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GABRIELLA
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2025-05-05 00:29:05Chapter 1
GABRIELLAIt had been three years, seven months, and nine days since my husband and I had gotten married in court, in the presence of both our parents.
The only reason that Kian Rhys, the twenty-five-year-old billionaire with a net worth of billions of dollars had agreed to marry an ugly little, weak, and unknown girl like me was that my father owed his father and I was only compensation and a means to clear my father's debt.
“Kian,” I called walking behind my husband as he pulled the jacket of his navy blue suit from his body, throwing it on the chair.
“Please speak to me.” My voice was low, he stopped abruptly and turned to face me, his green eyes piercing almost harming me. I gulped hard and took a step backward. His gaze was too hard. His body towered over me as I raised my head to look at him. I tried so hard to keep our eyes locked but he looked too angry.
His sharp jaw tightened, and he pinched his beautiful pointed nose trying so hard to keep his anger in check.
“Do you see the way they spoke to me? How much longer do I have to ask my father for more time? When are you going to give me a CHILD?” He raised his voice and the little girl in me got heartbroken for the fifth time today.
“Kia..” I parted my lips open to speak but he stopped me.
“I need a child, Gabriella.” He lowered himself on the chair in the very large living room of his mansion. His shoulder slouched and his face to the floor.
“I’m trying, Kian. The doctor said we should give it time.” I pressed my lips together.
“It’s been three years already, how much more time do you need? I had taken you on a vacation last month because I thought you were stressed but there’s still nothing.” I bit my lips. I will not cry, I will not cry. I chanted.
“I need more time, Kian.” I pressed my lips together after speaking and lowered my eyes to my feet.
I spoke again because I needed this man that I called my husband to understand me.
“I need you to support me, if you don’t support me how do you think this would work? Yes, you took me on a vacation last month but Kian you were on your phone the whole time and you only gave me attention at night when we made love…” I paused, tears building up in the corner of my eyes. I hated to think about it but this man had treated me like I had never mattered for the past years that we’ve been married.
“You don’t make love to me, you don’t.” His eyes widened and he glared hard at me like
I was lying.
“What the hell are you talking about?” He stood from his chair and I took a step backward scared that he would do something stupid.
“You just fuck the hell out of me until I’m exhausted and you hurt me a lot, you do it like you’re forced to do it. Most times I wake up unable to walk and you never notice. You come back home and you repeat the same thing. I know you don’t love me but hurting me because you need a child is disgusting behavior.” The tears I had been holding in since the beginning of the day slid down my cheeks.
I hated that he was seeing me cry so I wiped my eyes immediately.
“I don’t do that to you.” His words were plain and filled with denial. What had I expected that he would apologize? How silly of you, Ella.
“Yes you do, Kian Rhys. You do it all the time and I am sick and tired of you acting like I am not important. I am as important as you are and maybe if you can give me even a little bit of kindness and love, you would have the child you want.” I took another step backward as memories of all the years that I had spent expecting even a single affection from this man but never got.
Why would I? I was never his type and if he had his way, he would never speak to me or talk more about marrying me but we were both forced.
The love and affection I didn’t get from my family, I expected it from him. I had so many expectations from him and it broke me when he treated me like I was just an object of his desire.
“I know you don’t love me, you just need me to bear children for you, and in that aspect, I have failed but I need you to be a husband to me. I need you to love me or don’t I deserve to be loved?” I wiped my eyes immediately seeing the look on his face, he was shocked, it was the first time he saw me crying and I hated it.
I hated everything I was facing, the pang in my chest that never went away. It was all terrible.
“You know the reason why I need a child.”
“It is not my freaking fault that we can’t have a child now. There’s nothing wrong with us, the doctor keeps telling me that it’s my emotions…” I paused.
“I should leave.” I turned to leave the sitting room but I was headed out, I didn’t want to be in the same house with this man, I couldn’t.
“Where the hell are you going to?” His voice raised angrily. He was angry at me.
“I need to get myself in order, I’ve faced too much tongue-lashing than I can handle normally.”
It was his father’s birthday party and as usual, they had blamed me and rained insults on me for not giving them a grandchild yet. It hurt because my father and stepmother joined them and my husband couldn’t say a word to stop anyone.
“It’s 10 pm for fuck sake.” He groaned and I rolled my eyes. Since when did he care that I would be out by 10 pm?
“I’ll be at Audrey’s, at least she loves me.” Without another word for me, I ran out of the house and got into my car.
I got to Audrey’s apartment twenty minutes later, grabbed my purse, and got out of the car, tracing my step to her front porch. I rang the doorbell and in seconds the door flew open.
Audrey was clad in soft pink pajamas and her blonde hair was rolled in a bun, her jaw dropped and her eyes widened on seeing me, I could tell she was worried, I had tears in my eyes so she was.
“Ella…” she pulled her hands apart and I ran into her for comfort.
“Heavens.” She held me for a few minutes while I cried so hard.
“It’s okay, baby.” She muttered and I finally raised my head and stared at her.
“Let’s get you inside.” She let go of me and then closed her door before leading me to her living room couch.
“What did he do this time?” Her hands were on her waist as she stared at me. I dropped the glass of water she handed on the side table, took in a deep breath, and began to explain all that had happened.
“I hate that man, I hate all of them. He might be the impotent one.” Audrey wasn’t one to care about how her words would offend another person.
“Audrey..” I gasped.
“Look, Ella. I’m proud of you for speaking up and walking away but I know you, he’ll ask you to come back tomorrow and you will.”
“I’m not giving up on my marriage,” I replied.
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Chapter 11Of course, I heard the news.It was everywhere.My wife—Fuck! Even saying that out loud sounded strange.My wife was back.But not just back.Back and making headlines.I cursed Alfred under my breath.Stupid old man. How do you let a mere girl walk in and take your company out from under you?And the worst part? He didn’t even know it was her.I scoffed, shifting in bed, my arm draped over the blonde passed out beside me. The stench of cheap perfume lingered, sticky and sour.I’ve always been careful. Always.My company was solid. No weak points. No gaps in control. I'd never let anyone blindside me like Alfred just had.I was mid-thought when she stirred beside me, her fingers trailing across my chest.Pathetic.“Don’t touch me,” I barked, swatting her hand away. “Get out.”She blinked, confused. “What? Why—”“Get. Out.” My voice dropped lower, bitter.“You’re just another desperate whore looking for a rich man to cling to,” I growled.She scrambled, throwing on last nig
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Chapter 10“Touchdown,” I whispered as the wheels hit the tarmac.Theo sat up straight beside me, eyes glued to the window. “We’re in New York, mama?”“We are, baby.”He leaned closer, fogging the glass with his breath. “It’s so big.”“Yeah,” I murmured. “It always was.”The airport was crowded, loud as usual.“Don’t let go of my hand, okay?” I said.He nodded, clutching my hand tightly, his eyes wide as we stepped through the automatic doors at JFK.“Where’s Aunt Audrey?” he asked, tugging gently on my coat.“Right there,” I whispered, spotting her just past the crowd.And God,Audrey.She stood near the black car with tinted windows, one hand on her hip, her other holding her phone. Her heels clicked sharply against the pavement as she walked toward us,“You look like power,” I said as she reached us.She smiled, lowering her sunglasses. “That’s because I was dressed by the devil herself.”Theo ran into her arms.“Aunt Audrey!” he squealed.She picked him up like he weighed nothing.
Ex-Wife’s Revenge GABRIELLA
Chapter 9The scent of espresso mingled with fabric glue and silk in the air of my Parisian studio, my sanctuary. Sunlight spilled through the wide windows, casting shadows over bolts of velvet and sketches pinned to corkboards. I stood behind the main worktable, carefully stitching the final crystal embellishments onto a custom evening gown for Crown Princess Alina of Lichtenberg. A statement piece. Timeless. Ruthless. Just like the woman wearing it.And just like the woman creating it.My phone buzzed beside the sewing machine. I wiped my hands on a cloth before picking it up.Audrey:Your father’s company just received a massive anonymous loan. New investor, supposedly. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that… would you? A slow smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I set the phone down. My reflection in the glass showed the same calm mask I wore every day, but beneath it, a fire burned.They had no idea the investor they were bragging about was me.Or at least, the name
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Chapter 8Paris.It wasn’t grand.Not when I arrived jet-lagged, broken, and barely holding myself together with a frayed scarf and the cash Audrey had pressed into my hands. The city of lights didn’t dazzle me then. It just felt cold, unfamiliar. And painfully expensive.I slept on a friend-of-a-friend’s couch in a tiny Montmartre apartment for the first few weeks. No heating. Mold on the ceiling. But it was freedom.By day, I scrubbed tables in a crowded café tucked between a bookstore and a creperie. By night, I attended a small, underfunded fashion school in the 18th arrondissement—La Maison de Couture Artisanale. It wasn’t glamorous, but it gave me purpose.“You’ve got something,” Madame Duclair, my pattern instructor, said once, inspecting a draped muslin I’d worked on all week. “You stitch pain into beauty. Don’t lose that.”I didn’t know what she meant until months later.Two years passed in a blur of threading needles, spilled coffee, and prenatal vitamins. The pregnancy ha
Ex-Wife’s Revenge GABRIELLA
Chapter 7The sting.The sharp sound of a slap.My father’s ring left a mark that day, right below my cheekbone.I still remember the way he looked at me afterward. Cold.“You’re not my daughter,” he had said.No shouting. No pleading. Just... silence.From the corner of my eye, I saw them.Rebecca. Kian.Standing just behind him silent, composed, watching.Rebecca with her smug little smirk barely hidden behind false sympathy.Kian with that familiar blankness on his face, the kind he wore when he didn’t want to get his hands dirty.What had they told him?I blinked, clearing my head,as Audrey’s soft voice reached me.“You okay?” she asked gently, sitting beside me.I nodded, even though I wasn’t.For three long days, Audrey had been my everything.She barely left my side. Cooked even when I couldn’t eat, held me while I cried.Each night, I lay curled on her couch, staring at the ceiling as Kian’s voice echoed in my head, cold and final as he ended our marriage.But it was Audrey’s
Ex-Wife’s Revenge GABRIELLA
Chapter 6 As I stepped into the house that was never my home, I walked past the remains of my shattered dreams. Dreams of raising my children here, of being loved here, more like shattered delusions, i sighed The place had always been cold, but now it felt hollow. Emptier than I remembered. Each step echoed as I passed through the hallway and into the kitchen. On the marble counter, something caught my eye a slick piece of paper, laid out like it was waiting for me. I moved closer, my chest tightening. It was the divorce papers. Already signed. Next to it sat an expensive ballpoint pen, silver and sleek, the kind he always carried around for signing deals that cost more than my entire life. Of course he’d be prepared. Of course he’d make it a business. I had signed a prenup, without a child, I wasn’t entitled to a dime of his fortune. Not the house. Not the car. Not even the wedding dress I’d once believed meant something. Just as I turned to leave, something e
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