Divorce me I'm done serving you (Ayla) novel Chapter 694

Max closed his hand around hers, his voice dropping. "The most important thing is that I think you need someone right now. I'm not leaving you. Not for anything."

The last few words caught her off guard. Her jaw tightened.

She thought about Draven. She had told herself, in the beginning, that the breakup had simply hurt him too much to face her, that he'd chosen to move forward alone, quietly, without making it complicated. That he'd respected her enough to let go.

She had understood that version of him. She could have made peace with it.

But that wasn't what he'd done. He'd been watching her in secret for months, and she still didn't know why. Was it control? Was it that he couldn't bring himself to walk away?

If he still cared, why hadn't he come to her? Why hadn't he said something the way Max had, plainly and without making her guess? Instead he'd taken her children and backed her into a corner.

There were better ways. There were so many better ways.

She was tired. She didn't want to untangle what Draven was thinking, and she didn't want to figure out Troy either. She just wanted her children back. The two of them could matter later, or not at all.

Max didn't ask anything of her. He followed her lead and didn't push, and that was exactly what she needed right now. Simple. No weight attached to it.

She was about to face Draven head-on and demand her children back. Having someone beside her wouldn't hurt.

"Okay," she said.

She left the city limits, and where the roads opened up without cameras or speed restrictions, she drove the way she actually drove.

Max grabbed the handle and held on. Then he noticed that her hands were completely steady. Her breathing hadn't changed. She was moving at a speed that should have felt reckless and she looked entirely at ease.

He realized, somewhat belatedly, that he might be sitting next to one of the best drivers he'd ever seen.

He couldn't look away from her. The woman he loved was absolutely radiant.

This was the worst it had ever been between them, the deepest the hatred had ever run, and she had seen all of it. Both of them wondered if they had frightened her.

Draven's face had gone completely white. He had planned to tell her everything, had steeled himself for the conversation. He hadn't imagined it starting like this.

Troy wasn't in much better shape. He was a mess because of Draven, wounded and cornered, and the last thing he wanted was for Ayla to see him like this.

He'd watched his surveillance go quiet back in Silvoria, knew she'd slipped away on her own. Which meant she knew about the children. Which meant everything was unraveling exactly the way he'd feared.

Draven was going to take her. He was going to take the children and Ayla and there was nothing Troy could do to stop it.

He couldn't accept it. No matter what, he couldn't accept any of this.

Troy looked at Ayla, and for the first time his eyes were full of panic. He was grasping for anything. "Ayla, Draven stole our children. He's out of his mind."