Craving My Vengeful Ex-wife

[ BROOKLYN ]

“Who did you say is responsible for your pregnancy?”

My mother’s voice trembles as she asks the question. She sits across from me on the bed, her face drained of color. From downstairs, the muffled sounds of laughter, music, and clinking glasses drift up. The Armani anniversary party is in full swing.

Tears blur my vision. This is exactly how I imagined she’d react.

“Lance.” I whisper, the name tasting bitter against my tongue. 

Her breath stutters. She exhales sharply, like she’s holding back a scream.

“No…” Her head shakes, slow at first, then faster. Tears spill as her brows pull together. “No, Brooklyn. Tell me you’re lying.”

She moves closer, her trembling hands gripping mine. They’re cold and damp, just like mine. “Tell me I didn’t hear you right. Tell me you’re not pregnant for your husband’s younger brother.”

A sob tears out of me. I drop my gaze, my chest tightening until it hurts to breathe. Mascara streaks my cheeks, staining my skin and the expensive dress I wore for tonight. But that’s the least of my worries.

“It’s him, Mom.”

Her lips tremble, her shoulders shaking. “How long?” she whispers. “How long has this been happening?”

“Since my marriage to Izaac.”

A tear finally releases from her eye as I say that. 

Watching my mother’s heart shatter, the guilt crushes what little strength I have left. I don’t even know how my life ended up here, but if there is one person to blame, it is him.

My husband.

Izaac Armani.

The man I married through an arrangement between our families. The man who left the country the night of our wedding, just hours after the reception, claiming business needed him abroad. That was one year ago. One full year without a call or even a check-in text.

It was as if as soon as he’d married me to gain access to his inheritance, he’d immediately erased me from his life.

And handed me to his brother.

Because that same night of our wedding, while I lay alone in the marital bed, Lance came into my room. It was him who touched me. Who took what was meant for my husband. And he did it again, and again and again, until it seemed as though it was him who I was meant for.

And the Armanis knew.

His father: Odion Armani, his mother: Cordelia, and even his sister, Paris, the girl I once called a friend. They all knew what was happening under their roof and did nothing about it.

Sometimes, I wondered if this was the plan all along: Izaac marrying me for his brother.

They bullied me together, never letting me forget my family’s bankruptcy and our fall from grace to grass. I should be grateful, they said. Grateful they took me in. They mocked me, excluded me, stripped me of every shred of dignity.

You might think I was foolish for staying silent.

But I couldn’t speak.

This marriage wasn’t just an arrangement. It was a debt payment.

My father and Odion Armani had once been business partners. Friends. When my father’s company collapsed, Mr. Odion’s money went with it. Hundreds of thousands of dollars, gone. And Mr. Odion demanded repayment, even after my father lost everything.

Then Odion’s father died.

For Izaac to inherit the Armani empire, he needed to be married and since he was known throughout Miami to be a playboy with no real romantic relationship going on, his family had to scout for a wife for him.

That was when I became currency.

My father struck a deal: I marry Izaac and Odion clears the debt.

Understanding my family's present predicament, I didn’t put up a fight or complain. I willingly gave up my dream of becoming a globally renowned figure skater without hesitation. I thought sacrificing myself would give my parents peace.

But I was dead wrong.

Two months after my wedding, my father died of cardiac arrest. And now, this is my fate. 

Not only have I failed my family, I have also disgraced their name. I would be remembered as the shameless daughter-in-law who slept with her husband’s brother and got pregnant while her husband was away.

My mother found out tonight. A pregnancy test slipped from my drawer and she saw it before I could hide it. The horrific look in her eyes nearly destroyed me.

“No… no…” She stands abruptly, yanking her hand from mine. Tears ruin her makeup as rage hardens her face. “All this happened to you, and you never bothered to tell me?!”

“I’m sorry, Mom—”

“Don’t fucking apologize.” Her voice cuts my words short, laced with warning. “They did this to you. And I swear, every single one of them will pay.”

Fear crawls up my spine. “What are you going to do?”

She doesn’t answer. Just storms out.

Panic slams into me as I realize where she’s headed.

Downstairs. To the party.

“Mom, wait!” I cry, lifting my dress as I run after her.

The living room is packed. Elites and business associates laugh beneath crystal chandeliers. Odion Armani stands at the center, wine glass raised, Cordelia at his side. Everyone watches him like he’s a saint.

If only they know the monster he is.

“Odion, you son of a bitch!” My mother screams.

The room goes silent and every head turns.

Whispers ripple as she marches forward, rage blazing, with me trailing behind her.

Odion frowns. “Susan, what the hell—”

Her fist crashes into his face, stealing the words from his mouth. 

Gasps explode around us. Even I stop cold to my feet, breathe pausing and eyes widening in shock.

Odion staggers, clutching his cheek, blinking in disbelief.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Lance snaps, stepping forward from beside Paris who is dressed in a flashy pink dress with her fellow influencer friends. 

Before he reaches her, my mother’s palm cracks across his face too.

The room gets colder.

“You bastard!” She snarls, grabbing his collar and yanking him forward. Tears stream down her face, but she doesn’t care about the guests whose phones are raised and media press whose cameras are still rolling, capturing the tense moment. “You did this to my daughter! How dare you lay your filthy hands on her!”

The look that crosses the Armanis’ faces is enough to tell that they know what she’s talking about. The panicked expressions aren't hard to miss. 

Odion steps closer, lowering his voice through clenched teeth. “Susan, let him go. We can discuss this privately—”

“I won’t!” She screams. “I want the world to know what your family did to my daughter!”

Shame burns through me as camera flashes light up the room. I want the floor to swallow me whole.

Just then, Odion gives a sharp signal and the moment he does so, security moves fast.

They pry my mother’s hands off Lance and drag her backward, one of them clamping a hand over her mouth to silence her screams.

“Mom!” I scream, rushing forward. But strong arms lock around me from behind.

Lance.

My skin crawls at his touch. “Let go of me!” I struggle, thrashing uselessly, but he’s too strong.

Instead, he drags me upstairs, ignoring my cries as they haul my mother out like a criminal. I hear Odion apologizing to the guests for the ‘misunderstanding’ that will be handled at once. The party resumes like what happened was nothing but a slight inconvenience.

Once we reach my door, Lance pushes it open and shoves me inside. I fall hard, pain shooting through my wrist.

A cold smirk tugs at his lips as he just stands there, filling the doorway, watching me struggle. “Really?” he says calmly. “You and your mother thought you could destroy my family’s name right in front of the public, after everything we’ve done for you?”

“You’ll pay for this,” I choke out, glaring up at him through burning tears. “I swear on my life.”

A short, amused laugh escapes his lips. “I’d like to see you try.” Then he turns away. “Stay in there like a good girl, and don’t make a sound. You and your mother will get the attention you’re looking for after the party’s over.”

The door locks.

The moment his footsteps fade, I collapse, sobbing. I hit myself, over and over, my hands shaking. This is all my fault. I should’ve done something sooner. I should’ve stopped this before it got this far. 

It’s my fault. All of it.

I don’t know how long I stay there crying. I don’t even know when the party ends or how much time passes.

But I hear it. A sharp, piercing scream.

My mother’s scream. 

Followed by the sickening thud of a body hitting the ground, accompanied by the unmistakable crack of bones breaking.

My heart stops instantly, stomach twisting.

My ears ring as I scramble to my feet and rush to the window. My hands shake as I push it open and look down into the darkness.

Even in the night, I see it clearly.

Her red dress. The shimmering gems catching what little light there is. Her body twisted unnaturally on the ground below.

Still, and unmoving. Dead.

Before I can even process what I’m seeing, the door swings open behind me.

I spin around immediately to see Lance standing there. His eyes glint with cruel amusement, making my blood run cold. And his hands… they’re crimson stained.  

A horrified sob tears free from my throat. Is that… is that my mother’s blood on his hands? 

He starts to step closer to me, slowly with voice as chilly as death. “Now, love… let’s get this over with.”