Divorce me I'm done serving you (Ayla) novel Chapter 752

Ayla paused. She used to spend so much energy trying to read Draven's mind that she'd bent over backwards not to cause him any trouble—never any push and pull, never any small friction between them. Looking back now, that really had been boring.

"Waited an hour. I was desperate to see the babies." Ayla instantly switched sides. She'd told Max she wanted her next relationship to be one where she felt genuinely valued—smooth, easy, just the way she wanted it.

Just because the person getting a chance this time was Draven didn't mean she had to go back to that careful, distant dynamic they'd had before. Ayla knew Draven had sides she hadn't seen yet. She wanted to test those edges, see what was actually different.

Draven looked genuinely guilty at that—like he really had made her wait too long. "I'll take you both to dinner. My apologies."

Fabiola murmured in her ear, "Not bad."

For the first time, Ayla really felt what it meant to have Fabiola as family. She was sizing up the brother-in-law and watching how he handled himself. Do well, she's satisfied. Fall short, she won't hold back.

She looked at Fabiola for a beat longer, then pulled free of her grip and walked over to Draven. She looked at him up close.

Aside from the bloodied, disheveled state after that confrontation with Troy, every time Draven showed up in front of her, he was impeccably put together. Always pleasant to look at.

He knew she liked him in black, so he was in all black—like a work of art.

Beauty really did have a way of lifting the mood. That wasn't just something people said.

"I'm seeing the babies first." she said, climbing in.

Each baby had a nanny beside them—both familiar faces to Ayla, both handpicked by Draven. They'd been with the babies for over 10 days now, and the little ones had already gotten used to them.

Both nannies greeted Ayla with a respectful nod when they saw her. She nodded back.

The two little ones were dressed in matching pajamas. They looked so much softer and sweeter than those scrunched-up newborn faces—and noticeably bigger. Ayla wanted to bury her face in them. A whole week apart. She'd missed them terribly.

They were sleeping so peacefully, thanks in no small part to how smoothly the driver had kept things.

Draven had been in this van the whole time, watching over the babies. Ayla could picture it easily—him sitting there with that cool, composed expression, working through emails, then glancing back every now and then to check on the little ones. The image was surprisingly warm.

Leaving them with Draven as their caretaker—they'd be well looked after. And safe.

Ayla's heart felt warm and sweet.

Fighting the urge to kiss them, she took one photo of each, then climbed back out.

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