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The Billionaire’s Ex-Dead Wife
The Billionaire’s Ex-Dead Wife
Author: Meechelle

#1 - A New Reality

Author: Meechelle
last update Last Updated: 2025-06-30 19:28:21

“Useless! Useless!” I muttered.

Munching another mouthful of my popcorn.

I feel like killing the female lead. She’s so weak. So dumb. I cursed.

“That’s it. I’m done with this book.”

I snapped it shut with such force that kernels flew out of the bowl. If only I could go into the book and teach you how to act girl.

“How can you let a man—one man—control your entire existence? He’s obsessed with your sister! Leave him, girl!”

I barked at the poor paperback lying on my bed like it owed me rent. My anger bubbled inside like a volcano about to erupt.

Who even wrote this garbage?

I wonder how dumb the author was… or maybe it was the female lead. Arianna Salvatore.

Tsk.

As for me? I’m Ashley, and I won’t let a man walk over me any day, anytime. Come on—who needs love when I can get all the men in the world?

I laughed like the crazy bitch I proudly am.

Oh my God, it’s 5 p.m. I’m late for class!

I jumped up, popcorn flying, as I bolted toward the bathroom. I didn’t have time to glam—just a quick wash.

I stepped into the tub, slippery with last night’s lavender oil—because apparently, Past Ashley wanted a spa night. Bad idea. One foot slipped. Then the other. The world tilted.

Crack.

Pain seared through my skull. The back of my head slammed against the cold tile, and the bowl of popcorn flew out of my hand.

My vision dimmed. My limbs were heavy. I tried to scream, but nothing came.

The water from the faucet was still running — a soft trickle turning into a steady stream, creeping across the floor like a quiet tide. Slowly, it kissed my legs. My arms. Cold. Comforting. Calling.

As it pooled around me, I gasped for breath — but nothing came.

My fingertips trembled. My thoughts slowed. All I could feel was the water wrapping around my body like a silk sheet. My chest tightened.

Darkness.

Then — a flicker.

A vision. Or imagination?

A girl stood in front of me. Wet hair dripping. A white dress clinging to her skin. Eyes hollow, but glowing. Not with fear… but sadness. Pain.

Was she me? No… she was, I don’t know.

She mouthed something.

“I didn’t want to die like this.”

A tear rolled down her cheek — and then one from mine.

“I just wanted… a family.”

I whispered it aloud, the words floating into the water like prayers.

“Even for one day... just to be seen. To be wanted.”

The girl stared at me, a tear trailing down her own cheek. And then…

She smiled.

The water climbed higher. Over my waist. Over my chest.

My lips parted as a single thought bloomed in my brain:

“Let me live… even if it’s not my life.”

And then — stillness.

Silence.

“I am dying.”

* * *

A hot mouth was pressed against mine.

I gasped as air flooded my lungs—but before I could stop myself, I kissed back. Dream or not. One last kiss.

Yup. I was that girl.

I pulled him in, kissed him like my life depended on it—because maybe it did. He tasted like mint and fury.

But then—

He pushed me away. Hard.

"Arianna, I shouldn't have saved you," he spat, disgusted.

Uh. Rude?

I blinked. My vision blurry.

"How dare you try to fool me by jumping into the pool!" He raged.

“Damian,” a sweet, sultry voice purred nearby. I turned to see a woman gliding towards us in a black dress.

“Maybe Arianna doesn’t want to divorce you. She’s wasting time with unnecessary drama.”

Excuse me?

I looked around. Unfamiliar faces. Fancy dresses. Tuxedos. People standing around like a scandal just broke loose on live TV.

I was just in my bathroom. There was blood. Now—no blood. No cracked tile. No cracked skull.

What the hell?

"Take me to the hospital," I muttered weakly, trying to stand. My legs wobbled.

"Arianna Salvatore, I’m done with your games," Damian snapped, standing over me like some CEO on a power trip.

I blinked again.

His jawline could cut diamonds.

His eyes burned like fire.

His lips—yeah, still mad at those.

But I wasn’t mad at him. I was mad at this weird-ass situation.

He kept talking, something about grandmother and cheap tricks, but I wasn’t listening anymore. I was watching the way his Adam’s apple moved when he spoke.

God, he was hot. And annoying.

Who the hell is Arianna Salvatore?

Who were these people?

And where the hell was I?

I turned my head. Luxury pool. Massive white mansion. Glittering lights. A full-blown party. The smell of champagne and rich people filled the air.

And then—

My eyes landed on him.

Amber Eyes.

He stood at the edge of the crowd, sipping wine like a Greek god at a pool party.

Golden skin. Dark curls. Those molten amber eyes.

Time slowed.

My pain? Forgotten.

My confusion? Parked.

My thirst? Activated.

I pushed past the people and dashed toward him like a raccoon chasing shiny things.

“Hey, handsome. I’m Ashley.” I gave my best smile. You know the one.

He smiled back, slow and sexy. “Arianna.”

“No, I’m not—”

Before I could finish, someone grabbed me roughly.

Damian.

Again.

What the hell is wrong with this dude.

"Arianna, what games are you playing now?" Damian thundered.

I hissed. "I told you, I’m not Arianna. Let go of me!"

He didn’t.

So, I slapped him.

Hard.

The crowd gasped.

"You’re handsome, but too bad you’re dumb."

I started to walk away like a true queen, but then—

That same sultry voice shrieked.

“How dare you!”

She rushed to his side. She looked perfect—like a villain in a telenovela.

“Damian,” she purred again, fake concern in her eyes.

He shrugged her off.

That’s when I saw it—the flicker.

Shock. Anger. Confusion.

"You’re my wife." His voice was low. Cold.

No. No, I’m not.

“Did you hit your head or something?”

Hold on. Hold on. Damian. Arianna.

Those were names from the best-seller I was just reading…

No. No. It can’t be.

Have I… transmigrated into the book?

I laughed hard until tears dropped. Watching too many movies must have messed with my mind. I must be dreaming. I fell hard… I may even be in a coma.

It can’t be right. No. Tears threatened to fall and I let them fall freely.

Am I dead?

Panic punched me in the gut. I slapped myself—hard.

SLAP.

Everyone gasped again. I didn’t care.

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

I… I entered the book.

The dumb female lead I was screaming at twenty minutes ago?

I am her.

Strong hands grabbed me again. Damian.

“I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Behind us, I heard her heels click. The sultry one. Vivian, if I remembered right.

She was my sister. No— Ariana’s sister.

Sister. Rival. Snake.

“No!” I screamed, loud and raw. My throat burned. My lungs gave out. I sat on the floor wailing.

Camera flashes went off—paparazzi? Influencers?

Damian clamped a hand over my mouth. He carried me on his shoulders despite my protests and kicking.

“We’re in public. Stop your game please.” He snarled.

I couldn’t breathe.

I’m dead. I can’t be dead.

I have only slept with five guys and I planned fifty... I’m yet to achieve my goal.

My crush from class…

I didn’t get to send him the love letter.

We haven’t even made out!

“Why did I die at 19?!” I wailed in his arms.

Damian picked up his pace. Vivian followed behind.

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Comments (8)
goodnovel comment avatar
S.Oyogho dancing pen
Great start, Author
goodnovel comment avatar
Meechelle
Will do, thanks ...️
goodnovel comment avatar
Meechelle
Very crazy ......
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  • The Billionaire’s Ex-Dead Wife   #61 - No Special Privileges

    The words wouldn’t stop circling in my head.Last time? Digging?They echoed like unfinished sentences, heavy with meaning I couldn’t quite grasp. My chest felt tight, my thoughts scattered, as if someone had knocked the wind out of me and forgotten to let it return.“Arianna.”The sound of my name reached me from far away.“Arianna.”Hands gripped my shoulders. Damian.I startled, sucking in a sharp breath. “Yes—sorry. I’m here.”“I’ve been calling you,” he said, eyes sharp, searching my face. “You spaced out.”“I’m fine,” I said too quickly, forcing a smile that felt painful. Lie. You’re not fine, I screamed internally, but when I opened my mouth. “Just… thinking.”“What was that text about?” he asked.I laughed, light and careless, and slipped my phone into my purse. “Just, Emily. She loves pranks.”His gaze didn’t soften. If anything, it grew more focused. Like he was peeling back layers, deciding which ones were real.He opened his mouth. “You…”But the door opened, just then.Vi

  • The Billionaire’s Ex-Dead Wife   #60 - What Last Time?

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  • The Billionaire’s Ex-Dead Wife   #59 - Too Close for Corporate Comfort

    I charged toward him.Like an Olympic athlete.Like a woman with nothing left to lose. Because I had nothing left to lose in this damn book world.Damian didn’t even blink.Of course he didn’t.He simply leaned back in his leather chair, cool and bored, as if he’d been expecting this exact moment since the dawn of time.I was two seconds away from ramming into him when,BANG.The office door slammed open so hard it ricocheted off the wall.I froze mid-stride. Damian didn’t.He let out the world’s slowest, coldest sigh. “What.”A junior associate stood panting in the doorway, hair slightly all over the place from stress. “S-sir, there’s a problem, the Q3 numbers, the audit—something’s—uh—wrong—”Damian flicked his eyes toward me, then toward the man, then back to me. “It’s being handled already, get out,” he ordered.The guy practically teleported away.The moment the door shut, I inhaled deeply, preparing for round two.Damian raised an eyebrow. “Arianna, were you just attempting to

  • The Billionaire’s Ex-Dead Wife   #58 - The Cost of the Kiss

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  • The Billionaire’s Ex-Dead Wife   #57 - The Price of Betreyal

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  • The Billionaire’s Ex-Dead Wife   #56 - The Reunion

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