful,almost serene,and for a moment,I let myself believe she’s just sleeping. I sink into the chair beside her,my hand trembling as I reach out to touch hers.Her skin is cold,the warmth of life gone.Tears stream down my face,unstoppable,as I lean forward and whisper,“I’m so sorry,Mom.I should’ve been here sooner.I should’ve—” “I’m sorry,”I say through a sob,clutching her hand.“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.” I stay like that for what feels like an eternity,the weight of the moment pressing down on me.Grief wraps itself around me,suffocating and relentless. A knock on the door jolts me from my despair.I wipe at my tear-streaked face and turn toward the sound.A man in a sharp black suit stands in the doorway,his posture stiff but composed.His presence feels entirely out of place in this moment of loss,and suspicion flickers in my mind. “Ms.Everett?”he asks,his tone polite but firm. “Yes?”My voice is hoarse,barely audible. He steps inside,closing the door softly behind him.“My name is Robert Hayes.I’m an attorney representing your late mother’s estate.” “Her estate?”I echo,blinking in confusion.“There’s nothing to represent.She didn’t have an estate—she couldn’t even pay her hospital bills.” Robert’s expression remains calm,though a hint of unease flickers in his eyes.“That’s not entirely true,Ms.Everett.Your mother held a substantial inheritance from your late father,valued at approximately ONE BILLION DOLLARS.” The words land like a thunderclap,making my head spin.“What?”I whisper,my voice barely audible.“That’s impossible.She never said anything—why wouldn’t she use it for her treatment?” Robert hesitates,his lips pressing into a thin line.“Your mother made the inheritance conditional,placing it in a trust.The funds were given to your husband,Mr.Ryder,to manage until such time as…”He pauses,his gaze shifting uncomfortably. “Until what?”I demand,my voice rising with frustration. “Until such time as your marriage to Mr.Ryder is legally dissolved.” The room seems to tilt,and I grip the edge of the chair for support.“What are you talking about?Why would she do that?” Robert’s expression softens,but his tone remains professional.“Your mother believed in the sanctity of marriage,Ms.Everett.She hoped the trust would incentivize Mr.Ryder to support and protect you,as your father would have wished.And to some extent,he did.” My heart pounds,confusion giving way to anger.“What do you mean by‘he did’?” “Mr.Ryder has been utilizing portions of the trust to assist with expenses—both for you and your mother.From my understanding,the funds went toward medical bills,your shared home,and other living costs,”Robert explains carefully.“However,the trust is specific in how and when the remaining funds are distributed.” I press my fingers to my temples,the pieces clicking into place with a sickening clarity.Damion—he’d been holding the bulk of the inheritance hostage,all while making himself appear like a savior.And now he expected me to be grateful? Before I can say anything,another knock at the door startles us both.The door swings open,and my heart drops as Damion strides into the room.His presence is as commanding as ever,his tailored suit immaculate despite the late hour.His expression is cold,calculated—a stark contrast to the storm raging inside me. “What are you doing here?”I demand,rising from the chair.My voice trembles with a mix of anger and disbelief. “I could ask you the same thing,”Damion says smoothly,his eyes flicking to Robert before settling back on me.“But it seems we have unfinished business to discuss.” Robert clears his throat,stepping forward.“Mr.Ryder,this is highly inappropriate.Ms.Everett has just lost her mother—” “I’m not here for pleasantries,”Damion cuts him off,his tone sharp.He pulls a folder from his briefcase and places it on the table with a deliberate thud.“Isabelle,I need you to sign these documents.” I glance at the folder,my stomach twisting.“What are they?” “An amendment to the trust,”he says casually,as if we’re discussing the weather.“It will finalize the allocation of the inheritance—for our benefit.” I freeze.“For‘our’benefit?”My voice rises.“Don’t you mean yours?You’re only here because you need my signature.This isn’t about me—it’s about you.” Damion’s jaw tightens,his calm exterior slipping for just a moment.“Isabelle,don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.I’ve been managing this money for years—handling your mother’s medical costs,maintaining the home we shared.I deserve compensation for my efforts.” My stomach churns with disbelief.“Compensation?What are you even saying?” Damion takes a step closer,his gaze cold and unflinching.“I want ninety percent of the inheritance.” The air leaves my lungs,and I stare at him,stunned.“What?!”