Stripping For My Devil Ex Husband

The afternoon quiet settled heavily over Northwood Manor.

​With Damian and Jullian gone to trace Clara’s financial digital footprint and interview the precinct detectives, the estate felt vast, hollow, and tense. Victoria had retreated to her private chamber to manage the mounting corporate calls, leaving Anastasia and Valerie sitting in the glass conservatory overlooking the manicured gardens.

​A delicate porcelain cup rattled against its saucer as Ana’s hand trembled. She couldn’t shake the image of Clara trapped in some dark corner of the city.

​A soft, sharp chime vibrated from Ana’s pocket.

​She pulled out her personal phone. An encrypted, unknown number had sent a single, zero-byte video file with no text.

​Her heart lurched violently. Keeping her face smooth, Ana set her teacup down and stood up. "Valerie, excuse me for a moment. I need to wash my hands."

​"Take your time, Ana," Valerie replied with a warm, sympathetic smile.

​Ana walked briskly down the corridor and slipped inside the marble bathroom, locking the door behind her.

​With shaking fingers, she hit play.

​The screen flickered, revealing a dimly lit, damp concrete room. Clara was bound to a rusted metal chair, her mouth gagged, her hair disheveled, and dark bruises mottling her cheekbone. A distorted, metallic voice rasped through the speaker.

​"If you want Clara Reed to draw another breath, Anastasia Vance, you will come alone. Pier 42. Two hours. If Damian Sterling’s men sniff the perimeter, she dies before you reach the gate."

​The video was cut to black.

​Ana covered her mouth, stifling a terrified sob. Her pulse pounded in her ears like a war drum.

​Two hours.

​Damian’s private security detail had every gate, terrace, and perimeter wall locked down like an iron vault. There was no way they would let the CEO’s wife walk past the gates alone.

​She needed a way out... and she needed a distraction.

​Taking three deep, steadying breaths, Ana splashed cold water over her face, wiped away any trace of panic, and stepped back out into the glass conservatory.

​Valerie was pouring fresh tea when Ana sat back down across from her, letting out a heavy, deliberate sigh.

​"Ana? Are you alright?" Valerie asked gently.

​"I’m suffocating, Valerie," Ana murmured, resting her chin in her hand, letting the genuine exhaustion lace her voice. "Ever since the penthouse... I feel like a caged animal. Damian locks me in rooms, guards shadow every hallway, and fear dictates every breath. We’re prisoners in our own home. Don’t we deserve even one moment of normal freedom?"

​Valerie looked down at her cup, her shoulders dropping. "I know. Damian’s paranoia can be suffocating. But he’s just trying to keep us safe."

​"Just one hour," Ana pressed softly, leaning closer. "There’s that quiet little artisan café at the edge of the valley, miles from the downtown grid. No reporters, no chaos. Just thirty minutes away from this estate so we can breathe fresh air. Please, Valerie... you know the security team loves you. They listen to you."

​Valerie hesitated, looking at Ana’s pale, pleading eyes. The thought of escaping the oppressive manor was tempting, and Valerie’s soft-hearted nature couldn’t resist Ana’s earnest plea.

​"Alright," Valerie gave in with a small, conspiratorial grin. "Let me handle the gate."

​They walked out to the main courtyard where two black SUVs and four executive guards stood stationed by the iron gates.

​The security captain immediately straightened. "Miss Valerie, Mrs. Sterling. Mr. Sterling’s orders are strict... the estate is on complete lockdown."

​"Oh, come on, Gary," Valerie smiled sweetly, tilting her head with effortless charm. "We’re not going into the city center. We’re just driving fifteen minutes down the ridge road to the private valley café for forty minutes. You and the team will follow directly behind us in the escort vehicle. How could anything possibly happen with four of Damian’s best men guarding the perimeter?"

​The captain exchanged an uneasy glance with his partner, but Valerie was Damian’s sister, and following in a trailing security detail technically kept the perimeter intact.

​"Alright, Miss Valerie," the captain sighed, gesturing to the gate operator. "We maintain a two-car bubble at all times."

​"Thank you, Gary!" Valerie chirped, linking her arm with Ana’s.

​Within minutes, Valerie pulled her silver sedan through the grand iron gates, the heavy escort SUV trailing closely behind.

​Anastasia looked in the rearview mirror as the stone walls of Northwood faded into the distance. Her knuckles were white where she clutched her coat, her mind racing with a singular, terrifying reality...

​She was driving straight into a trap, and she had less than ninety minutes to lose the guards and reach Pier 42.

________________________

The artisan café was tucked against the edge of the valley ridge, quiet and dimly lit with only a handful of patrons scattered across the rustic wooden booths. Outside the windows, Damian’s four-man security detail lingered near their parked black SUV, watching every entrance with sharp, disciplined vigilance.

​Inside, Valerie stirred her cinnamon latte, her cheerful expression slowly giving way to quiet suspicion.

​Anastasia hadn’t touched her tea. When the waiter had come by minutes earlier, Ana hadn’t even looked at the menu... she simply pointed to the first random pastry on the board, her voice distracted and tight. Her eyes constantly flicked to the front glass doors, to the kitchen corridor, to the digital clock hanging above the barista counter.

​"Ana?" Valerie asked softly, leaning across the small wooden table. "Are you sure you’re okay? You haven’t taken a single bite."

​"I’m fine," Ana said quickly, offering a tight, hollow smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "Just... tired."

​A sharp vibration buzzed against the wooden tabletop.

​Ana’s hand practically flew to her phone. Her dark eyes swept over the screen, the color instantly draining from her face, leaving her ghostly pale.

​"Excuse me, Valerie. I need to use the restroom," Ana blurted out.

​She stood up so abruptly her chair scraped loudly against the hardwood floor. Without waiting for a response, Ana hurried down the narrow hallway toward the back restrooms.

​Valerie’s brows drew together, her chest tightening with an uneasy gut feeling. Something is completely wrong.

_________________________

​Inside the private restroom, Ana locked the main door, leaning her trembling back against the wood. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, jagged gasps as she opened the new text from the burner number:

​"Leave through the kitchen back door into the alley. Black sedan waiting. Forty minutes, or Clara loses an eye."

​Before Ana’s spinning mind could process the demand, a sharp, heavy knock rattled against the restroom door.

​"Ana? Open the door," Valerie’s voice came from the other side, stripped of its usual warmth, carrying a firm, commanding edge. "Open it right now."

​Ana froze, her breath catching in her throat. Her hands shook violently as she tucked the phone into her coat pocket, trying desperately to steady her voice.

​"I’m almost done, Valerie..."

​The lock clicked from the outside.

​Valerie used an emergency coin to twist the deadbolt open, stepping inside and snapping the door shut behind her.

​Valerie stood with her arms crossed, her sharp gaze sweeping over Ana’s pale, sweat-sheened forehead and the wild panic burning behind her dark eyes.

​"You’re not here for fresh air," Valerie said, her voice dropping into a direct, unyielding register. "You haven’t relaxed for a single second since we left the estate. You’re shaking, you’re hiding your phone, and you tricked me into breaking Damian’s perimeter. What is going on, Anastasia?"

​Ana backed up until the edge of the marble sink pressed against her spine. The clock was ticking, Clara’s life hung by a thread, and there were four armed guards watching the front entrance. She was completely out of options.

​A hot tear spilled over Ana’s lashes, her lower lip trembling as she looked at Damian’s sister.

​"I’m so sorry, Valerie," Ana whispered, her voice cracking under the crushing weight of the truth. "I lied to you."

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