Divorce me I'm done serving you (Ayla) novel Chapter 678

If Draven had understood his own mistakes sooner, he never would have gone through with the plan to steal Ayla's children. Instead, he would have stayed by her side, steadfast and unwavering, giving her the comfort and security she so desperately needed.

He would have told Ayla the truth—that he loved her beyond reason, that losing her was unthinkable, and that no matter what they faced, he would be there to walk through it with her.

But he hadn't done any of that. Instead, he had let his desperation twist into something unrecognizable. He stole Ayla's children, and in doing so, he turned her love into hatred and understanding into suspicion.

How could he have been so blind? How could he have made such a catastrophic, unforgivable choice?

Draven could hardly stand to look at himself now.

But the children were already here. There was no way he could send them back to Troy. If he showed even a hint of weakness, Troy would seize the opportunity and never let go. Troy would crush him at the first sign of retreat.

It was Draven's own arrogance and foolishness that had led them all to this dead end.

Max flashed Herman a wry smile. "See? Even Mr. Storm thinks I've made some sense."

"Thank you." Draven's usually calm eyes locked onto Max. His hand was still clenched around the broken glass, as if he wanted to grind it to dust. But flesh is only flesh—his grip just drove the shards deeper, and blood began to flow in earnest.

"Why thank me?" Max asked, genuinely puzzled, brow furrowing.

There was something deeply unsettling about Draven's brand of madness. The man who could hurt himself so easily was the most dangerous kind—someone who wouldn't hesitate to hurt others, either.

Yet Draven's gratitude was genuine. Max's words had pierced straight through his defenses.

Maybe the people around Draven were too used to following orders, too afraid to guess what he truly felt. Even if they tried, they never got it right.

But Max, as an outsider, had seen everything clearly. With a single offhand remark, he had made Draven see the real reason for Ayla's heartbreak.

Draven owed him thanks—but he had no intention of explaining why.

He looked at Max, voice quiet but ironclad. "In ten minutes, James will call. He'll tell you something's happened in the family, and you'll have to leave Silvoria and go home immediately."

He said it almost casually, as if the blood dripping from his hand didn't matter. But no one could ignore the raw, chilling energy in the room.

Max could no longer keep up his charming, unbothered persona. "Are you threatening me?" he asked, voice tight.

Draven gave a bitter, self-deprecating laugh.

If, before, he had come here out of pure emotion, running on old instincts and refusing to accept Ayla and Max together, now he saw things with a new, brutal clarity.

He finally understood the root of the problem. He knew how to press on.

If he couldn't be honest with Ayla, then from now on, he would show her all of himself—the dangerous, dark, ruthless side she'd never seen.

He wanted to scream.

...

Meanwhile, Ayla was running her own investigation. She planned to use the lab's computers for faster calculations and better data analysis, hoping she could finally uncover who had been watching her.

She had no idea what was happening next door—only that Max had called to say he had to leave suddenly.

Ayla was surprised. "Is it really that urgent?"

"I'll come find you as soon as I can take care of things at home," Max promised, his voice soft and full of meaning. "I'll miss you."

Ayla heard the reluctance in his tone and didn't push for details. "Alright, I hope everything works out."

After hanging up, she went to ask the nanny for the day's videos of the babies.

Even if there were no security cameras, she could at least get some clips.

But when she tried to reach the nanny, no one answered.