Hell Hath no fury like a billionaire's Ex Chapter 11: Liam’s Suspicion

Liam's POV

I walked around my office, my anxious footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. I hadn't seen Diane at any of our regular get-togethers in weeks, so her abrupt absence from our social circles was beginning to draw attention. Above all, it was causing anxiety.

I couldn't help but wonder what Diane was up to, as the carefully constructed image we'd maintained as the power couple was coming apart. This was nothing like her. She had always been sociable and thrived on the excitent of our social events. Her abrupt withdrawal was... uncomfortable.

I stopped at the window, staring at the pain and rage I saw in Diane's eyes as I pondered deeply about the confrontation with our lawyers and Diane.

What exactly was Diane planning? Was she gathering more proof against ? Maybe she's plotting so sort of revenge? The confusion was infuriating as I continued to pace around the office.

My private investigator's report didn't yield anything. Diane stayed at Joan's house, only leaving for quick errands. She'd entirely disappeared from our social circles, avoiding any places where she might run into or our mutual friends.

I poured myself a large drink of Scotch and drank it in one gulp. The burn from the drink did little to ease my worries. Diane's behavior was so out of character that it must have ant sothing. But now what?

As I sat behind my desk, my thoughts raced through several situations. Is she eting and planning with people against ? Gathering support for her side of the story? Was there sothing else going on that I hadn't considered?

The uncertainty was the toughest part. I had always taken pride in being in charge, predicting every move in the complicated chess ga of high finance and society. But now, confronted with Diane's strange behavior, I felt as if I was lost in the dark.

I needed to act quickly to restore control of the situation before Diane would make her move. Whatever she had planned, I had to be prepared.

First things first, I had to limit her access. I picked up the phone and dialed the head of security.

"Johnson," I said as soon as he responded, "I need you to update the house's access codes right now. additionally withdraw Mrs. Ashton's office security clearance."

On the other end of the phone, there was silence. "Are you sure about this, Mr. Ashton?"

With a firm voice, I answered, "Absolutely." "And I want to be notified imdiately if she attempts to gain entry to either location."

I relaxed back in my chair and felt a tiny bit of joy after hanging up the phone. Though little, it was a start. Diane would no longer be able to access any of our common areas, which would restrict her ability to obtain data or resources.

But I knew that was insufficient. I had to do more to be ready for anything Diane might have in store. I took out my laptop and accessed our bank statents. To safeguard everything I owned, it was ti to begin transferring assets.

A part of kept asking myself if I was exaggerating while I worked. Perhaps Diane was just withdrawing as a coping chanism for our impending divorce. Perhaps, after all, she wasn't plotting?

However, I can't finance taking that risk. To be where I was, I had to put in too much work and sacrifice. Diane's odd behavior could not possibly endanger all that I had worked so hard to achieve.

I couldn't get rid of the persistent feeling that sothing was missing as the afternoon went on. Diane was often witty, but she'd never taken much interest in our complex financial or business transactions. What if her actions up to this point were really a smokescreen to divert my attention before she made her actual move?

I shook my head, attempting to dispel these irrational worries. I have to remain concentrated and apply smart thinking. I would be prepared for anything Diane planned to do.

By the ti the sun began to drop and cast long shadows across my workplace, I had a strategy in place. I had safeguarded our assets, restricted Diane's access, and put up monitoring systems to notify of any strange action.

However, when I stood to leave, gathering my coat and briefcase, I couldn't shake the sense of discomfort that had crept on . For the first ti in years, I felt like I was on the defensive, reacting rather than controlling.

I couldn't shake the feeling that no matter what Diane planned or believed she could do to , I'd co out on top. I had to. There were no other options.