Divorce Me Before Death Takes Me, CEO

Chapter 65

Audrey’s POV

Blake’s words were heavy with implications. I opened my mouth to respond, but the words died in my throat as memories of our earlier encounter flooded

back.

“No, I…” The rest of my sentence dissolved into silence as Blake smoothly exited the car. Before I could process what was happening, he’d circled around to my side, opening the door with practiced elegance.

The night air hit my face, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the car’s interior. But before I could step out, strong arms slipped beneath my knees and behind my back, lifting me with effortless grace.

A startled gasp escaped my lips as I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck for balance. The familiar scent of him wrapped around me like a forgotten memory.

A hint of satisfaction flickered across his features as we approached my building.

“Didn’t you say that you’d be better off without me?” His voice carried a particular blend of arrogance and amusement. “You’ve lost weight again. Too much.”

Hearing his words, I found myself sinking deeper into his embrace, my head finding that perfect spot between his shoulder and neck that felt like it had been carved just for me.

I should explain. Should struggle. Should maintain the boundaries I’d so carefully constructed when I’d moved out. After all, this was the man who’d already planned his engagement party to another woman. The man who’d made it clear, time and time again, that our marriage meant nothing.

But five years of loving him, three years of marriage, two periods of devoted care – during his blindness and later his coma – had left their mark on my heart. I couldn’t just erase that kind of muscle memory with logic alone. Each remembered moment of care felt like another crack in my carefully constructed walls.

Focus, I reminded myself sternly. I needed to play this carefully if I wanted Snow back.

Knowing Blake’s nature, if I pushed too hard about Snow’s whereabouts like I had about the divorce, I’d end up with the same result – nothing. I could wait him out on the divorce until his engagement to Laurel forced his hand, but Snow was different.

He’d never liked her, always sneering when he saw me holding her, suggesting I get rid of her. One wrong move, one hint of defiance, and he might just do exactly that.

in my apartment complex flickered weakly as he carried me through the doorway. Despite Astrid’s earlier attempts at tidying up, her chaotic nature was evident everywhere – books stacked at odd angles, throw pillows arranged with more enthusiasm than skill, everything just slightly off- kilter. Her efforts had somehow made the modest space

Blake’s lip curled as he took in the surroundings, his disdain palpable. “and this is where

cradled in his arms, I felt heat rise to my cheeks.

every penny of his “allowance” had gone to experimental cancer treatments and

him. “Home? All I

I could create any distance between us, his weight pressed me deeper into the cushions. His fingers found my hoodie’s

yanked at my hoodie’s collar, exposing more skin. His mouth descended on my neck with bruising intensity, deliberately

the ones he’d just made with those from the spa.

smile tugged at my lips despite everything. Who would have thought? Blake Parker – New York’s

1/3

Chapter 65

amusement, darkening dangerously. Before I could process his reaction, his hand gripped my jaw, tilting my face up as his mouth claimed mine

the room seemed to spike as the kiss deepened. Everything else faded away – the

all about me by now,” he breathed against my ear, his voice rough with desire. “Living such an… entertaining

drawing a gasp from my lips. “But you’re still just as responsive

quickening breaths, “I need to

held

through the haze of desire, I hadn’t forgotten my

in his dark eyes. “So all this… enthusiasm,” his voice dropped to a silken purr, “is for a

met his gaze through half–lidded eyes, letting my lips curve into the kind of smile I knew would get under his skin. “Yes.” My legs tightened around his waist deliberately, drawing him closer as I whispered,

to push, what responses would feed

his features as he examined my flushed face. “Well then,” he murmured, his voice rough with

intensity, stealing any response I might have made. The small living room seemed to shrink around

patterns across my ceiling as consciousness slowly returned. Every muscle in my body protested as I forced my eyes open, only to find Blake already dressed in an impeccable silver–gray suit, lounging in my

awake.” It wasn’t a