Falling for my Billionaire Ex Again!

Natalie’s POV:

"What a hectic day.” I sighed, relaxing in the driver’s seat. 

But despite how exhausted I was, I couldn't stop smiling.

Tonight was everything I ever dreamed of. My paintings debuted at the gallery, and I received recognition from some of the most renowned artists in the industry. 

I glanced at my phone, half-expecting a message from Ethan. He came early but left almost immediately for an emergency meeting. I understood, of course. He always worked hard for us, for our future.

I bit my lip, to suppress a smile. 

I couldn't stop picturing him, waiting for me. Already changed into his sweatpants, lounging on the couch with a glass of whiskey in hand. 

Maybe he asked the maids to prepare something extraordinary. Maybe he ordered takeout. Maybe he’s waiting to celebrate my success properly.

Pulling into the driveway, my heart swelled with anticipation.

The house was dark except for the porch light. Strange. Ethan usually makes sure the maids leave a few lights on whenever he’s home.

Shaking off the odd feeling creeping up my spine, I stepped out of the car, grabbed my purse, and made my way to the front door. I rang the bell, and within seconds, the door swung open.

Jamie, our maid, stood there, offering a smile. "Good evening, ma’am."

I returned the smile. "Hey, Jamie. How are you?"

"I’m good, ma’am. How was your event?"

"Perfect.” I smiled. "Is Ethan back?"

She nodded. "Yes, ma’am. He came in a while ago."

He's home. I was right—maybe he was waiting for me inside, ready to celebrate. I stepped in, and the moment I did, something felt off.

The house was quiet, too quiet. There’s no TV playing in the background, no sound of Ethan on a phone call in his study, no greeting from him.

I climbed up the stairs.

Then, I heard it.

Laughter. Soft, feminine laughter.

I froze.

A second later, the sound of the bed creaking follows. My breath catches in my throat.

No!

No, no, no.

My stomach twisted as I forced my feet forward, step by step, my heart hammered so loudly I barely heard my breathing.

The laughter morphed into something else. A moan.

And then, I heard Ethan's voice.

I kept moving. I did not want to see it, but neither did I want to believe it. But I had to know.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar. My fingers trembled as I pressed my palm against the wood, pushing it open just enough to see inside.

And that’s when my world shatters.

A woman was on top of him, straddling him, her bare back to me. Their sheets—our sheets—were tangled around their bodies. While Ethan was beneath her, his face hidden.

I couldn't breathe. My hands gripped the doorframe, nails digging into the wood.

This isn’t real.

Then, she began. "See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now she’ll have no choice but to leave you."

My stomach churned.

Ethan groans. "I should’ve done this years ago."

I gasped, but they didn't hear it. They kept going, oblivious to the fact that I was just a few feet away.

The woman laughed while tracing her fingers down his chest. "Mmm, your mother will be so proud. No more charity cases in the family."

My chest tightened.

Ethan exhales sharply. "She was never a wife. Just some poor girl I let myself get attached to. I should’ve listened to my mom. She said a woman like her could never give me what I need."

I stumbled back.

The woman hums in agreement. "You mean a child?"

My entire body goes cold.

Ethan chuckles. "Exactly. Two years of marriage, and nothing. No heir, no future. Just wasted time."

Wasted time?

I slap a hand over my mouth to keep the sob from escaping. I wanted to scream, but pain stole my voice

"And wasted effort." The woman adds. "Did you ever really love her?"

There’s a pause. A long, agonizing silence.

Then—

"I loved what I thought she could be. But the truth? She disgusts me now."

Tears welled up in my eyes.

I couldn't recognize myself anymore. The woman standing here, trembling, tears running down her face—this isn’t me.

"So, after tonight.” The woman continues, her voice growing distant. "You’ll finally serve her the divorce papers?"

Ethan lets out a slow, satisfied sigh. "First thing tomorrow. She’ll break, and then she’ll leave. Just like I planned."

I can't listen to this anymore. 

My body moves on its own. I turned away and made my way down the hall. 

We have been married for two years. And it has been perfect, or so I thought. There were challenges, arguments, and difficult conversations. But at the end of the day, Ethan always made it worth it. 

When I was struggling to sell my first painting, he told me to keep going. When I doubted myself, he reminded me of my talent. When I felt like giving up, he lifted me.

I thought Ethan was my home, my safe place. But I was wrong.

He never wanted me. 

Never loved me.

I fought for us. Fought for this marriage. But all along, Ethan wanted me gone.

And now?

I’ll give him exactly what he wants.

But not in the way he expects.

Taking a deep breath, I reached into my bag, pulled out my phone, and scrolled through my contacts until I found Barrister Tom’s number. My fingers trembled slightly as I pressed the call button.

He answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

“How long would it take you to prepare divorce papers?” I asked, impatiently.

There was a brief pause before he responded. “Wait… what?”

“I need the papers ready by morning. Can you do it?” I repeated, going straight to the point.

Another silence. Then a sharp exhale. “That’s short notice, but… yeah, I can get it done.”

“Good. Bring them to my house at 10 AM.” Before he could say anything else, I ended the call.