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2026-04-30 19:53:16
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Ex-husband Wanted an Open Marriage With My Sister 64
A layer of fine water droplets condensed on the wall of the champagne glass, reflecting the shimmering phantom in the grand hall. Sophie, that name had been swirling in my mind for several days, and now she stood right before me. The panic on her face was like ripples on water stirred by the wind, fleeting, replaced by a layer of hard and smooth ice.She placed the glass in her hand, crossed her arms, and her fiery red long dress, like a flickering flame, made her stand out distinctly in the crowd."I didn't recognize you." Sophie sneered, the carefully drawn line of her lips curving into a sarcastic arc. "So it's the renowned Walsh lawyer. What, the name of Mrs. Rich isn't enough for you now? You have to go back to your old trade, relying on our 'old cases' to grab attention?"Her voice wasn't loud, but it was as sharp as a needle, and the few guests who looked this way showed expressions of enjoying the show."Miss Sophie is now a rising star heavily backed by Mr. Hayes, so naturall
Ex-husband Wanted an Open Marriage With My Sister 63
My footsteps echoed in the empty corridor, each step feeling like shattering the illusions of the past seven years. Behind me, the mahogany door, a symbol of family warmth, seemed to separate two worlds. My world was cold marble and an unknown future; while his world held everything I had once cherished—the home I had decorated with my own hands, and the son I had loved with all my might.“Jennifer!”Alexander's roar came from behind, his voice devoid of any feigned warmth, only a hysterical panic of impending loss of control."Don't forget, I bought that law firm for you! Sunlit Legal is my property! I can take it back anytime and make you a complete joke!"My steps faltered for a mere half-second.I knew he was telling the truth. The ultimate beneficiary of the acquisition agreement was him—Alexander Ritchie. He thought this threat would, as before, make me stop and turn back to my self-imposed safety zone.I didn't turn around and continued walking towards the elevator. The sound o
Ex-husband Wanted an Open Marriage With My Sister 62
The soft thud of the crystal ashtray hitting the plush carpet was deafening, a punctuation mark at the end of a sentence I hadn't yet finished writing. My hand, which had just wielded it like a weapon, hung limply at my side, tingling with the phantom sensation of impact. The scent of ozone and spilled scotch filled the air, acrid and sharp, a battlefield smell.And then, Daniel's voice, small and sharp as a shard of that broken glass, pierced the suffocating silence.“Daddy, you’re bleeding!” His cry was pure, unadulterated terror. He scrambled into Alexander’s arms, his small body a shield of frantic, misguided loyalty. “Did Mommy hurt you? Mommy is bad!”*Mommy is bad.*The words, uttered by the person I loved most in the world, did not feel like a stab wound. They felt like a complete system shutdown. My breath stopped. The frantic rhythm of my heart, which had been pounding against my ribs a moment ago, seemed to simply cease. There was a low roar in my ears, the sound of my own
Ex-husband Wanted an Open Marriage With My Sister 61
The early morning mist hung over Manhattan’s steel jungle like a damp gauze. I parked my car beneath Alexander’s ultra-private penthouse apartment. This place was close to his company—a spot he stayed in occasionally when he worked far too late, not wanting to head home and disturb Daniel and me. It was also where he’d once brought me to watch our first winter snow together.Looking back now, all those gestures he’d labeled thoughtfulness were probably just conveniences arranged for another woman.I stepped into the lobby. The familiar front desk manager wore a mix of shock and embarrassment on his face. Dressed in my mist-blue suit, I carried a black leather briefcase. Tucked inside its inner pocket, a tiny beetle-shaped recording device, cold and sleek, was already on.“Mrs. Rich.” The manager bowed his head.“I’m here to see Alexander,” I said, my tone calm and unwavering.“Mr. Rich left word. You may go straight to the top floor anytime.”I said nothing and walked directly toward
Ex-husband Wanted an Open Marriage With My Sister 60
The lingering scent of cedar and tobacco left by Caspian still hung heavy in the air, yet I forced myself not to dwell on that tall, indifferent silhouette. Outside the window, the downtown streets were torn to shreds by neon lights. I sat across from Rita, holding a cup of lukewarm water in my hands; the lines on my palms looked like dense, tangled cracks beneath the glass.Rita drew the curtains shut in one sharp, swift motion, and an air of tense vigilance instantly spread through the office. She pulled out the Montblanc fountain pen once praised by their mentor as “the spear of justice” from her briefcase, then laid open a stack of pale yellow lined paper.“Alright, Jenny. Stop thinking about that man, and forget that ridiculous press conference.” Rita’s voice was like a scalpel, sharp and untainted by emotion. “We’re going to talk about Alex—and how you can legally, thoroughly… tear up that marriage certificate crawling with parasites.”I took a deep breath, a faint burning sensa
Ex-husband Wanted an Open Marriage With My Sister 59
Decoy. Of course.The word slammed into my consciousness with the force of a physical blow. The café, a moment ago a swirling vortex of panic, snapped back into sharp, crystalline focus. The clatter of a distant fork, the rich bitterness of burnt espresso, the barely-there whisper of Rita's breath beside me. Everything became preternaturally clear, centered around the man standing before me."Now," he said, his gaze returning to me, intense and unwavering, "are you ready to tear their world apart?"That question—it wasn't a provocation. It was a promise. An invitation to a war he had already declared on my behalf. The icy fear that had gripped my spine began to melt, replaced by a slow-burning heat that started deep in my gut and spread outward, licking at my veins, making my fingertips tingle.Alexander’s face flashed in my mind—his frustration at the gala, the way his knuckles had turned white on his scotch glass. His threats. The chilling, soulless voice of his lawyer. He had come
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