No Second Chances Ex-husband (Lauren and Ethan) novel Chapter 118

throat.

CHAPTER 0118

ROMAN’S POV

With what I’d been able to dig up tonight, one thing stood out more than everything else Lauren had a daughter for her ex–husband, Ethan Black.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the screen like it had just revealed a secret file I was never supposed to see. My fingers slowly slid from the keyboard and rest against my chin, my mind racing through everything!

knew or thought I knew

So that’s it? That’s why she’s been, avoiding every question I’ve tried to ask her?

Because she didn’t want me to connect the dots. She didn’t want me to know that little Aria, the same little girl who had called her “mommy” in front of me, was Ethan’s daughter.

The thought made me exhale heavily, my jaw tightening as I processed it.

She works in my company, under me, and she’s perfectly aware that Ethan and I are on completely different sides of the line. Everyone knows it, our rivalry isn’t some hidden feud; it’s public knowledge in the business world. She must’ve thought that if I ever discovered her connection to him, I’d throw her out immediately.

I rubbed at my temple. Did she really think I was that petty? That I’d punish her for something as personal as her past marriage?

But still… that wasn’t all, was it? Because even if she feared I’d fire her, why avoid everything else? Why act like her personal life was this great wall I wasn’t allowed to peek over?

Maybe if I talked to her tomorrow, face–to–face, and told her that I already knew. That I knew, about her marriage, about Ethan… and that none of it made me angry. That I wasn’t planning to fire her, and I wasn’t judging her.

Maybe then she’d finally understand. Maybe then she’d breathe a little easier, stop treating me like an trying to pry open her secrets, and actually let me in.

The idea settled in my mind like a plan forming itself. Tomorrow. I’d tell her tomorrow.

enemy

I tapped the desk lightly with my fingers, a slow rhythm of thought. Nothing in life ever plays out the way you picture it in your head. You can plan, polish, and rehearse every single word, and somehow, reality finds a way to spin things differently.

Which was why I never operated with only one plan.

If she still refused… if she kept holding back even after I showed her she had nothing to fear, then I’d have not choice. I’d call my friend to do some digging

Pushing away from my desk, I let out a long sigh and put the computer to sleep. The glow of the screen faded, but I left the blog page open. Something told me I wasn’t done with it yet.

I turned off the light in the office and stepped into the quiet hallway of my home. Each step echoed softly against the polished floor as I headed for my room. It had been a long day, and though my body was heavy with exhaustion, my mind was anything but still. Tomorrow already played itself out in my head, the script of what

1/3

I’d say, the way she’d hopefully respond.

A part of me wanted to believe it would be that easy.

I pushed the thought aside and entered my room, letting the weight of the day finally drag me into bed. Sleep was the only thing I could do for now.

LAUREN’S POV

Just like the old days back in Italy, I found myself behind the wheel again, dropping my sweet girl off at school with my own car. The hum of the engine filled the silence between us, and Aria sat in the back, her little voice humming a tune I half recognized.

When I pulled up in front of her school, I leaned back against the seat for a second, watching her adjust her bag. She gave me a quick grin before hopping out, and just like always, she managed to draw attention without even trying. The car was, new, and stood out in front of the old school gates. People glanced over, their eyes narrowing, some with curiosity, others with envy.

I knew what they were thinking. What’s someone like her doing with a car like that?

But I didn’t care. Let them look. Let them wonder. Sometimes it’s good to stand out.

Once she disappeared through the gate, I adjusted the mirror and reversed out of the driveway.

My next stop was the office.

The steering wheel felt heavier beneath my hands as I muttered under my breath, “I hope I don’t forget to act sick. That’s what I told Roman yesterday, and I can’t slip up now.” My voice sounded flat, and the moment I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror, I blinked.

Am I seriously talking to myself?

A small laugh escaped, bitter and humorless. Frustration makes people do strange things, I guess.

The drive didn’t take long, and before I knew it, the glass structure of the building loomed over me. Yesterday evening, I’d sent a request to the manager, insisting on my own private parking space. It seemed excessive at the time, but today, when I pulled into the freshly designated spot, I felt a small rush of relief. At least one thing had gone my way.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, smoothed down my skirt, and walked toward the glass doors. The receptionist’s eyes

me instantly, and she waved me over with an eager s

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