All Chapters of My Ex Cheated, So I Got Hotter!: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

CHAPTER TWO - DOG DAYS ARE OVERZOEY———With Camille’s help and her high profile lawyer, I filed for divorce on grounds of adultery and emotional abuse. But as expected, Sly Chuck fired back, accusing me of having an affair with some random actor named Jules. A completely fictional person, by the way. His lawyers even presented forged pictures and messages which were clearly AI or Photoshopped. It was pathetic. But I’d expected he would pull such stunt, knowing he wouldn’t back down so easily.I’d almost gone berserk when he added that I deceived and robbed him of fatherhood, secretly taking birth control pills in order to avoid pregnancy. An investigation was carried out, and it was discovered that my supplements were a dub. They were indeed birth control pills, just as Chuck had speculated. Which meant one thing. Chuck fucking Gilbert had been swapping my supplements for birth control pills all these while. And that was why I couldn’t take in during the three years of our mar

CHAPTER FOUR: THE STRIPPER AND HER BOSSZOEY———I had no idea how long I’d been standing there, gaping at him like a fish out of water, mouth slightly open in pure shock—Until Chuck’s voice yanked me back to earth.“What? You just gonna stand there gawking?” Chuck’s dry voice cut in, sharp and irritating as ever.Even through the haze of shock and embarrassment, I couldn’t help noticing how much better this man looked in broad daylight. Which was saying a lot, considering how fine he’d looked last night.I blinked, quickly straightening my posture.“M-my apologies, sir.” I managed, cheeks heating up like a toaster set on high. Dear ground, feel free to open up and swallow me any time now.“I’m Zoey Anderson. Production assistant. It’s nice to have you back.” From what I’d learned, after setting up this production house, he’d relocated to another country, leaving the company under the care of those he trusted.Now, he was back.“She’s my ex-wife,” Chuck added with a smug grin. He gl

CHAPTER SIX: CURSED WITH THE GIFT OF EMBARRASSMENTZOEY———THE NEXT MORNING I was running late for work. I stood on my front porch, phone in hand, eyes glued to the street, waiting for my Uber to show up. I kept tapping my foot impatiently on the concrete as though somehow, it could magically summon my ride. Seriously, at this point, I needed to stop lying to myself and just get a damn car.I let out a long, dramatic sigh and checked the app again for the millionth time. Still ‘arriving in 4 minutes.’Of course. It had been ‘4 minutes’ for the past 8 minutes. Liars.That was when I noticed him. Mr. Annoyingly Hot. Christian freaking Gallo. Looking hotter than ever in an expensive navy-blue suit. He strutted out of his house toward his driveway like a man in a luxury car commercial. Standing in front of a sleek black Grand Wagoneer Series III, was another good-looking man in a black suit—probably his assistant.Then my eyes caught two little girls, practically bouncing with energ

CHAPTER EIGHT: HER PERSONAL VENDETTAZOEY———“I’m sorry,” I said, swallowing a dry lump down my throat as I met Chuck’s furious stare. “But I’m not apologizing for something I didn’t do. Miss Ferguson spilled that coffee on herself.”The room gasped, wide-eyed in disbelief. You’d think I just committed an abominable crime or something.I glanced toward the hallway. Mr. Gallo was still there, arms crossed, eyes locked on me like a silent judge. He probably thought I was a walking red flag at this point. First, the awkward window moment. Now this—me disrespecting a superior, refusing to play nice, and looking like the unstable girl who launched an Americano out of spite.He was probably already mentally drafting the most professional “you’re fired” email ever written.I nearly laughed. Bitterly, of course.Chuck snapped, grabbing my arm.“You fucking bitch. You MUST apologize or I swear, you’re done!”His fingers dug angrily into my skin.I flinched at the pain on the inside, but outw

CHAPTER NINE: A SKETCHY FRIEND ZOEY ——— The warm scent of baked pastries hit me the moment I stepped into my apartment, and I didn’t need a psychic to know Camille was in my kitchen. Dropping my bag on the couch, I followed the aroma into the kitchen. Camille was in full chef mode—pastries lined up on a tray, two bottles of wine waiting to be uncorked, and a beautifully decorated cake sitting gracefully. My jaw went slack as I took it all in. Camille finally noticed me and beamed. “Hey, babes. Back from work?” I nodded wordlessly, still staring at the dessert heaven in front of me. I slid onto a stool, finally finding my voice. “What’s going on here? Did we win the lottery or something?” She chuckled, placing a hand dramatically on her hip. “No, silly. We’re celebrating your housewarming party!” Before I could argue, she popped a cookie into my mouth. I swear, the taste was heavenly. Of course, it was. Camille could probably bake in her sleep, while I… well, let’