Boss, Your Ex-Wife is Unreachable Now! novel Chapter 33

Without warning, Willow's petite nose smacked hard against Beasley's Adam's apple, drawing a pained grunt from him.

His hands instinctively gripped her shoulders to steady her.

At the same time, the faint trace of her unique scent drifted into his senses. He remembered that fragrance all too well—especially from that chaotic night four years ago. Even when his mind had been clouded by drugs, that soft aroma had seared itself into his memory.

Now, with their bodies pressed close together, the air between them thrummed with an undeniable tension.

Caught off guard, Beasley found himself recalling that elusive scent.

But Willow's mind went completely blank from the sudden collision. As his large hands settled on her shoulders, her body stiffened, then trembled. She couldn't make a sound—her throat seemed blocked, raw with pain and panic.

Beasley noticed her reaction almost immediately; after all, they were standing so close he only had to dip his head to brush his lips against her hair.

She was shaking.

Why?

This kind of physical reaction was too instinctive to fake.

Frowning in confusion, Beasley lowered his gaze to check on her—but before he could, Willow shoved him away with unexpected force.

Off balance, Beasley stumbled back a step and let go of her shoulders.

His sharp, icy eyes caught a glimpse of Willow's face as she turned quickly away. It was only for a split second, but he caught the flash of pain, saw the way she gulped for air.

And sure enough, as soon as she turned her back, Willow doubled over, retching dryly.

A fresh layer of frost shadowed Beasley's handsome features, washing away the flicker of concern that had just begun to surface.

How could he forget? She was still carrying another man's bastard.

Ha.

He almost let her fool him again.

"Have you gotten yourself checked?"

He stood there, unmoving, his voice as cold and sharp as steel.

Willow's stomach churned, her throat raw—she didn't have it in her to respond.

"This is a hospital. Do you need me to—"

"No!" Willow cut him off, sinking down into a crouch to fight the rising nausea.

Thank God she hadn't eaten dinner yet, or she would've lost it right there.

That night, Willow had nightmares again—no surprise there.

Maybe it was the brief, accidental contact in the hospital corridor that had triggered her, but she found herself reliving that old terror: nearly being attacked by those three foreigners.

She'd fought with everything she had, screaming and struggling, but it hadn't mattered. If not for their twisted desire to toy with her, chasing her around like a cat playing with a mouse, she never would have gotten the chance to escape to the balcony.

Outside, she'd seen nothing but the endless sea—no help in sight. Her attackers were certain she'd never dare to jump.

They reveled in her fear, savoring the moment their prey was cornered and hopeless.

They weren't human. Neither were the ones pulling their strings—they were monsters, all of them.

When Willow jolted awake, heart racing, she didn't dare go back to sleep. She sat curled up in her blanket, waiting for dawn to come.

...

By eight the next morning, Willow received a message from her ex-father-in-law, Vincent.

She'd already been at her computer for more than three hours, tapping out lines of code.

Setting her phone aside, she closed her laptop and headed to the bathroom to wash up. She dabbed on a bit of makeup to hide the dark circles beneath her eyes, then changed into fresh clothes and finally stepped out the door.