All Chapters of Dear Ex-husband, I'm back for revenge : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

122 Chapters

CHAPTER ONE – The Ghost Bride Returns

( Third person pov) The Blackthorne gala didn’t feel like a party. It felt like a crown waiting to drop. The air was heavy with money and ambition. Men stood in quiet knots, trading looks like stock tips. Women glittered like diamonds under glass, every smile sharp, every move measured. Tonight wasn’t about love. It was about power. The ballroom sat at the top of Blackthorne Tower, seventy-five stories above Chicago. Floor-to-ceiling windows turned the city into a map of lights, but no one cared. All eyes were on Damien Blackthorne, the man who could change lives with a single name. Tonight, he would choose a bride. And everyone in the room wanted to watch history bend. The band played low, soft enough to let whispers run free. Rumors jumped from lip to lip. “I hear it’s Elise. The senator’s daughter.” “No. Too soft. He’ll pick Vivian. She’s brutal enough to hold her ground.” “They say he already knows. This whole show is just for us.” Damien stood near the center of it al

CHAPTER TWO- Signed Into War

(third person pov) Damien Blackthorne stood frozen. For a long second his body betrayed him: throat tight, hands numb. He stayed planted on that stage, cameras flashing like tiny suns, guests whispering into the hush, and in the middle of it all was the woman who had once been the center of his world. Evelyn. Five years. Five years since she vanished without a single explanation. Now she stood before him, alive, breathing, holding a marriage contract with the same sharp smile he had once mistaken for love. “Darling,” she said, gliding her voice across the stunned crowd, “I heard you are a man of time. Would you really make a beautiful woman like me wait and risk your perfect reputation?” Her red gown fell around her in a blaze. Every step she took felt to Damien like a blade being turned into his chest. “So,” she tilted her head, the motion casual and lethal, “what do you say, Damien Blackthorne? Do you dare sign the document?” He said nothing. Not immediately. Colt, his

Chapter Three:- The devil you made

Blackthorne Mansion (third person pov) The sleek black car slid to a stop at the towering gates of Blackthorne Mansion. When the door opened, Evelyn stepped out like she owned the world. A short black dress clung to her curves, her cleavage unapologetically on display. One hand scrolled lazily through her phone while the other brushed a strand of hair away from her face. Her lips—painted the shade of fresh blood—curved into a slow smile as the headline flashed across her screen: “Evelyn Lockwood crashes Damien Blackthorne’s party with a marriage contract.” “Beautiful chaos,” she murmured, pleased with herself. Two guards moved forward at once, lifting her designer luggage with practiced obedience. Evelyn barely spared them a glance. She strolled past the grand golden doors she once called home. The walls gleamed with the same gaudy trims, the antique chandelier dripped with light exactly as before, and the familiar scent of roses greeted her from the entrance. “Tsk. Same o

Chapter four:- Worst nightmare

(third person pov) Somewhere in the City – A Small Bar The dim yellow lights flickered against the cracked walls of a dingy bar. At the far corner, a man lounged with careless arrogance, his chair tipped back, a glass of whiskey sweating on the table. His phone screen glowed in the low light, and a slow, wicked chuckle rolled from his throat. Heads turned. He didn’t care. He looked like a man who had just found something dangerous—something worth burning the world for. “Damien’s worst nightmare is back,” Allen murmured, the corners of his lips curling as if savoring the words. Across from him, his assistant Reo slipped into the seat, eyes wary. Allen’s chuckle swelled into laughter, dark and unrestrained. "Reo," Allen said, not looking up as his assistant materialized from the shadows. "Look at her. Five years in the wild, and she returns not as a beggar, but as a queen ready to reclaim her throne. A throne she thinks my brother stole. It’s like heaven itself is playing on m

Chapter 5: A Pinch of Salt, A Pound of Flesh

(third person pov) Evelyn woke up in her own room, because of course she didn’t sleep in Damien’s. Sharing a bed with that man? She’d rather hug a cactus. She stretched lazily, slipped into her robe, and headed downstairs. By the time she reached the kitchen, the air was already alive with the sounds of clinking pans and murmuring maids. Mrs. Davies, the head maid, was giving her usual morning sermon to a nervous junior. “Remember, no salt. Mr. Damien prefers to season his food himself. The eggs soft, the toast lightly done, the coffee black—” Evelyn leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, eyes glinting. Breakfast without salt? How boring. Evelyn walked in the kitchen, arms folded, an amused smile tugging at her lips. “My, my. You all know his taste buds better than his wife does.” The maids froze. Mrs. Davies turned slowly, eyes widening when she saw Evelyn. “I’ll be handling breakfast today,” Evelyn announced, stepping forward like a queen claiming her throne. The

Chapter Six:- A poisoned love letter

Evelyn povI dressed up for work and took one of Damien’s cars, the one with mirror tint. I was meeting Sophia at a café near the estate.She was already waiting when I walked in. We hugged tight.“Look at you,” she teased. “Rolling up in Damien’s car like a mafia wife. Should I start calling you Mrs. Power-Trip now?”“Shut up,” I said, laughing as I slid into the seat across from her. “It was just parked there. Convenient.”She raised a brow. “Convenient, my ass. You love the drama. Admit it.”I stirred my coffee with unnecessary focus. “Drama follows me. I don’t chase it.”“Uh-huh.” Sophia leaned closer, eyes sparkling with mischief. “So? How was day one and two with the infamous Mr. Damien? Give me the tea, Evie. No holding back.”“Don’t get me started.” I sank into the chair.Her eyes lit up. “Oh, I’m already started. Spill.”I leaned in, lowering my voice. “You won’t believe what happened this morning.”She grinned. “Try me.”“I made him breakfast.”Her jaw dropped. “You cooked?

Chapter Seven: Living With the Devil

(Damien’s POV)The pen rolled between my fingers as I stared at the contract in front of me, my mind half here, half lost in the woman who had been haunting my thoughts since sunrise. Evelyn. My wife. My problem. My addiction.A knock came at the door. “Come in,” I said without looking up.Colt walked in, holding his tablet like it carried bad news. “Boss, Charles will be flying in today. He should be landing any moment now.”I nodded, flipping the pen again. “Okay.”Colt hesitated. “Uh, boss… Blake just returned. He… lost track of Evelyn.”My lips curved, not into a smile but into something darker. “If he didn’t lose track of her, then she wouldn’t be the woman I married.”Colt blinked. “Wait, boss. You’re saying she noticed Blake was tailing her… and made him lose her deliberately?”“I married a strategist who sees the board three moves ahead. Expecting anything less is an insult to us both.” I tossed the pen onto the contract. “It appears I’m not just housing a ghost, Colt. I’m liv

Chapter Eight: A Wife’s Mask

(Evelyn’s POV)I woke up beside Damien.For a moment, just a moment, I let myself stare. The way his jaw was carved like stone, his lashes brushing his cheek, the proud arch of his nose. He looked like something sculpted by gods, not born of flesh. My chest tightened. For a single, unforgivable second, my breath caught. He was still devastatingly beautiful. A masterpiece of a man.Then I snapped out of it.Evelyn, what the hell are you doing? Admiring the enemy? This is exactly how women lose wars—falling in love with their captors.I slipped out of bed quietly, but his voice pinned me to the spot.“Are you done with your inspection? I’m flattered. I'm all yours, don't worry"My heart jumped. His eyes were open, watching me, amusement tugging at his lips.I forced a smile, sliding back into character. “Baby, you’re awake. I didn’t know.”He sat up, and I curled beside him, lowering my voice like I was confessing a secret. “I wanted to discuss something with you.”His brows lifted. “Wh

Chapter 9:- A dangerous invitation

(Damien’s POV)“Finally, you’ve lost it. I’m serious this time — I need to book you into a psychiatric ward, because I cannot keep calling myself friends with a lunatic.There’s no other explanation for this level of strategic suicide.”Charles’ voice came at me before the door had even closed. He followed me inside, clutching his coffee like it was holy water, pacing like he was waiting for a camera crew to record his grand monologue.I loosened my tie and sank into my chair. “Charles, must you always deliver my eulogy before the body is cold? Stop turning every little thing into an obituary headline.”He spun around, his eyes wild. “Little thing? Damien, you just let the devil stroll into the company like it’s her living room. You didn’t just let her in — you gave her a desk. A desk! What’s the next phase of your surrender? Handing over the corporate seal?”“Strategic decision,” I corrected, calm as ever. “And for your own sake, stop calling her that. If Evie hears you, you’ll lose

Chapter 10:- Demon hunter.

(Evelyn’s POV)Colt led me through the hall and into my office. I glanced around once, my lips curving. A corner office. Right next to Damien’s.Perfect. A queen needs her throne close to the king if she plans to topple him.I sat for a while, went through the paperwork Colt handed me, signed what needed signing, and slipped the rest aside. The work didn’t matter. What mattered was that I had planted myself in Damien’s world again, close enough to watch every twitch of his jaw, every frown he tried to hide.When I finally rose and stepped out, I felt their eyes. Every single one of them. The stares burned from every corner, admiration, envy, whispers. I didn’t expect anything less. After all, I was the woman who had stormed into that party and cut the dreams of a hundred girls who wanted Damien. That thought alone warmed me.I kept walking, my heels sharp on the tiles, dismissing them with a tilt of my chin. Let them whisper. Let them hate. They would learn soon enough—I wasn’t here

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