Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi
My ex-husband is getting married.
and.... I’m the one hired to plan the wedding.
My name is Arabella Paloma Garcia.
Five years ago, I was arranged to marry an Italian heir with an angel’s face and the personality of something between a blizzard and a natural disaster: Rafael Vittorio Ricciardi.
We spent one year of marriage arguing hard enough to make a lawyer retire early.
Then his ex came back, and I left with a divorce bracelet on my finger… and a pair of babies in my belly.
Now I live in San Francisco.
I own a wedding planning company, I’m a single mom to two demon twins, and I’m very, very proud of the fact that the name Ricciardi doesn’t appear anywhere in my life.
Until one email lands in my inbox: Ricciardi–Marino Wedding.
Groom: Rafael Vittorio Ricciardi.
Bride: Alessandra Marino… the woman who once became the reason I got kicked out of his life.
I should’ve said no.
But Alessandra is infuriating, and I want to prove I’m over Rafael. So I take the job.
But he walks in with a cold stare that sends my stomach straight to the floor.
No recognition.
A helicopter crash two years ago wiped six years of his life.
Including me.
Including our marriage.
Perfect. I’ll plan my ex-husband’s wedding, send him down the aisle, and go back to my life.
The plan goes smoothly.
Right up until the wedding day.
The bride disappears.
The guests are waiting.
The media is already rolling.
And Rafael closes the bridal suite door… drops a bomb that earns him my fist in his face:
“You’re the one who going to walk down the aisle with me.”
Baca
Chapter: Glass Mansion, Soft MonstersFive Years Later.“AL, STOP PULLING MY HAIR, I’M A PRINCESS!”“UGLY PRINCESS!”Something small, warm, and heavy slammed into my waist. Then something else landed on my stomach. I didn’t wake up because of an alarm, but because two tiny bodies decided I was their personal playground.“Oh God,” I rasped, my face buried in the pillow. “Why do I have two children and not just one I can return to the factory.”“She said I’m an UGLY PRINCESS,” Gabby, or Gabriella, shrieked right in my ear, her voice sharp enough to referee a World Cup final. Her black curls were a mess, her big gray eyes already full of tears, her round cheeks flushed with outrage. Her pink pajama top with little crowns had ridden up, exposing a small round belly that usually melted me on sight.Usually. Not in harpy mode.AL, or Alvaro, was sitting comfortably on my thighs like his bony little legs weren’t murdering my circulation. His dinosaur pajamas were wrinkled, his darker, straighter black hair sticking up in every d
Terakhir Diperbarui: 2026-02-11
Chapter: Sunlight and Divorce PapersI woke up because the sun slapped me in the face. White-gold light speared through the thin curtains, landing directly on my eyelids that had never volunteered to become solar panels. I blinked slowly, trying to gather the pieces of my soul scattered across the sheets.The clock on the nightstand read 10:03.I stared at it for a long moment. My brain needed a few seconds to connect the facts.I.Woke up.At ten. A.m.Usually by six I was already up, sitting in the kitchen with coffee, staring at Lake Como or a bug on my screen. Now my whole body felt weighed down with concrete.I rolled slowly to the other side of the bed.The sheets were still warm. But the space beside me was empty. Rafael’s pillow was cold, no trace of the shape of his head. All that was left were creases in the sheets and the faint ghost of his cologne, tangled with something I did not want to define too clearly unless I wanted to throw up my feelings.His chest had been under my head last night. His hands… his mo
Terakhir Diperbarui: 2026-02-11
Chapter: He Never Chose Me“Wow,” I said at last, closing the door behind me with a soft click. “I thought you were still busy having a reunion with your ex.”His gaze dropped for a second, traveling down my body. From the thin heels, to my bare legs, to where the dress cinched at my waist, to the neckline that was bold enough to qualify as a friendly reminder that you’re married.Then it came back up to my face. “Midnight,” he said coldly. “You’re just getting home.”I dropped my clutch onto the side table and walked in, my heels slicing through the silence. “I’ll admit, Italy has great nightlife. You should try it sometime. Oh, wait… you already started.”Something tightened in his jaw. “I was at a business dinner.”“Business that wears a tight nude dress and an entire bottle of highlighter on her cheekbones?” I lifted a brow. “Nice. Very modern of your father.”“Paparazzi are everywhere,” he replied coolly. “They can crop anyone into a photo.”“Unfortunately, they didn’t crop your hand off her back.” I let o
Terakhir Diperbarui: 2026-02-11
Chapter: Platinum BarbieSeven p.m., and Lake Como looked like an expensive postcard that had been photographed to death. Deep blue, almost black. Villa lights scattered messily across the water. A thin veil of fog hovering low, like a cheap Instagram filter no one bothered to turn off.From the study window facing the lake, everything reduced itself to silhouettes. Water. Distant lights. And my own reflection in the glass.My hair was tied back neatly now. The Columbia T-shirt was gone, replaced by an oversized black hoodie. My laptop sat open, the screen crowded with lines of code and Raj’s sharp commentary from Boston.Raj: Can you PLEASE stop writing like you’re trying to flirt with the compiler, Ara?Raj: The function either works or it doesn’t. It doesn’t need to be sexy.I snorted softly, fingers still flying across the keyboard. “My compiler might not need sexy,” I muttered, eyes glued to the screen. “But my life does.”On the desk: two empty coffee mugs, yellow sticky notes scattered like casualties,
Terakhir Diperbarui: 2026-02-11
Chapter: The WifeThe small pan hissed softly as the oil heated, the sharp scent of roughly crushed garlic already filling the kitchen before I realized I was humming. Fuck.A Shakira song.Wildly off-brand for this morning’s mood, which had gone to hell at five twelve a.m. sharp, when Arsen, the technological bastard I’ve called my enemy since we were both fermenting in Mama’s womb, spammed my WhatsApp with fifteen random memes and one AI-generated video of Harry Potter lip-syncing a reggaeton song.Fifteen.Memes.One morning.God forgive him.I stirred the arepa batter in the second pot, muttering Spanish profanity under my breath. “Idiota con Wi-Fi…”My fingers moved fast, like they always do, multitasking between dodging hot oil and stabilizing my mood before a ten a.m. mafia wedding.And because God apparently designed my life to stay a glamorous circle of hell, the sliding door opened with a soft whisper.Then footsteps. Controlled. Elegant. Intimately familiar with the chaos inside my skull.“I
Terakhir Diperbarui: 2026-02-02
Masuk
