Divorce Me Before Death Takes Me, CEO

Chapter 163

Blake's POV

| stood on the busy New York street outside the coffee shop, arranging for my driver. The morning crowd

streamed past while | maintained my composure, though internally | was furious at the pathetic show I'd just

witnessed.

“Blake darling!”

Laurel rushed out of the café, breathless and desperate. | spared her a cold glance before returning to my phone.

Soon, a black sedan pulled up. Without acknowledging her, | opened the door.

Before | could get in, Laurel darted forward and slipped into the backseat. | hesitated, then climbed in after her,

keeping my distance.

As we pulled away, Laurel broke the silence. “Blake darling, you changed cars today? Where's your black sedan?

*

I'd planned to ignore her, but her question caught my attention.

“Car accident. It’s being repaired,” | replied flatly, watching her reaction.

Laurel relaxed, not noticing my trap. “When did that happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”

| turned toward her and pointed to my bandaged head.

“Last night,” | said evenly.

Her eyes widened with practiced shock. “Oh my God! What happened? Why didn’t you call me? | could have - *

“No time,” | cut her off. “You seem concerned about last night's accident... Do you know what kind of car

crashed on the

beach?”

Laurel froze. Her eyes darted away as her lips trembled. After a moment, she managed: “It was... a black car.”

A mocking smile touched my lips. Had | given her so much trust that she thought | was this gullible?

“Blake darling, I'm sorry,” Laurel whispered, clutching my arm as tears filled her eyes.

“What exactly are you sorry for?” | asked.

“I shouldn't have lied,” she said, voice quivering. “I already knew from online rumors that it was Miss Sinclair and

Ethan

Davies in the accident.”

She wiped her tears. “But Miss Sinclair was your wife for three years...”

“I was afraid you couldn’t handle that your ex-wife was with a college boy at night,” she continued. “So | brought

you to NYU and had Jennifer find that actor. It was all my plan.”

More tears fell. “I wanted to break the news gently about Ethan and Audrey’s deaths. | didn’t expect it would

backfire.

“I realize now | shouldn't have done this. You're too smart, Blake darling. | just wanted to tell you with good

intentions, but it turned into a mess.”

0g

| watched her performance with disgust and curiosity. Her remorse seemed so convincing. If | hadn't been in that

accident. myself, | might have believed her.

“Tell me,” | asked quietly, “how did you find out it was Audrey and Ethan in the accident?”

| knew the answer already. When police arrived, Audrey and | were gone. Witnesses would have seen us, not

Ethan. Only those men in the black SUVS could have mistakenfor Ethan.

Laurel paused, then smiled. “Jennifer told me.”

She looped her arm through mine, voice playful. “You know I'm busy with scripts and rehearsals. | don’t have

tfor

news.”

“Jennifer said the victims were likely Miss Sinclair and Ethan Davies. | was shocked too, but worried more about

how you'd take it, so...”

She looked down regretfully. “I know | was wrong. | should have been honest.”

| studied her carefully, weighing every word. Finally, | sighed and turned away without responding. My silence

seemed to unsettle her more than any accusation.

Audrey's POV

| rushed into Original Studio, clutching my design portfolio. My heart raced with anticipation as | hurried to

George Mei’s office and knocked.

“I'm ready. Are we leaving for the meeting now?”

To make it here, I'd thrown money at the taxi driver, offering double for speed. This meeting with the partner

company was crucial, and | didn’t want my personal issues to interfere.

George looked up, surprised. “Didn't James tell you? Today's meeting is canceled.”

I blinked. “Canceled?”

George nodded. “The executives had personal matters. We'll wait for their notification about the next meeting.”

My excitement collapsed. I'd worked relentlessly on these designs, and now the meeting vanished without

warning.

Audrey,” George said gently, “in our industry, canceled meetings happen all the time.”

“I know,” I nodded, unable to hide my disappointment.

“Tell you what,” George offered, “since the meeting's off, take the day off. Get srest and clear your mind.”

| thanked him and left, my portfonow feeling heavy in my arms.

Outside, my phone rang. James called to informabout the canceled meeting. | managed a few short

responses, still

deflated.

As | hung up, my phone rang again. The Downtown Electronics Repair Shop owner called to say my old phone -

the one Laurel damaged was fixed and ready for pickup.

With nothing else scheduled, | decided to get my phone. | hailed a taxi and headed to Downtown.

Thirty minutes later, | stood in front of the repair shop. A familiar luxury sedan caught my eye across the street.

The door opened, and Jennifer Carson stepped out in a sharp black suit, striding purposefully toward the alley.

1 frowned. Why would Laurel's agent be in this old electronics district? But | had no desire to waste energy on

anything Laurel-related, so I turned toward the repair shop.

As | reached the entrance, | was surprised to see Jennifer at the counter, handing a phone to the shop owner.

“Can you check if you have a charging cable for this phone model?” she asked coldly.

The owner examined it while searching through cables. “Strange that this five-year-old model is suddenly

popular. | just repaired an identical one a few days ago.”

Curious, | glanced at the phone in Jennifer's hand. When | saw it, my body went rigid. My eyes widened and my

heart hammered against my ribs.

That phone was identical to Rachel Hayes’ from five years ago! Not just the smodel - it had the same

diamond decal on the side that I'd personally applied for Rachel.

Shock, confusion, and anger flooded through me. | lunged forward and grabbed Jennifer's wrist.

“This phone - where did you get it!?”

Jennifer jumped at my sudden appearance. When she turned and saw me, her face went white.

“Audrey Sinclair? You're supposed to be dead.”

| was too shocked by the phone to care about my “dead” status. The discovery overwhelmed everything else.

| grabbed the phone from her hand. My fingers trembled as | examined it.

Holy shit. This is Rachel's phone.

The diamond decal I'd stuck on years ago. The tiny dent on the right edge. Even the slight scratch across the

camera lens. Everything matched.

| pressed the power button. Nothing happened. Dead battery.

| looked up at Jennifer. “Where’d you get this phone?”

That snapped her out of her shock. She lunged for it.

“Give that back! It's mine!”

| tucked the phone against my chest, blocking her with my elbow.

“Yours?” | scoffed. “This belongs to Rachel Hayes. My friend who left the country four years ago.”

At Rachel's name, lennifer’s face drained of all color. “You're mistaken. | bought this five years ago.”

3/4

Chapter 163

She made another grab for it. “Give it back or I'm calling the cops!”

“Cops?” | laughed. “Perfect.”

“Call them. I'd love to hear you explain to the police where you got my friend's phone.”

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