MARRYING MY EX-HUSBAND ENEMY

Sienna’s POV

The first thing I heard was the beeping.

Slow, steady, and unnatural.

Then came the smell of antiseptic, cold metal, and something faintly floral beneath it. My eyelids felt heavy, glued together, but I forced them open. The ceiling above me was white and sterile.

My throat burned when I tried to swallow. My head pulsed, like someone was driving nails through the inside of my skull. I didn’t know where I was, or why my body felt like it had been broken and stitched back together.

A woman in blue scrubs appeared at the foot of my bed, her face kind but weary. “Miss,” she said softly, “you made it.”

Made it? The words sounded strange, as though they belonged to someone else.

She noticed the confusion etched on my face. “You were in an accident,” she continued. “You’ve been unconscious for two days.”

My brain stumbled, trying to gather the scattered pieces: hotel lights, rain, a sharp turn, and a scream that might’ve been mine. And then nothing.

“You made it,” she repeated. “And your babies did too.”

My heart stopped.

“Babies?” My voice came out as a rasp, thin and broken. “I… what?” I was too weak to say much.

Her smile shifted, tinged with warmth. “You’re one month pregnant with triplets, miss. Congratulations.”

Triplets.

The word echoed in my head, hollow and impossible. I stared at her, searching her face for a hint that this was some kind of cruel joke. But she only squeezed my hand gently before checking the monitors.

“You should rest,” she said softly. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

When she left, I lay there staring at the ceiling, letting the word “pregnant” turn over and over in my mind. My fingers trembled as they brushed against the flatness of my stomach. Inside me were three lives I didn’t even know existed.

I closed my eyes, and that’s when I heard voices from the small television mounted on the wall.

“…breaking news: business tycoon billionaire Gabriel Vale finalizes divorce with wife, Sienna Davidson Vale…”

My eyes flew open.

The headline rolled across the bottom of the screen:

Business Tycoon Gabriel Vale Files for Divorce—Engaged to Sylvia Dawn.

For a second, I couldn’t move. My pulse roared in my ears as I stared at the screen.

The video clip showed Gabriel standing in front of flashing cameras, his hand resting possessively at the small of Sylvia’s back. His smile was sharp and confident, the same smile that used to make my heart skip. Sylvia, perfect in her glittering dress, leaned into him, her eyes gleaming.

I had been unconscious for only two days, and in that time, my husband—no, my ex-husband—had engaged another.

My throat tightened, and my vision blurred. I had loved him. Defended him. Given him everything. And he had discarded me like a broken ornament.

Anger rose slow and clean through the fog of shock. My hands trembled as I tried to sit up, but pain shot through my ribs, forcing a gasp from my lips.

I wanted to scream, to throw something, but all I could do was stare at that screen until the image burned into me.

The door opened.

Rain-scented air swept through the room, followed by the faint hum of expensive cologne; it was woodsy, dark, and unsettlingly familiar.

A man stepped inside.

Everything about him screamed control—his movements precise, his presence suffocating. His damp hair brushed across his forehead, a few drops sliding down the sharp edge of his jaw. His suit, tailored to perfection, clung to him like it was sewn from shadows.

He stopped at the edge of my bed. His gaze swept over me once, unreadable but intense, as if weighing my existence.

“Hello, ma’am,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “I’m Desmond Blackwell.”

The name hit me like ice water.

Gabriel’s business rival. The billionaire warned not to cross. Cold and ruthless, they say. The kind of man who destroyed fortunes with a smile.

He looked down at me, his face carved from stone. “I ran you over with my car,” he said. “I wanted to apologize for any inconvenience I’ve caused.”

I blinked, my confusion dissolving into disbelief. “Inconvenience?” My voice cracked. “You almost killed me!”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. “You’re alive,” he said simply. “That’s what matters.”

The calmness in his tone made me want to slap him. “Do you have any idea—”

“Yes.” His eyes darkened. “I do. I was there when they pulled you from the street. I carried you in. You were bleeding. You stopped breathing for ten seconds.”

I froze.

The image of rain, the blinding headlights, and the voice shouting my name. It all flickered back.

Something in his gaze softened, almost imperceptibly. “I’ve been checking on you since then. The doctors said you’d wake soon.”

His gaze flicked toward the television, where the smiling image of Gabriel and Sylvia still played. His jaw tightened. “I saw the news.”

A bitter laugh escaped me. “Everyone did.”

“I’m sorry about your husband,” he said quietly.

I met his eyes. “You don’t even know me.”

He tilted his head slightly. “I know men like him. And I know that look on your face.”

I swallowed hard. “What look?”

“The one that comes after betrayal,” he said. “When the world takes everything from you, and you realize the only thing left is what you’re willing to become.”

His words cut deep, too deep for a stranger. I hated that part of me understood.

Desmond took a slow step closer. His presence filled the room like static, controlled yet alive.

“I can help you,” he said, his tone almost a whisper now. “If you want to make him regret everything he’s done.”

My pulse kicked. “Why would you help me?”

“Because,” he said, his eyes locked on mine, “your husband has been a thorn in my side for years. And now, fate has handed me his greatest weakness.”

I stared at him. “You mean me.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Exactly.”

The air between us grew thick, charged with something I didn’t want to name.

He leaned in slightly, enough for me to catch the faint scent of rain and danger on his skin. “You want revenge, Mrs. Vale?”

My voice was barely audible. “I don’t know what I want.”

“Yes, you do.” His tone was cool and absolute. “You want to make him feel what you’re feeling right now.”

I looked away, my throat tightening. “Even if I did, I’ve got nothing left, no money, no home, not even a name to call my own.”

The lie had to stay. I couldn’t trust him enough to know the truth, that I was an heiress.

“Then let me give you one.”

The words slid through the air, smooth and impossible.

I turned toward him slowly, confusion clouding my thoughts. “What are you saying?”

Desmond’s lips curved into the faintest smile, but his eyes stayed cold. “Marry me.”