Goodbye Forever Ex-Husband (by Ammund) novel Chapter 186

Chapter 186

Chapter 186

OLIVIA’S POV

“Just a second,” I said to

amien, holding up a hand as I took one last look at myself in the mirror.

907

The mask sat perfectly against my face, and I adjusted the strap gently, making sure it wouldn’t shift even if I had to turn quickly. My gaze dropped to my dress, tracing the way the fabric hugged my figure and flared at the hem. Everything had to be flawless today.

I glanced around the suite once more. Clara had done an impeccable job packing; every dress and accessory that wasn’t chosen had already been folded back into their cases. Nothing looked rushed or forgotten, which helped settle the small, nervous flutter in my chest.

I drew in a deep breath, letting it fill my lungs, then released it slowly. “Yes, let’s go,” I finally said, my voice steadier than I felt.

We stepped out into the hallway. Clara and the others were already waiting. As soon as they saw us, they moved with practiced efficiency: Clara stepped forward and handed me a small, matching clutch–deep red leather with a delicate gold clasp. Antonia gave my gown a final, thoughtful tug to perfect the fall of the skirt, and Lila leaned in, dabbing the lightest touch of powder over my cheeks to keep away any shine. Their quick, coordinated work reminded me why I trusted them so deeply.

“Thank you very much, girls. Clara will make sure the payments get to your accounts,” I told Antonia and Lila, offering them a grateful smile.

They dipped their heads respectfully. “Good luck today, ma’am,” Antonia added softly.

I nodded, then turned and walked down the hall with Damien beside me. His presence felt steadying–like a quiet anchor I hadn’t realized I needed.

The elevator doors slid open. Damien stepped forward first, pressing the button, and gestured for me to enter. We stood there in silence as the elevator descended. The quiet wasn’t awkward, instead, it felt like both of us were mentally preparing ourselves. Him, perhaps, for the spectacle of the auction- and me, for the ghosts I was likely to face there.

When the elevator doors opened onto the lobby, the sight waiting outside brought a sharp reminder of just how different my life had become over these years. Three black SUVS stood ready, engines softly rumbling. And in front of them, a special police vehicle with its lights flashing gently–a temporary detail I’d arranged to ensure nothing unexpected could happen on the way.

The hotel staff respectfully kept their distance, though I could feel the curious stares from behind reception desks and among the bellhops. Damien placed a light hand on my back, guiding me forward with quiet confidence. One of my security guards stepped up and opened the SUV’s back door.

I settled carefully into the leather seat, adjusting my gown’s skirt so it wouldn’t crease. As I caught my reflection again in the tinted window

Damien climbed in beside me, closing the door with a soft click. “All set?” he asked, voice low.

I nodded, my fingers gripping the armrest a bit tighter than I intended. “Yes,” I said.

I looked ahead at the driver, giving him a silent nod. The car rumbled gently to life, and as we pulled away from the hotel, the police vehicle in front of us turned on its siren, parting traffic like a silver blade. I could already see heads turning on the sidewalk, drawn by the flash of lights and the low wail of the

siren.

Outside, the city blurred by in shades of concrete, glass, and steel. New York. The city I’d left five years ago, carrying so much pain in my heart. And now, here I was–returning in a dress worth more than some houses back in Mexico, hidden behind a mask, but stronger than before.

I watched as we approached the auction center. Even from a distance, it buzzed with people–journalists, guests in designer suits, staff in crisp uniforms. The heavy doors gleamed in the morning sun, and the banners fluttered above, announcing today’s exclusive event. Just beyond them, cameras waited, ready to capture the moment.

I could see people’s heads already turning from the sound of the police siren from afar.

I didn’t do it to draw attention, in fact, that was exactly what I was avoiding the most.

Hiring the police escort wasn’t about showing off or trying to look powerful–it was about safety.

1/3

I wasn’t 100% certain that this mask was going to prevent Adrian from recognizing me, he has known me for years, seen my face countless times when he woke up, and he might pick up a thing or two.

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