Hell Hath no fury like a billionaire’s Ex Chapter 77

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Chapter 77

The hope I’d allowed myself to feel as Joan and I finished our conversation wasn’t enough to quiet my racing mind that night. My hand rested on my heavy belly as I stared at the ceiling, the twins occasionally shifting beneath my palm. Tomorrow’s meeting with Guerrero loomed large in my thoughts—a pivotal moment that could change everything.

I must have finally drifted off, because the next thing I knew, early morning light was filtering through the curtains. I blinked awake to the sound of quiet movement downstairs. My mother was already up, likely making tea and preparing for the day ahead.

Joan and I had stayed up late reviewing the documents Sophie had obtained, our heads bent together over the table as we pieced together the extent of Liam’s financial crimes. The evidence was damning—offshore accounts, embezzled funds, property transfers all designed to hide assets not just from me, but from the company’s shareholders. My emotions about Sophie remained complicated, but I couldn’t deny the value of what she’d risked everything to obtain.

I showered quickly, choosing a navy blue maternity dress that projected both professionalism and confidence for the meeting with Guerrero. As I dressed, I noticed my phone lighting up with a text notification.

It was from Guerrero: Meeting location for privacy. The Transcorp Hotel, Suite 1542, 10:00 AM. Come alone or with only your legal counsel. Security will be discreet.

I texted back a simple confirmation and headed downstairs, finding my mother at the kitchen table nursing a cup of tea while Joan rifled through files at the dining table.

“Morning,” I said, pouring myself a glass of orange juice. “Guerrero sent the meeting location. The Transcorp Hotel at 10:00.”

Joan looked up, her hair slightly disheveled from what had clearly been an early morning review session. “Good. Upscale but private. Smart choice.”

My mother glanced at the clock on the wall. “You two should get going soon. You’ll want time to prepare before meeting him.”

I nodded, suddenly feeling the weight of what lay ahead. “Mom, Guerrero specifically mentioned security would be discreet. After what Liam’s tried already, I think we should be careful about which documents we bring.”

“She’s right,” Joan agreed, organizing papers into separate folders. “We should only take what’s directly related to Synergy Sphere’s finances. The house deed and the recording about Liam’s threats should stay here.”

My mother stood, coming over to squeeze my hand. “That’s wise. I’ll keep everything safe while you’re gone.”

There was a new solidarity between us since she’d delivered Sophie’s evidence. Whatever complicated history existed in our family, at that moment, she was simply my mother, concerned for my safety and determined to help me fight back against Liam.

“We didn’t prepare anything for breakfast,” my mother said, looking at the time. “You need to eat, especially in your condition.”

“We’ll grab something on the way,” Joan assured her, slipping the selected documents into her briefcase. “There’s a great little place near the Transcorp that makes amazing pastries.”

I hugged my mother goodbye, a gesture that felt both familiar and new in its warmth. “We’ll be back as soon as we’re done. I’ll text you updates if I can.”

“Just stay safe,” she replied, her eyes serious. “That’s all that matters now. And Diane—” She hesitated. “Remember what these documents mean. You have the upper hand now. Use it.”

I nodded, feeling a surge of determination. “I will.”

Joan and I headed out to her car, the morning air cool against my skin, we needed to leave the house early. As we drove, I filled her in on the details of Guerrero’s text.

“He’s being cautious,” Joan observed. “That’s good. Means he’s taking this seriously.”

“Do you think other board members will be there too?” I asked, nervousness fluttering in my stomach.

Joan nodded her head. “Yes of course, you just have to be calm ok, I believe they too would want to hear what you can offer to the company.”

We drove in silence for a while, each lost in our own thoughts. The city passed by outside the window, people hurrying to work, going about their normal lives, unaware of the high-stakes drama unfolding in mine.

“I’m starving,” Joan said suddenly, breaking the silence. “Mind if we stop? That place I mentioned is just up ahead.”

“Please,” I agreed, realizing I was hungry too. “The twins are demanding breakfast.”

Joan chuckled, pulling into a parking space across from a small, charming café called Madeleine’s. “Best croissants in the city,” she promised.

As we got out of the car, I noticed Joan’s posture stiffen slightly. Her head turned casually, but her eyes were sharp, scanning the street.

“What is it?” I asked quietly, immediately on alert.

Joan leaned in closer as we walked toward the café entrance. “Don’t look now, but there’s a man across the street. Dark jacket, sunglasses. He was watching us as we parked.”

My heart rate quickened. “You think he’s following us?”

“I don’t know,” Joan replied, her voice low and steady. “But let’s not take chances. Act natural, but stay alert.”

We entered the café, the cheerful bell above the door at odds with the sudden tension I felt. The place was warm and inviting, with the rich aroma of fresh pastries and coffee filling the air. Several tables were occupied with morning customers enjoying their breakfast.

“Joan!” The waitress behind the counter—a slender woman with cropped black hair—greeted us with genuine warmth. “Haven’t seen you in a while!”

“Hey, Maddie,” Joan smiled, but I could tell her attention was divided. “Been busy with work. This is my friend Diane.”

“Nice to meet you,” the waitress said, smiling at me. “What can I get for you two this morning?”

Joan ordered her usual—almond croissant and black coffee—while I scanned the menu. As I opened my mouth to order, I spotted movement at the door. The man Joan had noticed was entering the café.

He was tall, with broad shoulders under a dark jacket. The sunglasses still covered his eyes despite being indoors, and there was something deliberately casual about the way he moved—too studied, too careful.

Joan had spotted him too. I saw her subtly adjust her position, angling her body slightly to keep him in her peripheral vision.

Instead of ordering aloud, I leaned forward, lowering my voice. “Maddie, I need your help,” I said quietly, keeping my expression neutral. “The man who just walked in—I think he’s following us. Is there another way out of here?”

To her credit, Maddie didn’t react visibly beyond a slight widening of her eyes. She leaned in as if discussing menu options. “Through the kitchen, there’s a service door that leads to the alley,” she whispered. “Is he dangerous?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But my husband has been threatening me. We can’t take chances.”

Maddie nodded almost imperceptibly. “Let me get you seated with something to eat first. Act normal. I’ll call the police.”

She led us to a table near the back of the café, positioning us with a clear view of both the front door and the hallway leading to the restrooms and kitchen. “I’ll put in your orders right away,” she said in her normal voice, then added in a whisper, “There’s a dessert special today—I’ll bring you both a sample with a note about the exit.”

Joan squeezed my hand under the table as Maddie walked away. “Good thinking,” she murmured.

“I’m not taking any more chances,” I replied, my free hand protectively covering my belly. “Not with the twins.”

The man had taken a seat in the corner with a clear view of our table. He made a show of looking at his phone, but I could feel his attention on us.

I slipped my own phone out of my purse, angling it carefully. “I’m going to try to get a photo of him,” I whispered to Joan. “Evidence, in case we need it later.”

Pretending to check messages, I positioned the phone and snapped several pictures, hoping they weren’t too obvious or blurry.

Maddie returned quickly with Joan’s coffee and a small plate with pastry samples for each of us. As promised, a folded note was tucked discreetly beside mine. “Your orders will be ready to go in just a few minutes,” she said with a meaningful look.

I unfolded the note under the table: Kitchen door on left past restrooms. Exit to alley behind building. Police ETA 5 min. I’ll distract him.

I showed the note to Joan, who nodded slightly. We both took small bites of our pastries and sipped our drinks, trying to appear casual while planning our escape.

“When I stand up,” Joan murmured, “you follow right behind me like we’re heading to the restroom. Don’t look back, don’t hesitate.”

I nodded, my mouth dry despite the coffee. The weight of the twins suddenly felt more heavier, a reminder of what I was fighting to protect.

Maddie approached the man’s table, engaging him in what appeared to be a friendly conversation about the menu. As her body partially blocked his view of us, Joan stood up smoothly.

“Ready?” she whispered.

I nodded, rising as gracefully as my pregnant body would allow. We moved toward the hallway at the back, walking at a measured pace that wouldn’t draw attention. I could hear Maddie’s deliberate laughter, keeping the man engaged.

Once in the hallway, we quickened our steps, Joan leading the way past the restrooms to the kitchen door. The staff looked surprised as we entered but didn’t stop us as we headed for the service exit.

The alley behind the café was narrow and dimly lit despite the morning sun. Joan took my elbow, guiding me toward the street at the far end, away from where our car was parked.

“What about your car?” I asked, already slightly breathless from the pace.

“We’ll circle around,” Joan said, her lawyer instincts on full alert. “I want to make sure he’s not following us first.”

As we reached the end of the alley, the distant wail of police sirens reached us. Joan paused, peering carefully around the corner before guiding me onto the sidewalk of a parallel street.

“Let’s keep moving,” she urged. “The police will handle him if he’s still in the café, but I don’t want to take chances.”

We walked quickly for several blocks, taking a circuitous route that eventually brought us back to the street where Madeleine’s was located. From across the intersection, we could see police cars outside the café, lights flashing.

“Do we go back?” I asked, uncertain.

Joan shook her head. “No time. The meeting with Guerrero is too important. We’ll call the police later and file a report.”

She pulled out her phone, tapping quickly. “I’m calling a rideshare. We’ll go straight to the The Transcorp Hotel.”

As we waited for our ride, I couldn’t stop scanning our surroundings, the adrenaline still coursing through my system. “Do you think Liam sent him?” I asked quietly.

Joan’s expression was grim. “It seems likely. First the incident at the farmers market, now this? He’s escalating.”

“The photo,” I remembered, pulling out my phone. “I got several shots of him.”

We examined the pictures together. Despite my shaky hands, the images were clear enough—a man in his Thirties, broad-shouldered, with a scar visible along his jawline below the sunglasses.

“We’ll send these to the police,” Joan said. “This is evidence of harassment, at minimum.”

Our rideshare arrived, and we climbed in, Joan giving the driver the hotel address. As we pulled away, I caught sight of movement at the café entrance—police officers talking to Maddie. I couldn’t be certain from the distance, but I thought it might be about our follower or he probably got away before the police arrived.

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