# Chapter 163: A Lone Woman Against the Waves
Hello everyone, it's me again! How are you all doing? Today I will continue to walk with you and review Chapter 163 of "The Untouchable Ex Wife." And what a chapter it is — full of audacity, salty sea air, mocking laughter, and a quiet mystery that's about to crack wide open. Grab your life jacket, because we're setting sail!
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Renee was not the kind of woman who waited around when someone she cared about was in danger. Quinton's condition was deteriorating by the hour, and every single moment they wasted on protocol or caution was another moment his health could take a sudden, terrible turn for the worse. So, when she realized that the only way to reach Owen quickly was to cross the open sea, she didn't hesitate. Risks? She ate risks for breakfast.
The harbor was a chaotic jumble of battered boats, rusty chains, and weather-beaten sailors. Renee approached one of the dockhands, her eyes sharp and determined. She asked for a boat to take her out to the coordinates where Owen was said to be fishing.
"Only one?" The man scoffed, looking her up and down as if she were a child asking to play with the big toys. "You have to pay extra for the captain."
"No, I can navigate it myself," Renee said with a casual wave of her hand.
That nearly knocked the man off his feet. "You're going to navigate it? You're just a woman!" he sputtered, disbelief dripping from every word.
Renee smiled — not the kind of smile that invited argument, but the kind that ended it. "Yes, and I have the license for it. In fact, I'm probably better at it than your men."
For a long moment, the man just stared at her. Then he shook his head, a grudging admiration flickering in his weather-worn eyes. "Fine then. This is the first time I've met a woman like you, lady. You're something special."
He handed her the keys — or rather, the rusted ignition switch — to a small, old dinghy that looked like it had survived a hundred storms by sheer stubbornness. When Renee turned the engine on, a thick cloud of smoke billowed out, choking her instantly. She coughed, waving the gray fumes from her face.
Well... she had asked for the cheapest boat, hadn't she?
But she couldn't complain. Time was a luxury she simply did not have. As long as the thing could sail, it was good enough. Renee gripped the steering wheel, set her jaw, and pushed the throttle forward.
*Vroom!*
The little boat shot across the waves, bouncing over swells that seemed far too big for such a tiny vessel. Sea spray soaked her hair and clothes, but she didn't care. She leaned into the turns, carving a path through the open water like a cool superspy on a high-stakes mission.
Twenty-eight miles. Not far on land. But at sea, where the horizon stretched endlessly in every direction and the waves played tricks on your eyes, twenty-eight miles might as well have been across an ocean. There was good fishing out there — the kind of catch that made men rich and legends were born from — but the cost and danger were so high that few ever dared to go that far. Only the wealthy, the desperate, or the outright crazy would make that journey.
Renee, naturally, was all three.
After what felt like both an eternity and an instant, she spotted it: a magnificent luxury yacht, gleaming white against the deep blue sea. Two decks tall, immaculate and grand, with a small swimming pool shimmering on its deck. It wasn't just a boat. It was a floating palace.
And there, on the front deck, she could just make out the silhouettes of two men.
Renee's heart gave a hopeful thump. Owen had to be there. She cut the engine as she approached, letting the little dinghy drift alongside the towering hull. She stood up, waving her arms at the people lounging on the deck.
"Hello! What a coincidence, are you guys here to fish too?"
Her voice rang out across the water, cheerful and disarmingly friendly, as if she had just bumped into old friends at the supermarket.
In comparison to the giant yacht, her tiny dinghy looked like a child's bath toy. And the women on board — beautiful, glamorous creatures in tiny bikinis who had been lounging by the pool like sun-worshipping goddesses — turned and stared. Then, they laughed.
"Where did this ugly woman come from?" one of them sneered, her voice dripping with mockery. "Why is she waving? Is this some kind of show arranged by the yacht company?"
"Ha! I've never seen a woman steer a boat before. Is she a man in disguise?" another added, giggling behind her perfectly manicured hand.
Their voices were shrill and cruel, carrying easily across the deck. But before they could continue their catty little commentary, the bodyguards standing nearby stepped forward with stern expressions. "Keep your voices down. Don't disturb the gentlemen."
The women fell silent at once, their painted lips pressed closed. They cast a gloomy look toward the front of the deck, where two men sat side by side, fishing rods in hand, utterly absorbed in the quiet art of waiting for a bite.
Despite the parade of beautiful women lounging nearby — all of them practically throwing themselves at the two men with every trick in their seductive arsenal — the men never so much as glanced their way. No. Their eyes were fixed on the open sea.
They were undeniably handsome. Refined. Magnetic. Two figures carved from a different kind of marble than ordinary men.
"Do you know who they are?" one of the women whispered to the other, her voice hushed with reverence.
"Yes, one of them is Owen Wagner, a top doctor. The other, well... his identity might surprise you." The woman’s eyes lingered on the man seated beside Owen, and a dreamy, love-struck smile spread across her face — the smile of a schoolgirl with a hopeless crush.
"Who is he? He looks familiar," the other lady pressed eagerly, leaning closer.
But the first woman just smiled mysteriously, holding the secret close to her chest like a precious jewel.
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And that, dear readers, is where our chapter leaves us — hovering on the edge of revelation. Renee has braved the open sea in a smoky, broken-down dinghy, endured the mockery of jealous beauties, and finally reached her destination. Owen is right there, fishing on that sprawling yacht. But he is not alone.
Who is that mysterious man beside him? Why does he look familiar to the women aboard? Is he a board member of the Everhart family? A rival? A friend? Could he be an unexpected ally — or an unexpected danger?
Renee stands on her little boat, looking up at that grand vessel, about to step directly into the lion's den. But the question is: when she does, will she be walking toward salvation... or straight into a trap?
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**Reader's Impressions & Star Rating**
This chapter delivers a wonderful mix of action, humor, and mounting intrigue. I loved seeing Renee's fearless, take-charge personality shine as she personally navigated that rickety boat across the open sea — it's such a vivid and satisfying image. The contrast between her humble little dinghy and the luxurious yacht, complete with catty bikini-clad socialites, creates fantastic tension and social commentary. And the ending? Pure golden bait. Leaving us with the mystery of Owen's companion was a masterful cliffhanger that absolutely demands we turn the page.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Rating: 4.9 / 5 Stars
**Next Chapter Prediction**
My gut tells me that the mysterious man fishing alongside Owen is someone from Renee's past — possibly a powerful figure connected to her former married life, or perhaps even an old friend who holds critical information about Quinton's condition. When Renee steps aboard, she will likely be met with shock, cold indifference, or dark amusement. But knowing Renee, she will not be deterred. She will demand answers with that fierce determination of hers, and the conversation that follows could unravel secrets no one on that yacht is prepared to reveal.
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