All Chapters of The CEO'S Dead Wife: A Marriage Made In Hell!: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

ABIGAIL“Help!”The word scraped my throat as I held my stomach. My knees buckled beneath me as pain ripped through my abdomen. The pain was almost unbearable as the world tilted, and I felt the floor meeting my cheek, my breath caught in my chest. My sweaty palms pressed against the cold marble tiles. I could barely breathe, every nerve in my stomach twisting like a thousand knives digging into me.Before I could even try to cry out again, a voice cut through the fog of pain.“Get up this instant, you shameless woman! Don’t you dare stain my precious floor!”I flinched at the words. My mother-in-law’s heels clicked angrily against the tiles as she advanced toward me, her perfume heavy, her disgust even heavier.“This floor costs more than you and your entire miserable family put together,” she sneered, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. “You can’t even do the one thing women are supposed to do, yet you lie there acting like some helpless thing. Pathetic!”Her words were hurtf

Alexander's POVI was angry.Angry and frustrated; in fact, I felt down right enraged.There was no reason for my mood and I knew that so well. If anything, I should be feeling so pleased as hell; after all, I had gotten what I wanted, and I'd wanted Abigail out of my life for a long time. I never wanted her, never chose her! It has always been Sophia.The glass shattered against the floor before I even realized I’d thrown it.Brandy splattered across the carpet, mixing with the remains of the broken picture frame and shards of glass.I sank onto the couch, the half-empty bottle of brandy still clutched in my hand. The fire from it stung my throat as I took another gulp, the burn not nearly enough to drown the gnawing ache in my chest.My gaze fell to the coffee table where the divorce papers lay with her signature bold at the bottom of the page. Still, I didn’t reach for my pen right away. I just sat there, the tick of the clock growing louder, my pulse throbbing behind my eyes.“Si

RICHARDSON'S POVI must have misheard her.I had to have misheard her.The alley was dark, the rainwater still dripping from the metal pipes above, and the dim yellow light from the loading bay barely touched her face. Maybe the night distorted her words. Maybe exhaustion was playing tricks on me.But when I stepped closer, her eyes lifted to mine without a single flinch.“What did you just say?” I asked, my voice low, rougher than usual. I needed to be sure. I needed to hear it again.She swallowed, her fingers coming together nervously, but she didn’t back away.“I said…” She took a breath. “I will be your wife. For a year.”Behind me, Moretti let out a sharp exhale.“What the hell?” he muttered under his breath.I ignored him. My gaze stayed fixed on her.She looked a mess, she was thin, clothes worn to threads, hair tangled, cheeks hollow from God knows how long without proper food. She looked… lost. Desperate. But there was something else in her eyes too.Desperation and determin

ALEXANDER'S POVSix months.It has been exactly six months since Abigail died… and I still wake up every morning reaching for a ghost.I don’t think people understand how guilt works. It doesn’t stab you at once. It seeps into your bones, corrodes your mind little by little, until you become a stranger to your own reflection. That is who I am now, someone I barely recognize. Someone I don’t even like looking at.Six months ago, I buried my wife.Six months ago, I buried myself with her.My company is gone—bankrupt, hollow, hanging by a thread so thin it’s embarrassing to even call it a business anymore. Investors pulled out, partnerships dissolved, and everything I once built with my own hands is now crumbling into dust.And I can’t even blame them.How do you trust a man who can’t stand on his feet without shaking?How do you invest in someone who spends more time drowning in whiskey than actually working?Papers were scattered across my desk in my penthouse, mocking me with their de

ALEXANDER'S POVThe pre-wedding dinner was in full swing, the hall glittering with chandeliers, the soft hum of classical music drifting through the air. I sat at my seat, eyes locked on her the moment she entered. Abigail moved with a grace I recognized but didn’t. She wasn’t the woman I had known. There was something different about her. Her eyes flinched at sudden noises. Her hands trembled slightly when she held her glass. The controlled confidence she displayed in public seemed almost like armor, masking a vulnerability I had never seen before. And yet… she was the same woman I had loved. My heart ached at the contradiction.I observed her from across the room, trying to study every movement, every expression, searching for a flicker of the Abigail I knew. My mind was spinning with questions, suspicions, and a hopeless longing I hadn’t felt in months.Then it happened.Her heel snapped.I didn’t hesitate. My body moved before I even realized it. I was at her side, catching her i