Divorce me I'm done serving you (Ayla) novel Chapter 670

Draven searched himself for anything Ayla might still love, but came up empty. He wandered through a fog of confusion and pain so dense, he could barely breathe.

The thought of losing her was unbearable. Desperation clawed at him, pushing him toward choices he'd never imagined.

If Ayla's distance was because of the children, then he would steal them away—no matter the cost.

If that meant punishing Troy, so be it. Draven knew how ruthless his brother could be, but he had never feared him. If Troy could make Draven suffer, then Draven could make Troy pay in equal measure. They were brothers—two sides of the same coin. In the end, it was impossible to say who would destroy whom.

Now, those children were Troy's only bargaining chip—and his greatest vulnerability.

If Draven could seize that weakness, he could bring Troy to his knees.

Troy had committed countless cruel acts; Draven would ensure he paid for every single one.

So Draven resolved to take the children.

Soon, Ayla would know the truth.

He was ready for her shock, her disappointment, her fury. He had run out of options, after all.

But before he could face Ayla, fate delivered a punishment of its own.

By chance, it happened today—Ayla had chosen Max.

Why did fate have to be so cruel?

Was this really happening, or was it some kind of nightmare?

Had they truly become a couple?

Herman noticed the color drain from Draven's face as he stared at his phone. Alarmed, he rushed over. "Draven, what's wrong? Did you get bad news?"

Draven shut his eyes, anguish twisting his features. "It's retribution."

No, it couldn't be true.

Could it?

It had to be a mistake—a cruel illusion.

How could this possibly be real?

The pain was so intense, Draven felt paralyzed, unable to process the truth. But the truth eventually sank in.

Disbelief and agony crashed together in his chest.

A new emotion surged up—one he rarely allowed himself: anger.

Max, James' cousin.

A notorious playboy, and yet, somehow, the one Ayla had chosen.

How lucky could Max be?

Draven had always faced Troy as an equal, each clash tangled up with family loyalty and complicated by Troy's position as their grandfather's heir. Draven never dared act recklessly; Troy's cunning often blindsided him. Their battles were a careful dance, evenly matched, sometimes desperate.

That was why Draven's fight with Troy was always cautious, even when he was pushed to the brink and forced to consider stealing the children.

But Max was a different story.

Draven wouldn't show him the same restraint. He would use every ruthless strategy he knew. This was a fight he could win.

Still, why had Ayla become so close to Max?

Why had he seen them kissing outside a flower shop?

How could their relationship have changed so much in just one day?

If Ayla truly loved Max, would she hate Draven even more if he tried to destroy him?

Draven's heart felt crushed. He had never been worthy of Ayla's love—now, he was certain of it.