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17: The Empire!
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2025-07-25 08:40:43
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Revenge On My Ex-husband With His Ruthless Mafia Brother 27: He Devoured!
Delilah's POVI shouldn’t have stayed. I should’ve climbed out the window or called the damn police. But how do you call the cops on your husband?Fuck. It's not going to make any damn sense.”Help my husband is chasing me with a gun, a day after our wedding.”My fingers trembled as I crouched lower behind the shelf in the study. I reached for my phone, only to see it smashed into jagged, useless pieces on the floor.“God,” I whispered. “Please. I’ll never drink wine again. Or binge chips. Just get me through this night without dying.”I wrapped my arms around my legs, curling tighter, feeling that cold hollow in my stomach, the one that only shows up when fear comes in wearing a familiar face. It reminded me of the time, back in college, Thorne chased me to the basement with a damn knife. What if he plays smart?What if he does something funny?What if the gun wasn’t a bluff? But knowing him, it's unlikely. He always carried out his threats back then. My mind went somewhere it shou
Revenge On My Ex-husband With His Ruthless Mafia Brother 26: Let's Play A Game.
Delilah’s POV: I slammed the grocery bags on the counter angrily, once I stepped into my villa. Naomi had something urgent to deal with so she left promising she'll be back. Thank goodness she's gone, I wouldn't want her to see me spiral. I was so pissed. Fucking Caleb. Fucking Cheryse. Fucking Maxwell, with his curly mop of hair and his innocent eyes. The kind of child I'd dream of having. The child I … carried and.. then lost it because of Caleb. I was spiraling, and I knew it, whiich meant one thing. Cook. When I’m pissed, I cook like I’m trying to battle my demons with diced onions and boiling oil. So I rushed to the kitchen and started cooking crazily. Shrimp pasta. Creamy chicken stew. Garlic butter naan from scratch. I roasted asparagus like it killed my dreams. I even baked lemon squares, dusting the tops with powdered sugar like snowfall over grief. By the time I was done, the kitchen looked like a food war zone. And I ate... nothing. I never eat what I stressed- co
Revenge On My Ex-husband With His Ruthless Mafia Brother 25: Like A Beautiful Happy Family.
Delilah's POV: I needed air. I needed air from him because every time I'm around him, he finds sick ways to piss me off I needed air from Thorne and his secrets and his scarred neck and his maddening eyes that said things his mouth wouldn’t. So I called Naomi, and like the beautiful, dramatic queen she was, she showed up. I think she's done touring the entire building. So it's time for me to leave. “I’m not asking,” she said, sliding into the backseat beside me. “We’re going shopping. And you’re buying me things to make up for vanishing into your emo villain marriage.” I snorted. “You don’t need me to buy you things.” “No, but it feels better when I don’t spend my money.” The convoy of matte black SUVs behind us made her blink. “Um. What the hell?” “Bodyguards,” I muttered, sighing out. Of course I'll need protection from everyone since I'm basically the most talked about. And.. also protection from people that are trying to hurt me. My mind veered to Thorne's words.
Revenge On My Ex-husband With His Ruthless Mafia Brother 24: Don't Go Digging.
Delilah POV I stomped through the entire building like a woman out fot blood. I couldn't get the image of the bloody hickeys all over my freaking neck! My skin still burned, my neck littered with angry red hickeys that peeked past the stiff collar of my blouse. Perfect. A goddamn board meeting and I looked like I just got mauled by a vampire in heat. Where the hell was Thorne? He better not disappear this fucking time. I threw open doors, ignored startled employees, and kept moving until the faint sound of cutlery clinking reached my ears. The executive lounge. Of course. I burst in and there he was—sprawled out like some smug prince of chaos, devouring eggs like the world hadn’t tilted an hour ago when he put his damn mouth on me. My glare could’ve set the room on fire. He didn’t even flinch as he just kept chewing, barely acknowledging my fiery presence. I marched up to him, fists clenched. “You arrogant, territorial bastard,” I seethed, my voice low but vibrat
Revenge On My Ex-husband With His Ruthless Mafia Brother 23: Dirty Secrets
Cheryse's POV My hands trembled as I stirred the tomato sauce, the wooden spoon clattering slightly against the pot. I bit my lip, trying to force a smile into place—I always looked better when I smiled—and reached for the chopping board to slice the parsley.But my mind wouldn’t shut up.He looked different.So fúcking detached, as if he was second-guessing everything, which shouldn't be happening. He’d kissed me. Carried me. Held me like I mattered. That had to mean something, right?Right?Then why did it feel like he wasn’t really there?Three years. Three damn years of my life I had given him—wasted on secret phone calls, hiding from paparazzi, being the woman in the dark. And then finally… I won. Delilah left, the divorce came, and Caleb came back to me. Three years ago, months after his marriage,he chased me down. He said he should’ve never let me go back in college and that he married Delilah because of his father. That it was all arranged. That he didn't want her– but me.
Revenge On My Ex-husband With His Ruthless Mafia Brother 22: Both Of Them.
Caleb POV:I didn't love her. I didn't fucking love her. Me? Love Delilah? No way! Our marriage was simply one of convenience. My dad had assured me that I could divorce her once she gives birth. But she only got pregnant three years later. I spun around, jaw clenched. “You don’t get to talk about love. You don’t even know what the word means.”“You remember what you said, right?” she whispered, tracing circles on my chest. “When we first started sneaking around… You promised you'd marry me if you ever left her.”I exhaled hard, tension riding my spine like chains.She looked up at me with puppy eyes and fake vulnerability. “You said you were going to give me everything she took for granted.”I nodded slightly, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Yeah,” I muttered, “I remember.”And I did.I remembered the exact moment. I was drunk on resentment, high on revenge sex, whispering false promises in the backseat of my Bentley while Delilah slept alone in our cold mansion. I was so angry t
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