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Family
วันที่เผยแพร่:
2026-03-27 23:20:14
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Too Late To Want Me Back, Ex-Husband! Get out!
ELARA“How can you be smiling when your reputation is in tatters, in shreds, sugar?”My head, which had been bent over my laptop as I focused on the glowing screen, snapped toward my doorpost. Killian stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe, looking deceptively relaxed. He was dressed in a black long-sleeve shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, paired with black suit pants and polished Italian shoes. His sleeves were folded back toward his elbows, exposing forearms that spoke of a strength he rarely had to exert. His hands were tucked into his pockets, and while his face remained easy and unsmiling, there was a sharp, calculating intensity in his gaze that made my skin prickle.“What’s more, you’re still in your nightwear…” He raised a brow, his eyes shamelessly appraising my choice of attire—a flimsy, silk gown that barely reached mid-thigh.I felt a hot blush creep up my neck, realizing with a jolt of annoyance that I was wearing nothing underneath the thin fabric.
Too Late To Want Me Back, Ex-Husband! Greedy Hacker
SHAWNI watched Miranda struggle to rise from the bed, her small hand clutching at her chest as if trying to hold her heart inside her ribs, and I felt nothing. Absolute nothing. Well, except for a simmering, insane anger that threatened to boil over again. She had messed up my life, walking into my world only to turn it into a graveyard. How could she have been so reckless as to release those photos without my consent? Wasn’t she supposed to be intelligent enough to grasp the catastrophic consequences? To understand that Elara wasn’t some peasant housewife anymore?Did she honestly think the Vikings would take this lying down? Did she mistake their silence for unraveling, or think that Elara’s "Queen of Tech" moniker was just empty branding? I watched her with a mounting sense of disgust, wondering if this woman had ever stopped to research the sheer scale of the Queen of Tech’s accomplishments before engaging in this suicidal nonsense.“Sha…”“Miranda, if you call me ‘Shawny’ ag
Too Late To Want Me Back, Ex-Husband! Horrific Reality
MIRANDA“Yes! Tear her apart!” I sneered, as I laughed at the carnage on my phone screen. I was practically vibrating with a dark glee, scrolling through the snarky comments made by aggrieved netizens and the sudden, explosive outrage of the public. With my left hand, I gripped the phone like a weapon; with my right, I threw cheese balls intermittently into my mouth from the large container nestled between my thighs. I sat cross-legged on my bed, clad only in my underwear, feeling the cool air of the room against my skin, though my blood was boiling with excitement.My eyes would probably have heavy, dark eyebags underneath them considering I couldn’t sleep a wink last night, but I didn't care.I was just too amped up, flying from one social media handle to another, making sure that my posts had gone viral—that every singular being in the country, and even outside its confines, would see those well-curated, devastating photos. I laughed some more and shook my head as I watched crud
Too Late To Want Me Back, Ex-Husband! A Dream
SHAWNThe canopy of the forest was a jagged, suffocating ceiling of interlocking branches that bled into a sky the color of a fresh bruise. I was running, my lungs burning with the sensation of inhaled glass, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird desperate for escape. I didn’t know who was behind me, but I could hear them… the rhythmic thud of heavy boots on damp earth, the snapping of twigs, and a low, dissonant humming that made the hair on my arms stand up. Every shadow seemed to stretch toward me, clawed fingers reaching out from the bark of gnarled trees to snag my clothes.Terrible fear saturated my senses. It was the frightened desperation that kept my legs moving even as they turned to lead. My thoughts were a jumbled mess of static and guilt; I knew I had messed up. I had crossed a line I couldn't uncross, and now they were coming for me.The forest felt like a maze, shifting and twisting until I was running in circles, the air growing colder, the humming
Too Late To Want Me Back, Ex-Husband! Angry Bitch
MIRANDAI was soaking in the tub, doing my nightly ritual, trying to calm my nerves so I could sleep, when my phone rang. At first, I thought to ignore it, but the possibility that it could be Shawn—that he had had a change of mind—had me reaching my lavender-scented, bubbled hand to the stool just by the head of the tub and collecting my phone. A knowing smile touched my lips as I saw his name blinking on the dial. I answered after waiting for a few beats, my fingers tracing the sleek edge of the device; it was best not to have him thinking I had been waiting for his call.“Hello…” I kept my voice stark, like a petulant girlfriend, but the voice that answered me wasn’t my Shawn’s, and it had me sitting upright in the tub, the warm water sloshing against the porcelain.“Who is this? And what have you done with my fiancé?!” My heart picked up a faster rhythm as my mind went haywire. Why was a stranger answering Shawn’s call? Had he gone and involved himself in an accident? My heart
Too Late To Want Me Back, Ex-Husband! Drunken Shawn
SHAWN“Hey! Let me have two more!” I screamed at the bartender, holding up my empty glass before slamming it down to join the others—seven, maybe nine cups already cluttering the wood in front of me. My vision was beginning to smear into a blur of neon and shadow, my voice thick and slurry, aggressive even to my own ears. Yet, my mind remained cruelly, agonizingly sharp. And it was that mind I wanted to dull… to silence the voice that screamed profanities, branding me a failure and a loser. I watched one of the bartenders approach, his brow furrowed in a look of pity that made my stomach churn.“Sir, you are already drunk… I think you should get home…” he said, reaching for the empty glasses.As he made to leave with them, I lunged forward and grabbed his sleeved arm, my fingers digging into the fabric. “What did you say?” I screamed in his face, the smell of cheap whiskey heavy on my breath. “What did you just say? Do you know who I am? Do you?” I punched the aisle, the wood rat
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