My Coldhearted Ex demands a Remarriage by Eva Blackwood

Chapter 1119

Lise pulling a stunt like this would not have shocked her. Even Alethea, with her sharp edges, might have made sense. But Jacob and Kelsey? The thought made her stomach twist.

Her own family, willing to gamble her life for their gain—staging a crisis just to swoop in as saviors? The idea felt like a blade.

Jacob caught the cold glint in her eyes, reading her suspicion as clearly as if she had spoken it aloud.

He let out a soft laugh, his posture relaxed despite the tension. “Yes, I sent them,” he admitted, his voice calm as he spread his hands. “Their boss tipped me off about the situation. I was not certain of the details, so I covered my bases. While I headed to the station, I asked their people to look into it. All I told them was to confirm Ms. Campbell’s whereabouts and safety. Nothing more.”

Before Reece or the team leader could respond, a junior officer jumped in, his words tumbling out. “That is what they said, sir. At first, they were tight-lipped, but when we mentioned charges like kidnapping or assault—serious time—they panicked. They swore they only took money to check on Ms. Campbell’s wellbeing.”

“My apologies for the confusion,” he said earnestly. “Age is catching up with me, and my memory is not what it used to be. In my rush to get the information to you, I forgot to mention

they were only there to observe. No word of orders from Mr. Dury. We searched them—nothing on them suggests foul play. Just a pair of washed-up drunks, their bodies wrecked from years of booze, cards,

had held back from pressing Jacob too hard, wary of tipping his hand. An apology

He played his cards close. Men of their caliber thrived on subtlety, masking intentions behind practiced

imagination takes flight on

a quiet anchor. “Time for a check-up,” he murmured, his voice soft as a whisper of wind. “The police will handle the

our word. We will leave no stone unturned to find the true culprit and unravel this mess. An attack like this in Isonridge? It threatens our people and

offered a nod, his arm steadying Carrie as they stepped forward. “We trust the police to get it done,” he said, his tone carrying the

others, such words might ring hollow, mere pleasantries exchanged in passing. But from the Morrison family,

was no mere cultural group; it was a force, woven into Mothor’s fabric, tasked with