Goodbye Forever Ex-Husband (by Ammund) novel Chapter 210

hapter 210

ADRIAN’S POV

“Mr. Westwood! Is it true you’re being investigated for murder?”

That was the first voice that cut through the morning air the moment I stepped beyond the heavy front door of my house.

“Mr. Westwood, do you have anything to say about the accusations?” another shouted, words tumbling over each other as cameras clicked like insects.

The noise rose quickly, a tidal wave of demands and speculation crashing into me from all sides. The words murder, accusations, and betrayal sliced through the chaos, standing out like knives no matter how quickly the rest blurred into a single, jumbled hum.

Microphones, black and silver and branded in gaudy colors, pushed closer, brushing against my top and blocking the path ahead. Their bearers leaned in, eyes bright with hungry anticipation, waiting almost willing me to falter, to say something they could twist and throw onto tomorrow’s front page.

But I didn’t give them that satisfaction.

I’d been through enough boardroom ambushes, enough corporate smear campaigns, to know exactly what even a single careless word could cost. The difference now was that instead of suits and ties hiding daggers, it was flashing bulbs and

cameras searching for cracks in my expression.

I kept my head slightly bowed, my face set in cold, polite indifference, and walked forward.

The officers on either side moved just enough to clear a narrow path through the crowd, their presence firm but silent. The moment felt surreal: walking through the neatly paved driveway of my own estate, past carefully pruned hedges and marble statues, escorted like some criminal while reporters screamed questions that had no answers.

I didn’t look at them. Didn’t even spare them a nod. Instead, I focused on the dark shape of the police vehicle waiting beyond the estate’s iron gate. Step by step, I walked toward it.

Only when I sank into the back seat of the car did I allow myself to exhale, the door shutting out most of the noise in an

instant.

Through the tinted glass, I watched as the crowd began to thin. Some reporters lowered their cameras, disappointment spread across their faces as they realized they’d gotten nothing not a statement, not a slip, not even a scowl worth

printing.

A small, bitter smile tugged at the corner of my lips, but it quickly faded.

Because then it struck me: in all my years living in this house, reporters had never once stepped foot onto my property uninvited not for business, not for rumor, never. It wasn’t luck, it was by design, a wall of legal threats and private security

that kept them at bay.

Yet today, not only had they arrived, but they had done so in perfect timing lined up just as the police were walking me

out.

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Chapter 210

The speed at which the news had spread… It was too fast. Too convenient.

Someone leaked it.

Not the police, they wouldn’t tip off the press before an arrest. No, this was deliberate, someone in the shadows, pulling strings to paint me guilty before I could even open my mouth.

A slow, cold realization sank into my chest. Whoever it was, they weren’t just satisfied with an investigation. They wanted to burn my reputation down around me.

My fingers curled around my phone, the screen lighting up under my thumb. I dialed James

“James,” I said once he picked up, keeping my voice even. “The officers are taking me to the central station downtown. Meet me there.”

I paused, then added, “No, don’t bring the lawyer yet. It won’t be necessary. Once I speak to the commissioner, this will die before it even starts.”

James’s voice was quiet on the other end, a single word of acknowledgment before the call ended.

I let out a slow exhale, a dry laugh almost slipping through at the absurdity of it all. “I’m just as surprised as you,” I told him, my tone steady despite the irritation simmering beneath. “They showed up at my doorstep this

ng, waving a warrant, claiming I was somehow involved in a murder from a few years ago. They didn’t even bother being specific.”

James’s eyes narrowed further, his gaze flickering across my face, searching for cracks, as though hoping this was all some elaborate misunderstanding I could explain away. “Did they at least tell you anything else? The victim? A date? Something

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