Semua Bab The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back : Bab 1 - Bab 10

Ella POV “To be honest, I can’t wait for us to have a baby, you know?” Mark was saying, a gentle smile on his face as he held my hand across the table, the beautiful dinner he’d prepared being savored by both of us. “I want our baby to look like you because you’re the most beautiful person in the world, inside and out.” He kissed the back of my hand and went back to eating. I could only muster a faint smile in response and resumed eating too, because it was absurd to even think about it. Was he seriously talking about us having a baby while his mistress was pregnant? What kind of man was Mark? All of a sudden, I realized bitterly that I didn’t know him at all. Three years of marriage, three years thinking he loved me, only to find out in the most ridiculous way that he was cheating on me? Vanessa Monroe, a gorgeous blonde model famous for gracing the covers of luxury brand magazines. As soon as I saw the evidence of my husband’s affair with her, I couldn’t resist and stalked her

Ella POV At night, Marcus and I were in the living room watching TV. Sitting side by side on the couch, like a normal couple. As if everything was fine. But of course, it wasn’t. Not even close. He slowly reached out, trying to sneak some of my popcorn without me noticing. “Hey,” I murmured, pulling the bowl away. “Ask, at least.” “Oh, but stealing’s more fun,” he said with that usual smile. A smile that, until a few days ago, could still make me laugh. Not today. Today, his smile only carved a deep sadness into my heart. This man I loved so much, who had vowed his love to me, who I thought was my forever… today, he only brought pain and sorrow. I stayed quiet. My eyes drifted back to the TV. The sound of the show filled the room, but I didn’t register a single word. My thoughts screamed over everything. How do you do it? How do you look at me and pretend nothing’s happened? That nothing’s happening? Do you really think I don’t know? “You’re acting a bit off,” he commen

Ella’s Point of View Sleep was a distant dream after that night with our friends, with those thoughts haunting my mind like ghosts that refused to leave. The image of that photo—my husband, Marcus, celebrating with my friends and his mistress—tore through my heart without mercy. How could I live like this? All of a sudden, I realized I was surrounded by traitors, and that feeling was, by far, the worst I’d ever known. I watched Marcus sleeping, wrapped in the blankets, peaceful as always, and all I could do was cry silently, the pain choking me. “Why did you do this, Marcus? Why did you destroy us?” We had seen so much life ahead of us, so many dreams to chase, so many happy moments planned, but now it was all crumbling in this cruel indifference, as if none of it meant anything. I stayed quiet, my tears falling in the dark, my chest tight with grief. I wanted to scream at him, to throw it in his face that I knew everything, that he didn’t need to pretend he loved me or cared abou

Marcus’s Point of View The silence in the house was like a weight crushing my chest. Every corner seemed to scream Ella’s absence, as if the walls themselves were blaming me for the void I had created. Her wedding ring was still in my pocket, cold against my skin, a constant reminder of what I had lost. The divorce papers, with her firm, decisive signature, remained on the desk, untouched since last night. I couldn’t even look at them for more than a second without feeling like the ground would collapse beneath me. How had I let it come to this? How had I been so foolish? I couldn’t accept that it was over. I just couldn’t. Ella was my life, my reason for being. I needed to find her, to explain, to beg, to do anything to bring her back. I grabbed my phone, hands trembling, and started calling everyone who might have a clue about where she was. First, Amanda. The phone rang and rang, then went to voicemail. “Amanda, please, call me back. It’s about Ella. I need to know where she i

Marcus’s Point of View The emptiness in the house seemed to swallow me with each passing day. It was as if Ella had taken all the life from these walls with her. Every morning, I woke with the foolish hope that she’d be there, in our bed, with that gentle smile that made everything in the world feel right. But the bed was cold, the closet empty, and her wedding ring, which I still carried in my pocket like a weight, was the only piece of her left. The divorce papers sat on the desk, her signature staring at me like a death sentence. I couldn’t sign them. I wouldn’t. Ella was my life, and I had to find her, even if she was on the other side of the world. I tried calling her every day, multiple times a day, but the calls went straight to voicemail. “Ella, please, listen to me. I love you. I know I messed up, but give me a chance,” I’d say, leaving messages she probably never listened to. Each silence on the other end was like a stab. I called Amanda, Theo, anyone who might know somet