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#18 - Portraits, Poison and Public Display of Affection
Last Updated:
2025-07-27 23:55:19
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The Billionaire’s Ex-Dead Wife #19 - New Job, Same Chaos
The smoke thickened. Heat crawled up my spine like an animal with claws.Why can’t I fucking moveMy chest tightened as if invisible fingers were crushing my lungs. “Move!” I growled at myself, my hands shaking violently.Vivian’s voice sliced through the haze. “You’re pathetic,” she said, pushing at the door that refused to budge. Her nails clawed at the handle. “If we die, I’m blaming you. Come here and help me.”Her fake composure cracked for the first time. She was scared. And seeing her panic almost woke something feral in me.I staggered forward, grabbing the walls for support “I’m not dying here. I don’t know about you.”A loud boom sounded outside the hall, and flames licked at the bottom of the door. The heat seared. I coughed, my throat raw, my eyes stinging as smoke clouded everything.Then—“Arianna! Vivian!”Damian’s voice.“Damian!” Vivian screamed, her voice shrill with terror. “Help me! I’m trapped! I don’t want to die please.”“Damian, I’m here!” I yelled, coughing ha
The Billionaire’s Ex-Dead Wife #18 - Portraits, Poison and Public Display of Affection
“Surprised?” I said with a soft smile, letting the pen drop with a deliberate clink.Of course, Arianna only knew how to be a housewife and a puppy to Damian, always tail-wagging, dinner-cooking, emotionally starving. But me? I was the best in my art major. And unlike my sweet predecessor, I knew how to draw blood without ever raising my voice.Vivian opened her mouth, then closed it again. Cat caught her tongue. Then she finally sputtered, “You… you couldn’t have possibly drawn that. It’s… impossible.”Oh, sweet denial.“Impossible?” I tilted my head, feigning innocence while amusement curled in my chest like mischief. “What are you saying, sister? Don’t you like the gift? I thought, since everyone else is drowning you with expensive jewelry and designer bags which you already have closets full of, God knows you already own everything. I thought I’d give you something unique. Something close to my heart.”Her lips twisted. “This is fake!” she suddenly yelled, her voice sharp enough t
The Billionaire’s Ex-Dead Wife Smile for the Portrait sister
“You’re not supposed to be here.”The voice slithered into the room like an accusation dipped in disbelief. I froze mid-bend, the whip still dangling from my hand like a crime scene prop. Damian stood in the doorway, face unreadable but that sharp judgmental eyebrow of his doing enough talking for both of us.Oh, he was alone.“I… this isn’t what it looks like,” I said, hastily shoving the whip behind me like I was hiding a cucumber in church.Damian stepped in.The room shrunk.The muffled moans of the gagged waiter tied to a chair in front of me didn’t exactly help my case. Nor did the vibrator lying innocently on the table beside a bowl of whipped cream and regret.“Is that a ball gag in his mouth?” Damian asked dryly.“...No.”“It is.”“Okay, fine,” I snapped. “Yes. But listen, I wasn’t enjoying it. This is an interrogation, not a kink dungeon.”The waiter moaned again, as if to say ma’am please define the difference.Damian’s eye twitched. “Is this how you choose to uphold the S
The Billionaire’s Ex-Dead Wife #16 - The Sinclair Circus: Featuring Vibrators and Betrayal
We found the waiter.That was the text. Short. Sweet. Suspiciously convenient.I was already halfway to the door, purse in hand, hoodie halfway on, ready to interrogate this man like an unhinged FBI dropout when—“Where are you going?” Damian’s voice slid in like a cold slap.I paused mid-step, my fake Gucci boot hovering in dramatic defiance. “Out.”He narrowed his eyes. “Out where?”“None of your business.” I smiled like a cat with blood on its whiskers. “Last I checked, we were about three gasps away from divorce.”His jaw ticked. “Was that a message you got just now?”I arched a brow. “And if it was?”He folded his arms. “Are you seeing someone?”I snorted. Loud. “What is it to you? Feeling territorial, husband?”He didn’t answer. Just stared like I was a locked vault he’d forgotten the code to. “It’s late. I won’t let you drag the family name through the mud—especially not with Grandma in the house.”“You’re the one who offered me fifty million to stay. Not to stay put.”“I didn’
The Billionaire’s Ex-Dead Wife #15 - Glass of Wine, Side of Vengeance
As I sat across from Caden, clinking glasses in a restaurant that smelled faintly of rosemary and rich people problems, I had to admit it he was annoyingly easy to admire.That relaxed jawline. That watch that could probably pay off a mortgage. That voice, smooth like coffee laced with secrets.And unlike Damian, he actually asked me how I was doing without glaring first.“I have to say,” I said, tracing the rim of my glass with my finger, “you’re quite the charmer.”Caden gave a small smile. “You say that like you were expecting me not to.”“I wasn’t sure. You give off ‘tech billionaire who forgets to comb his hair’ vibes.”He laughed. “And you give off ‘I stabbed my ex and would do it again’ energy.”I grinned. “I get that a lot.”He chuckled, his amber eyes locked on me like I was both an inside joke and a puzzle he wanted to solve. “Remind me again why you asked me here?”I took a slow sip. “Maybe I was hoping you’d help me escape my emotionally constipated husband. Or maybe I jus
The Billionaire’s Ex-Dead Wife #14 - Whatever, Let’s Just Survive
It was me.I drugged myself.What a joke.“You’re smarter than I thought,” I muttered, staring down at the grainy footage like it owed me rent.The nerve of this bitch.The woman in the footage…me, smiled directly at the camera. Her walk, her hair, her height. Perfect mimicry. But the second she turned slightly I saw it.A fucking mask of my face. Not a metaphor. Not a disguise. A literal rubber Arianna face like I was watching Scooby-Doo. I didn’t expect that.I snapped the phone shut like it burned.“Fuck you, author,” I hissed. “What kind of deranged Wattpad-Netflix crossover is this? How can the villain be as smart as the main character? Make it make sense!”I paced in tight circles around Arianna’s ridiculously glossy bedroom, still fuming.“She wore a mask,” I said again, louder this time. “This bitch wore a mask. Who does that? Scooby-Doo villains? Halloween drag queens? A psychopath villain?I stared back at the paused video.“No. No way she smiled into the camera. She plan
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