Prologue: Motive

Be Mine Again, Darling Ex Wife.

©️Copyright by DaVe 2023.

®️All Rights Reserved.

Prologue: Motive.

Lisa’s Point Of View

I grew up in miseries, memories of my traumatic childhood sticking to my brain like a porous plaster patching a surface.

Lost my mother to the cancer of the brain at the young age of seven, my father on the other hand becoming a drunkard psychopath who took his grief out on us; his three young children after the loss.

Memory of that night carved deeply in my head I can’t forget even if I try to, the same night I turned eight and my father returned home drunk.

I was the last child of the family and the only girl, my father decided his birthday gift for me that very day was to break my virginity and leave me scarred for the rest of my life.

He attempted the treacherous act by locking himself up in my room, trapping me under his evil clutches.

My two brothers heard my wailing, they broke down my door instantly engaging themselves in a battle with my father in bid for my safety.

Luckily only my clothes were tore with few bruises on my arm for escaping his grasps whenever they laid on me.

He was a psycho and was not really in control of his actions, but those actions of his that particular night became a scene that stuck deep inside my head never to fade away.

Curled up in a corner with tears streaming down my little eyes, I watched him breaking off my mirror with the head of my oldest brother.

From the broken pieces of the glass he took a long piece not minding the pain it was inflicting on himself.

I could only scream with an heart wrenching sorrow swallowing me up as I witness him slicing my brother’s throat and leaving his body to bleed to death.

My other brother ran out as soon as he saw that, I deduced he went to the kitchen when he returned with a knife. The same knife he plunged into my father’s stomach from behind.

He stared down at himself, glancing back at his son who was behind him meeting his demise. Nobody was expecting it, but I was expecting the emotional trauma my system fits into.

Finalizing my experience, I saw the hand that held the piece of glass he took from the broken pieces swung backward as he delve the piece into my brother’s neck. The both killing each other right in front of my eyes.

I lost everything that night.

I was given up to the foster care by the government and was later adopted by two loving couples. Life didn’t get any better, that night haunted me every second of my growing life.

And I graduated high school never forgetting that night. My academics were my therapist and the only remedy to the pain often acquired whenever my past starts to haunt me.

My foster parents developed an affection for me, they took care of me and was set to give me the world if I ever ask for it.

However, the joy they offered was soon dangling on a thin thread about to cut loose when both were diagnosed with the same sickness that took my mom away from me.

I was not ready to lose both of them, I was in college studying for Business Managements, hoping to sit one job at a successful company after my graduation and take good care of them.

Then I met him while I was leaving from the visit I had come to give to my sick foster parents.

I overheard him talking to his sick mother who wanted him in a marriage because her time seems to be limited.

I knew him because he was well known in the city, and the same night I came across him the second time conversing with another man he must be acquainted with.

He was rambling on how he needed a wife urgently to please his mother, the phrase that had me introducing myself to him was no less than, “I’m willing to pay any amount of cash.”

I jumped right at the opportunity, signing my life right up for hell. At least, I had the finance to keep my foster parents from dying.

Both survived, and I was a month deep into the contractual marriage. He never gave me attention, he was always on his own, as I was on mine.

Albeit, we never spend any time together. I still couldn’t stop my heart from starting to beat for him, I mean he’s a man with perfect looks that could pull on any woman’s heart strings. I fell for his looks, that I can boldly admit.

I did finish college and became a full house wife because he wouldn’t allow me go anywhere but to visit my parents or go shopping. The marriage was to end whenever his mother die, but to our surprises she’s far from her grave.

Two years deep into the marriage and it was still the same between us, but totally different with his life.

He would bring in ladies and sleep with them knowing very much I’m his wife. I take that he has no idea I’m in love with him, so I confess to him.

He shunned my feelings and went on with his life never minding my existence, a different kind of rejection.

He fell sick at the third year of our marriage, really sick he was paralyzed and bed ridden for close to ten months.

I was there for him throughout, and during that period my foster parents returned back to being admitted.

On the race to keep both people I loved alive, I lost the run and the sacrifice was my foster parents dying.

I chose my husband and was wind up taking care of him so much lesser time were spared for me to give to my foster parents, even his mother wasn’t there for him the way I was.

He got better and I thought his perception of me would changed, but I was wrong. He rewarded my care with money, which I rejected of course and ask for his love instead. A request that meant nothing.

He went back to behaving like before, even worse as this time he leveled up becoming more cruel with me. Chased me out of his room, have me punished by starving me if I wrong him in the slightest bit; he went as far as locking me up in the room given to me because he doesn’t wish to see my face for some days.

I endured this for a whole year, and a whole four years were gone into marriage with him. I was beginning to regret why I ever agreed in the first place, I lost the purpose of my life in relationship with him.

He was inhumane towards me and that I was very aware of, but the affection I abhorred for him only clouded his mistreatment.

I endured all of this for months longer after the years wasted till I decided to quit it all. I was going to leave him, already packed my bags and everything when he showed up at the entrance of my room.

He sank to his knees; begging me to stay and to forgive him. I had wipe my eyes numerous times to see if I was dreaming, but I wasn’t and he truly was kneeling on the floor with a sincere apologetic face asking me to stay.

Of course I honored his request which was just two months ago, things changed between us like I have always wanted.

However, his past was still his past. I caught him cheating on me twice after he accepted my feelings and propose his apology.

He asked for forgiveness the first time, and promised never to do it again the second time.

I believed him, I really do. But then I shouldn’t have, I should have walk away that day I decided it is time to leave him.

I should have trusted my gut and leave him. He broke my heart, useless my affections like they were nothing, and I do not blame him. I blame myself instead, for being nothing than a fool when it comes to him. The third time happened and it was the last I decided to take.

So I vow, to become that one thing he would want and will never get, that one thing he already has but lost and now would regret loosing it. I vowed to make him regret ever losing me.

It was the promise I made to myself, and I sure as hell was going to fulfill that promise.

It was the perfect revenge, and I found the solace I have always longed for in the arms of his rival that wasn’t really the enemy everyone painted him to be.

Callan Myers used to be his best friend, a scandal led to their friendship ending and the whole world seeing Callan in a new light.

Nobody really knew the truth behind the scandal, they all judged the poor man with Kurt’s filthy words and till now he was blacklisted in the country.

He is the perfect candidate to team up with and work against the downfall of my ex husband.

Prepare to see the worst Kurt Briggs.