Chasing His Ex-Wife Back

Chapter 1 Isabelle'S POV--HAPPY ANNIVERSARY "I have something for you," Damion says, his voice cutting through the chatter and laughter surrounding us. I turn to face him, my heart skipping a beat. He held an envelope with a look so unreadable it sends a chill down my spine. For a moment, the symphony playing softly in the background of the celebration faded, leaving only the pounding of my heart in my ears. "Happy anniversary," I whisper, forcing a smile, hoping for even a flicker of warmth in his eyes. "Open it," he says, the words sharp, almost impatient. I swallow, my fingers trembling as I take the envelope. It's lighter than I expected, and an inexplicable dread creeps up my spine. Has he bought another mansion in my name? Damion can be full of surprises. But as I slide out the paper, the world seems to slow. My eyes scan the page, and I feel the floor vanish beneath my feet. Divorce papers. The words blur, the room closing in as if it's suffocating me. I look up at him, searching for some sign that this is a cruel joke. "Damion, what is this? Divorce papers? On our anniversary?" His face remains cold, detached, as if this is just another business transaction. "Yes, Isabelle. This farce has gone on long enough. It's time we end things. You're empty. Heaven knows you have no eggs to be hatched." I can barely breathe. The sounds of the party grow distant, muted by the ringing in my ears. "You're ending our marriage because I can't give you a child? Because your father won't let it go?" His jaw tightens, and the hardness in his eyes deepens. "This isn't just about that, Isabelle. Do you think I haven't seen it? The way you cling to me, desperate, pretending we still have something worth fighting for? It's suffocating. I need someone who isn't just... holding on because of who I am and what I have." "Clinging to you?" My voice cracks, and I take a step closer, desperation seeping into every pore of my body. "Damion, how can you say that? I love you! I've stood by you through everything, through the pressure, through the silence that felt like it would choke me. I'm not here for your wealth or your name. I'm here for you." He scoffs, a bitter sound that slices through me. "Love? Isabelle, love isn't enough. It never has been. I need a partner who strengthens me, not someone who reminds me of failure every single day." His words land like punches, each one knocking the breath out of me. Failure. That's what I am to him now. My hands shake as I reach for him, my fingers grazing the fabric of his suit. "Please, Damion. Don't do this. We can find a way-there are other options. We can talk to the doctors again, we can-" "No." His tone is final, as if closing the chapter of a book. He steps back, and the space between us feels like an endless chasm. "I'm done talking. I'm done pretending this can be fixed. It can't. And I'm done living this lie." I stagger back, the air thick with humiliation and disbelief. "A lie? Is that all I've been to you?" His silence says more than words ever could. My ch**t tightens, and I force the sob threatening to escape back into my throat. Before I can plead further, the sound of laughter pierces the air. A sharp, familiar laugh. Kaia Jenkins steps into view, her blonde hair perfectly styled, her emerald dress shimmering as she weaves through the crowd with practiced elegance. She's holding a glass of ch**pagne, her lips curved in a smirk that sends a fresh wave of dread through me. "Didn't expect this, did you, Izzy?" Her voice drips with mock sweetness. She glances at the envelope in my trembling hands, her green eyes dancing with triumph. "Damion told me he was going to handle this tonight. But seeing it in person? Oh, it's better than I imagined." My stomach churns. "Kaia, what is this? Why are you here?" She slides an arm around Damion's waist, and my world tilts further. "Because he invited me," she says simply. "You see, I've been helping Damion figure out what he really needs. And unfortunately, it's not you." Damion doesn't push her away. He doesn't move. My heart sinks further as Kaia presses a k**s to his jaw, her smile growing as the room begins to stir with whispers. The humiliation burns like fire, spreading across my skin. "You're mine now, Damion," she purrs, loud enough for the nearby guests to hear. "And I'll give you everything she couldn't." I can barely hear over the ringing in my ears. My gaze shifts to the crowd, to the faces watching this unfold like some grotesque drama. I catch whispers-pity, amusement, judgment-and the shame is unbearable. "Stop it," I whisper, my voice trembling. "Kaia, you don't-" "Oh, but I do," she interrupts smoothly. "You thought you had this perfect little life, didn't you? But Damion and I... well, we've been planning this for a while. Haven't we, darling?" My eyes dart to Damion, searching for a denial, an explanation-anything. But his cold silence is the final blow. I step back, the envelope slipping from my hands, and suddenly I feel like I'm drowning. The weight of their betrayal, the stares of the crowd-it's too much. My knees threaten to buckle, but I force myself to stay upright, even as tears blur my vision. "How did it come to this?" I whisper, the question hanging in the air, unanswered. Chapter 2 Isabelle'S POV--POOR ISABELLE I close the door to our-no, his-bedroom, the sound echoing through the empty halls like the final note of a funeral march. The weight of the evening presses down on me, suffocating and inescapable. My fingers tremble as I reach for the suitcase at the foot of the bed, the one I hadn't touched since our honeymoon. How ironic that it would be the last witness to this chapter of my life. The room still carries traces of us: the silk sheets tangled from restless nights, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air like an uninvited memory. Every detail feels like a cruel joke, mocking me with what I've lost. Just as I reach for the doorknob, my phone buzzes in my pocket. The vibration shakes through me like a lightning strike. I pull it out with trembling hands, blinking against the rain to read the screen. It's the hospital. The voice on the other end is calm, detached, but the words that follow shatter what little is left of me. "Isabelle, we are sorry to inform you that your mother has just passed away." - I drop to my knees, the cold water soaking through my clothes as my fingers fumble to pick up my phone. I clutch it tightly, my breath shallow and panicked. Somewhere in the haze of my thoughts, a sliver of resolve flickers to life. I can't fall apart here, not in front of Damion's building, not with Kaia's smug face probably watching from a window. My mother wouldn't have wanted me to crumble. I need to go to her to say goodbye, even if it's too late. The cab ride to the hospital feels like an eternity. When I finally step into the sterile halls, the familiar scent of antiseptic and faint despair hits me like a punch. Her skin is cold, the warmth of life gone. Tears stream down my face, unstoppable, as I lean forward and whisper, "I'm so sorry, Mom. I should've been here sooner. I should've-" "I'm sorry," I say through a sob, clutching her hand. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here." A knock on the door jolts me from my despair. I wipe at my tear-streaked face and turn toward the sound. A man in a sharp black suit stands in the doorway, his posture stiff but composed. His presence feels entirely out of place in this moment of loss, and suspicion flickers in my mind. "Ms. Everett?" he asks, his tone polite but firm. "Yes?" My voice is hoarse, barely audible. He steps inside, closing the door softly behind him. "My name is Robert Hayes. I'm an attorney representing your late mother's estate." "Her estate?" I echo, blinking in confusion. "There's nothing to represent. She didn't have an estate-she couldn't even pay her hospital bills." Robert's expression remains calm, though a hint of unease flickers in his eyes. "That's not entirely true, Ms. Everett. Your mother held a substantial inheritance from your late father, valued at approximately ONE BILLION DOLLARS." The words land like a thunderclap, making my head spin. "What?" I whisper, my voice barely audible. "That's impossible. She never said anything-why wouldn't she use it for her treatment?" Robert hesitates, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Your mother made the inheritance conditional, placing it in a trust. The funds were given to your husband, Mr. Ryder, to manage until such time as..." He pauses, his gaze shifting uncomfortably. "Until what?" I demand, my voice rising with frustration. "Until such time as your marriage to Mr. Ryder is legally dissolved." Before I can say anything, another knock at the door startles us both. The door swings open, and my heart drops as Damion strides into the room. His presence is as commanding as ever, his tailored suit immaculate despite the late hour. "What are you doing here?" I demand, rising from the chair. My voice trembles. "I could ask you the same thing," Damion says smoothly, his eyes flicking to Robert before settling back on me. "But it seems we have unfinished business to discuss." Robert clears his throat, stepping forward. "Mr. Ryder, this is highly inappropriate. Ms. Everett has just lost her mother-" "I'm not here for pleasantries," Damion cuts him off, his tone sharp. He pulls a folder from his briefcase and places it on the table with a deliberate thud. "Isabelle, I need you to sign these documents." I glance at the folder, my stomach twisting. "What are they?" "An amendment to the trust," he says casually, as if we're discussing the weather. "It will finalize the allocation of the inheritance for our benefit." I freeze. "For 'our' benefit?" My voice rises. "Don't you mean yours? You're only here because you need my signature. This isn't about me-it's about you." Damion's jaw tightens, his calm exterior slipping for just a moment. "Isabelle, don't make this more difficult than it needs to be. I've been managing this money for years-handling your mother's medical costs, maintaining the home we shared. I deserve compensation for my efforts." My stomach churns with disbelief. "Compensation? What are you even saying?" Damion takes a step closer, his gaze cold and unflinching. "I want ninety percent of the inheritance." The air leaves my lungs, and I stare at him, stunned. "What?!" Chapter 3 Isabelle'S POV--DAMION Kaia stood in the grand sitting room of Damion's mansion, her manicured nails tapping lightly against the phone in her hand. The room was silent, save for the faint ticking of the antique clock on the mantle. Her lips curled into a sly smile as she dialed a familiar number. The line rang twice before a deep, authoritative voice answered, "Kaia." "Mr. Ryder," Kaia purred, her voice smooth and controlled. "I was just thinking about you." "Is everything under control?" Damion's father, Walter Ryder, asked, his tone clipped and impatient. Kaia sauntered to the window, glancing out at the sprawling estate. "Of course. You doubt me?" "I don't doubt you," Walter replied, though there was a note of skepticism in his voice. "I just know how... unpredictable Damion can be. I need assurance that he's staying focused." Kaia's smile widened. "Oh, he's focused, all right. He's exactly where we need him-wrapped around my finger. He's been so busy trying to prove himself to you that he hasn't even noticed how much control I have over him." Walter chuckled, though there was no humor in it. "Good. Because if he falters, everything we've worked for will be ruined. That includes you, Kaia." Her jaw tightened for a brief moment, but she quickly recovered, her tone light. "Don't worry, Mr. Ryder. I know exactly what's at stake. And as for that woman..." "Isabelle," Walter supplied coldly. "She's a problem. I've told Damion to get rid of her completely." "She's not a problem anymore," Kaia said confidently, leaning against the window frame. "That naive little f**l drained her entire inheritance for him. She's broke, humiliated, and out of his life for good. Trust me, she'll never come crawling back." Walter's voice lowered, the edge unmistakable. "Don't underestimate her. Isabelle Everett may be foolish, but she's resilient. She's still dangerous if she decides to retaliate." Kaia rolled her eyes, though she kept her voice pleasant. "Dangerous? Please. She's too soft to fight back. Besides, I'll make sure Damion stays far away from her. He won't even have a chance to let his pathetic emotions get in the way." There was a long pause on the other end of the line before Walter finally spoke. "Good. Keep him focused, Kaia. He's a Ryder, and I won't let him tarnish this family's name with his ridiculous infatuations." Kaia's smile turned cold. "Leave it to me, Mr. Ryder. I'll handle it." Walter grunted in approval before hanging up. Kaia lowered the phone, her smirk fading into a thoughtful frown. Walter's constant pressure was beginning to wear on her, but the power she held over Damion-and through him, the Ryders-was worth it. Kaia was about to head upstairs when her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and raised an eyebrow. "You're invited to the memorial service of Vivian Everett." Kaia read the message twice, her lips twisting into a mocking smile. "Oh, Isabelle," she murmured, chuckling softly. "You never learn, do you?" Without hesitation, Kaia deleted the message. She wouldn't waste her time on Isabelle's pitiful attempts at regaining control. Satisfied, she slipped her phone into her pocket and made her way to the master bedroom. The room was dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of the city lights outside. Damion lay sprawled across the bed, his face peaceful in sleep. Kaia's gaze lingered on him for a moment, a strange mix of affection and calculation crossing her features. Her eyes caught a faint light on the bedside table. It was Damion's phone, the screen glowing with a new message. Curious, Kaia walked over and picked it up. The sender's name made her pause. Isabelle. Her heart skipped a beat as she opened the message, her fingers trembling ever so slightly. "Damion, I don't know why I'm sending this, but you need to know that I've invited you to my mother's memorial. Despite everything, you were part of her life too. I hope you'll come." Kaia's lips pressed into a thin line, her ch**t tightening. For a moment, a flicker of doubt crossed her mind. Did Damion still care about Isabelle? Was there a part of him that would betray their plans for her? Her jaw clenched as she deleted the message, her expression hardening. No. She wouldn't allow it. Isabelle had already caused too many problems, and Kaia wasn't about to let her crawl back into Damion's life. She placed the phone back on the table and turned it off, ensuring there would be no further interruptions. Then, she climbed into b*d beside Damion, resting her head on the pillow with a satisfied smile. "Sweet dreams, darling," she whispered, brushing a hand over his cheek. "You're mine now." Chapter 4 Isabelle'S POV--TREMOR The test lies on the bathroom counter, the seconds ticking by as I pace the small space. Each heartbeat feels like a countdown, the anticipation almost suffocating. My ch**t rises and falls with shallow breaths as I try to prepare myself for the answer. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and finally look. Two lines. Clear. Unmistakable. Fate's teasing made me laugh bitterly. Does this late goddess think this place is not chaotic enough? - The morning of my mother's memorial came with a heavy weight pressing against my ch**t. I stared at the mirror in my bedroom, my reflection a ghost of the person I used to be. My black dress hung loosely on my frame, a reminder of the sleepless nights and endless tears. Today wasn't just about saying goodbye to my mother-it felt like saying goodbye to everything I'd once believed in. My phone buzzed on the dresser, and I glanced at it, hoping against hope to see Damion's name. Nothing. Just a slew of messages from distant relatives and acquaintances offering their condolences. My heart sank further. I took a deep breath, brushing my fingers over the delicate pendant that hung around my neck-the one my mother had given me on my eighteenth birthday. "Mom," I whispered, my voice trembling, "I hope I can make you proud today." The small chapel was filled with the soft hum of voices as guests arrived. I stood at the entrance, greeting them with a forced smile, the ache in my ch**t growing with every passing moment. Every time the door opened, I glanced up, hoping to see Damion's familiar figure. But he wasn't there. Instead, a familiar voice called my name. "Isabelle!" I turned, my heart skipping a beat. Rita, my childhood friend, pushed through the small crowd with outstretched arms. Her warm, familiar smile was a balm to my fractured soul. "Rita!" I whispered, tears springing to my eyes as I rushed into her embrace. Her arms wrapped tightly around me, and for the first time in days, I felt a small flicker of comfort. "I'm so sorry, Isabelle," she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. "I can't believe she's gone. Your mom was an incredible woman." "Thank you," I choked out, my voice barely audible. "I didn't think you'd make it." "Of course, I'd make it," she said, pulling back to look at me. Her hands rested firmly on my shoulders. "You're my best friend, and I wouldn't let you go through this alone." I gave her a weak smile, the tears streaming down my cheeks betraying the gratitude I couldn't put into words. The service began shortly after, a solemn procession of prayers and heartfelt speeches honoring my mother's life. I kept glancing at the door, my heart sinking deeper each time it remained closed. He wasn't coming. As the service ended and the guests began to mingle, I stayed near the entrance, still clinging to the hope that Damion would walk in at the last moment. Instead, Kaia appeared. The sight of her turned my stomach. She was dressed in black, but her smirk and the mocking glint in her eyes were wildly out of place. She sauntered toward me, her heels clicking against the polished floor like a countdown to disaster. "Isabelle," she said sweetly, her tone oozing with faux sympathy. "I didn't think I'd see you here, but then again, where else would you be? Clinging to your mother's memory because there's nothing else left for you." I clenched my fists at my sides, fighting the urge to lash out. "What do you want, Kaia?" I asked, my voice sharp. She tilted her head, feigning innocence. "Oh, I just wanted to deliver a message from Damion." My heart jumped. "Damion? Is he here?" Kaia's smile widened, her eyes glinting with malice. "Oh, no. He's not coming to this... pathetic little gathering." Her words hit like a s**p. "What do you mean?" She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a cruel whisper. "He told me to tell you to stop chasing after him. That you're embarrassing yourself. He doesn't care about you, Isabelle, or your mother. He said to move on with your miserable little life and stay far away from him." The room spun, Kaia's words cutting deeper than I thought possible. "You're lying," I whispered, my voice barely audible. She laughed, loud enough for others to turn and look. "Oh, honey, I don't need to lie. Damion has moved on. You should, too." Tears welled in my eyes as she turned on her heel and strutted away, leaving me standing there, shattered. The rest of the evening passed in a haze. Rita tried to comfort me, but her words barely registered. My mother was gone. Damion had abandoned me. Kaia's venomous words replayed in my mind like a broken record. As the last guest left, I sat alone in the empty chapel, staring blankly at the altar. My heart felt like it had been ripped apart, piece by piece, until there was nothing left. I leaned forward, resting my head in my hands. "I have nothing left," I whispered to no one, the words tasting like ash. "No family, no money, no future. What's the point of even trying?" My phone buzzed in my lap, and I glanced at it with little interest. But the notification caught my eye. "Job Offer: Administrative Assistant Role in Crestfield City - Apply Now." Chapter 5 Isabelle'S POV--CRESTFIELD CITY 11 Years Later The woman staring back at me in the mirror was unrecognizable from the person I'd been over a decade ago. My tailored dress hugged my figure perfectly, and my hair was styled in soft waves that exuded effortless elegance. I adjusted the diamond earrings that sparkled under the light and smirked at my reflection. Isabelle Everett, CEO of Everett Ventures. A name that carried weight in every major city. A woman who had built herself from the ground up, turning heartbreak and betrayal into power and influence. I smoothed the fabric of my dress one last time before stepping out of the car. The grand ballroom of the city's most prestigious hotel loomed ahead, glittering with chandeliers and teeming with socialites. The gala was in my honor-a celebration of my return to the city after years of success abroad. The air buzzed with excitement as I entered the room, the sound of laughter and conversation washing over me. Heads turned, whispers followed, and a sense of satisfaction bloomed in my ch**t. This was my moment. A woman with a clipboard approached me, her smile polite but professional. "Miss Everett, welcome. We're honored to host you tonight. The mayor would like to personally introduce you to the crowd in just a few moments." I nodded, offering her a graceful smile. "Thank you. Lead the way." She escorted me toward the stage, where a microphone stood waiting. I caught snippets of conversation as I passed, the awe in people's voices unmistakable. "She's stunning." "Is that Isabelle Everett? The one who made that billion-dollar merger happen?" "I heard she started with nothing. Truly remarkable." The mayor greeted me with a firm handshake and a wide grin. "Miss Everett, it's an honor to have you here tonight. Your story is an inspiration to so many." "Thank you," I replied smoothly. "It's good to be back." As the mayor began his introduction, my gaze wandered over the crowd, scanning the sea of faces. This city held so many memories, but none of them had a place here tonight. After the speech, the event shifted to mingling. I moved through the crowd, exchanging polite smiles and handshakes, keeping my guard up despite the friendly atmosphere. I turned to grab a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, but before I could take a sip, someone bumped into me. "Oh!" I gasped as the cold liquid spilled onto my dress. "Watch where you're-" I froze as I looked up, my words dying on my lips. It was him. Damion Ryder. His piercing blue eyes locked onto mine, the shock in his expression mirroring my own. For a moment, the noise of the gala faded, leaving only the pounding of my heart in my ears. "Isabelle," he breathed, his voice low and full of disbelief. My grip tightened around the glass as I forced myself to speak. "Damion." His name felt foreign on my tongue after so many years. He stared at me, his gaze sweeping over my face, my dress, the ch**pagne staining the fabric. "I didn't-" he started, but I cut him off. "It's fine," I said coldly, stepping back and setting the glass on a nearby table. My pulse raced as memories of the past came flooding back, the wounds he'd inflicted threatening to reopen. Before he could say anything else, I heard my name being called out. "Mommy..." my son ran out of a corner, and I gasped, fear swelling inside me, not wanting Damion to see him. ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &2&