All Chapters of Divorced By My Ex, Married To A Billionaire.: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Alexis.I stared at my reflection in the mirror in disbelief.F!cking hell, it still fits…Barely.The red dress clung to me tight in all the right places, hugging my b00bs like it had something to prove and riding up my thighs. The fabric was almost see-through with just one tilt of the light, and boom. My secrets were on full display.Not for long, though. Unless a certain someone earned it.I ran my fingers down the front, exhaling slowly. Okay, maybe I looked too fine. Like, send ‘a man into cardiac arrest’ good. And that was exactly the plan.My phone lit up with a FaceTime call from Sierra. I answered, and the second her face appeared, my jaw dropped.“Damn, babe,” I said, grinning wide. “You look like temptation in heels.”She twirled nervously, tugging at the hem of the same red dress I had on, except on her it was giving full-on goddess energy. Her hair was down, soft waves brushing her shoulders, and she’d actually ditched the all-black gothic vibe she usually wore. The girl

Alexis .I shift on his lap, turning to face him properly, my knees on either side of his thighs. On one hand, I’m holding the tub of mango ice cream I made yesterday, and now we’re eye to eye. His teal eyes practically glow in the soft dining room light, heat simmering behind them like he’s already devouring me in his head.As I settle onto him, he moves his hips slightly, pushing up against me.I let out a surprised giggle. “Stop doing that. It feels… funny.”He raises a brow. “I’m stretching. Nothing funny about that.”Liar.I shift again, and the towel I’d wrapped around myself slips. Just a little at first then more. My chest is suddenly exposed, cool air grazing my skin just as I reach for it, he grabs the towel and tosses it to the floor like it was a c0ck blocker.“Pierce!”He locks eyes with me. “Leave it. That’s an order.” The way he says it like there’s no room for negotiation sends a thrill right down my spine. My cheeks burn, but I nod slowly and dip the spoon into the i

Pierce. I walked into my office with Zane beside me, already bracing for the storm in designer clothes and seven inch heels.My mother was waiting.She stood near my desk like a vulture guarding a fresh k!ll, arms crossed, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against her designer sleeve. Her expression wasn’t just angry, it was deadly. Disdain rolled off her in waves. Whatever she was going to say, I already knew it was going to ruin my day. The moment she saw me, she didn’t waste time.“Pierce, I just found out your wife is a s.lut.”She announced. I'm sure even the birds outside heard her. Zane and I exchanged a look. His brow arched, a slow smirk creeping up like this was entertainment. I exhaled moved behind my desk and sat down. I didn’t speak. I knew better than to play her game on impulse. She thrived on reaction.She stepped forward and slammed a flash drive onto my desk.“Watch it,” she spat. “See for yourself.”I leaned back in my chair, gaze flicking from the drive to h

Alexis. As I knead the dough for the meat pies, my mind drifts back to a place I swore I'd never return to. Oklahoma. That bloody stinky house where it happened. And where justice failed us. I press my fingers into the dough, harder than necessary. Those maggots walked free. It didn't matter that we reported it or that we had proof. The system found a way to let them go. "Insufficient evidence," they said. "No physical resistance," they added "Not enough to prove lack of consent." They concluded. Our dads did find those bastards and gave them a beating they'll never forget. That was the first time I ever saw my dad swing a baseball bat at someone like he was aiming for a home run. And Sierra's dad? The calm, church-loving man turned into a full-blown beast that day. It was almost scary how fast he flipped. Guess strong baseball lovers don't just limit their swings to the field. The brothers were lucky the police showed up when they did. If they had been even a few minutes la

Pierce .People say revenge is best served cold.I prefer it underground, with blood on the floor and screams echoing off the walls.Don Nero had just landed in town, so I gave him a call.“Wanna take a little trip to Oklahoma?”I asked.He hissed through the phone like I’d insulted his designer boots. “Why would I want to rot in some crusty brown bread town?”He spat. I smiled. “There’ll be torture."I added. He didn’t even pack a bag.Now here we are beneath an abandoned warehouse I bought off some desperate meth-head last year, and Nero’s in his element. The guy gets off on pain. Not in a metaphorical tortured-poet way. No, he collects human agony like trophies. If pain had a fan club, Nero would be president, CEO, and the lunatic mascot.He’s circling Barry and Drew, the two cowardly little shits who thought ra.ping my wife and Sierra made them powerful. Now they’re gagged, shaking, and duct-taped to metal chairs, what a bunch of lousy cockroaches.Zane and I are standing off to th