Reborn Heiress: Married To My Ex-Husband's Rival -
Chapter 97 They Want You Dead
Chapter 97: Chapter 97 They Want You Dead
The room was thick with silence after the footage ended, but Kingsley didn’t wait around. He pushed the chair back, his leather shoes scratched against the hardwood floor as he walked out.
Raymond followed, catching up as they passed through the long hallway of Kingsley’s mansion. The walls were lined with black-and-white photographs and art works.
"Boss Elm," Raymond said quietly, glancing around to make sure they weren’t being overheard, "we both know who used to run with that symbol."
Kingsley didn’t answer. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his jaw were tight, eyes locked on the far end of the corridor like if he walked fast enough, the truth would stay behind him.
Raymond exhaled and said it anyway. "Your father was the last known head of the Elite Fraternity. He built it. Ran it. Owned it."
Kingsley stopped walking instantly. His shoulders didn’t move, but his voice was low and sharp. "Don’t."
Raymond stepped beside him. "You know I have to bring it up."
"I said don’t." Kingsley turned slowly. His eyes were cold as he uttered flatly. "That name died with them."
Raymond stared at him for a moment. Then he nodded. "Right. But the Fraternity didn’t. And they didn’t choose you after your father died. You know why."
Kingsley looked away.
Raymond continued, his voice went calm. "They believed you killed them. That fire... your mother, your father... The rumors spread like wildfire. Someone moved the story, and no one ever questioned it. Not even the inner circle."
"I was barely twenty five years old," Kingsley said quietly. "I woke up in the pile of their bodies and found ash where my life used to be. And no one asked if I was okay. They just pointed fingers."
Raymond nodded. "And that’s why you never took your father’s place."
"They blacklisted me," Kingsley said, with a bitter smile. "Outcasted me and Replaced me."
"Which brings us to now," Raymond said, his tone tightened again. "Whoever took that seat after your father—they’re the one sending men to kill Jasmine. That makes it personal. That makes it connected to you."
Kingsley clenched his jaw. "I don’t even know who they chose."
"Of course not," Raymond muttered. "They always stay anonymous and hidden. Ghost leaders."
Kingsley shook his head. "No one ever saw his face, not even the old council. My father made sure of that. He believed power was safer in the dark."
Raymond ran a hand through his hair, then sighed. "Then we’ll bring it into the light. I’ll start digging. Pull some strings. Somebody out there knows who took over."
Kingsley nodded. "Thanks."
Raymond turned to leave but paused. "Be careful. This isn’t some street war. These people... they’re bred to erase problems. If Jasmine’s on their list, there’s a reason."
Kingsley didn’t respond.
He just walked into his bedroom, shut the door quietly behind him, and leaned against it for a while. The room was dim Like a space frozen in time.
A part of him had known, deep down—that the past wasn’t finished with him. That it would find its way back, clawing through whatever peace he’d tried to build.
He moved away from the door and sat at the edge of his bed, he dragged his phone out from his pocket. His thumb hovered for a second before he scrolled to her name:
’Wifey’
He exhaled slowly, he hadn’t even changed the way he saved her contact even though they’re divorced. Slowly, he pressed call.
On the other end...
Jasmine lay on Nicole’s bed, the covers pulled halfway over her legs, her eyes staring at the ceiling. She hadn’t spoken much since the shooting. Her mind felt like it was still catching up.
Her phone buzzed on the pillow beside her. She glanced at the screen.
’Ex-Husband.’
She stared at the phone for a moment, looking uncertain, then picked it up and answered quietly, "Hello?"
There was a short pause on his end before his voice came through. "It’s me."
"I know," she said, rubbing her temple. "What’s going on?"
Kingsley hesitated. "I just wanted to check on you."
"I’m fine," she said quickly, her tone was flat and tired. "Nicole’s here. Hailey’s okay. We’re locked in. Nothing’s moving."
He could hear it in her voice—she didn’t want to talk long.
He cleared his throat. "I know things are... weird between us, Jasmine. We haven’t exactly been close. But this is important."
She closed her eyes. "Kingsley, if you’re calling to talk about feelings—"
"No," he cut in on her words. "I’m not."
That made her pause. He continued, "I wanted to tell you about the people who came after you today. The ones in the black car."
Jasmine’s heart thudded loudly against her ears. "You know who they are?"
"I didn’t at first," Kingsley said. "But we pulled camera footage from across the street. We saw the shooter. We saw a symbol on his wrist."
Jasmine sat up slowly. "What kind of symbol?"
"It’s a crest," he said. "Two wings around a dagger. A crown on top."
She froze. "I’ve never seen that," she said quietly.
"I have," he replied. "It belongs to a secret group called the Elite Fraternity. They’re not just hired guns, Jasmine. They’re trained. Precise. They don’t leave survivors."
Jasmine’s chest tightened. "Why would they come after me?"
"That’s the part I don’t know yet," Kingsley said. "But I do know this—they only accept contracts from high-level players. People with serious money, or serious grudges. You don’t just end up on their radar by accident."
Jasmine went silent again.
Kingsley continued. "They came to kill you. Not scare you. Not send a warning. That was an execution, Jasmine."
"I don’t know them," she whispered. "I swear, Kingsley. I’ve never even heard that name."
"I believe you," he said, surprising them both. She blinked.
Kingsley leaned back against the headboard. "But someone else knows who you are. Knows something about you that even you don’t. And they paid a lot of money to see you dead."
Jasmine swallowed hard, her voice turned shaky. "So what now?"
"We find out why," Kingsley said. "And we find out who."
She wanted to ask how, but she didn’t. She didn’t have the strength.
He could hear the weariness from her end. "Get some rest. Lock every door and window. I’m putting extra men on your street tonight."
Jasmine nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. "Okay."
"I meant what I said," Kingsley added quietly. "I believe you." And then, he ended the call.
Jasmine let the phone fall from her hand as she stared at the ceiling again. But this time, her mind was spinning.
Elite Fraternity.
A group she’d never heard of, Coming after her like she was some kind of threat.
And Kingsley, her ex-husband, the man she thought she was done with—was the only one standing between her and the kind of death that didn’t come with warnings.
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