Her Divorce Lawyer Want Her novel Chapter 63

Chapter 63

Ryan thought for a second. “Depends how you play it.”

Freya shot him a blank look. “What?”

“What if that baby in Natalie’s belly isn’t even Liam’s? Don’t tell me you’d melt and go crawling back.”

“No way in hell,” she fired back. “Our mess goes way beyond just her. It’s…”

Then it clicked–that blurry pic of her and Thomas staggering out of the hotel? Yeah, Ryan was the one who took it.

She was flat–out baffled by him at this point.

“Mr. Reed, level with me–how do you know so damn much?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Exhibit A?”

“That whole hotel deal with Thomas. You just happened‘ to stroll by and snag those misleading shots? That area’s total sticks. isn’t it? What was Ryan the golden boy doing out there at the ass–crack of dawn? Not exactly your scene.”

She held up a finger, barreling on. “And the Natalie pregnancy bombshell. I didn’t even clock the possibility it might not be his–why’d you jump there?”

Suddenly, her hackles were up. “Okay, what’s your real angle here?”

Ryan’s gaze dropped, lips quirking into a knowing smirk. “Your call. What do you think I’m gunning for?”

“Wait… you aren’t, like, actually bi, are you?”

Ryan was speechless.

“Shit, then you’ve had it rough. She gets married, you wait around forever. He jumps the broom, same deal. Mr. Reed, you’re hands–down the unluckiest bi in history.”

Spotting that genuine pity in her eyes, Ryan felt a chill crawl up his spine.

He frowned. “Enough with the nonsense.”

“Mr. Reed, one more question.”

“Hit me.”

Freya fixed him with a stare. “If you hate my guts, why’d you have my back today?”

Word of Sherri’s death had barely hit, and Ryan was already wheels up.

He’d sent his pal Darrick straight to the vet to secure the scene–lock down the body before evidence could get tampered with–while rushing her onto the first flight back to Haventon.

Touchdown in Haventon? No downtime–right to an expert for the cause–of–death rundown.

And back at the estate, when she’d snapped and squared off against Joseph and Madison? He’d been her shield the whole

damn time.

12:42 pm pp

Chapter 63

Joseph lunged for her what felt like a dozen times, but Ryan pinned him down like a pit bull on lockdown.

“You’re on the team now, Ryan said coolly, “Can’t risk you going rogue and dragging the Wesley Hotel’s name through the mud.”

Freya was speechless.

“Lame excuse, hub?”

Freya said, “You could’ve just said you’re Jesus.

“So why help me?”

Ryan didn’t answer, just inched closer.

One arm braced on her seatback, the other hand flat against the window–he had her pinned like a spider in its web.

“Freya, what kind of answer are you fishing for?”

She squirmed, craning her neck away. “Hell if I know. You’re the one who should be spilling.”

He closed the gap a hair more. “Subconscious is usually the truth serum. So, why do you reckon I stepped in?”

Crack!

No swoony admission–just her palm stinging his cheek.

It smarted, but she pulled the punch.

His head snapped to the side.

She shoved him off with everything she had and barked, “Back off, demon! Whatever you are, vacate Ryan’s body–right this second!”

Ryan exhaled a silent breath and slid back to his side.

Freya blew out a huff. “Mr. Reed, something straight–up possessed you just now. Gave me the creeps.”

Ryan shot her a sidelong glance. “That scary, huh?”

“Not like horror–movie scary. Just… greasy. The kind that makes your skin crawl.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Greasy ghost?”

“Dunno. But it was a far cry from your everyday self.”

“Everyday self how?”

“You know–barbs, shade, orders, nitpicking.”

He rubbed his temple, half–smirking in defeat. “So I’m the villain in your story?”

“Not full–on villain. Just… obviously not your favorite person. But that vibe earlier? Greasy, yeah, but those eyes… might actually be into me?”

Ryan’s eyes lifted slowly.

like you

12:42 pm P

Chapter 63

༠ས་

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Freya barked a laugh. “Right–like you’d ever go for me. You’re Ryan. So, yeah, something shady must’ve jumped your body

She craned her neck, peering into the dark outside.

Another upscale villa neighborhood, the car idling in the driveway.

The witching hour–dead quiet, lights scarce, broken only by some bird’s unearthly squawk. Straight–up spooky.

“Better call in someone to sage the place soon,” she said. “Can’t rule out some poltergeist bullshit.”

Ryan gaped at her, at a loss. “You’d sooner bet on the supernatural than me liking you for real?”

Freya lifted a shoulder. “Call it sound judgment.”

“More like playground logic. Even grade–schoolers know ghosts are fake.”

She thumped her chest like she’d dodged a bullet. “Whew–there you go, back to jabs. Crisis averted; the invader’s bounced.”

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