All Chapters of The secret his ex-wife kept: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The moment Dorico Deliman saw me, the glass in his hand stopped halfway to his lips.For one glorious second, the man who had once made me feel small, unwanted, and replaceable looked as though the world had shifted beneath his feet.I should have enjoyed it.I had spent five years imagining our reunion. In some versions, I slapped him. In others, I walked past him without a glance, leaving him to wonder whether I had ever loved him at all. Sometimes, in my weakest moments, I imagined him apologizing, telling me that everything had been a mistake and that he had never stopped loving me.But standing beneath the golden lights of the Nora Group charity gala, surrounded by wealthy investors and people who measured worth by the number of zeros in a bank account, I discovered that none of those fantasies had prepared me for the real thing.Dorico was still devastatingly handsome.His black tuxedo fit his broad shoulders perfectly. His dark hair was neatly styled, and the sharp lines of his

The first rule I learned after my divorce was simple. Never underestimate a woman who has something to lose. I learned the second rule five years later, when Vivi Crus appeared at my office without an appointment. She arrived at exactly ten in the morning, dressed in a cream-colored suit that probably cost more than my first month's rent after I left Dorico. Her heels clicked against the polished floor, and her smile was so perfect that I immediately distrusted it. My receptionist called me from the front desk. “Ms. Clara, there's a Vivi Crus here to see you. She says it's urgent.” I stopped reviewing the contract in front of me. Vivi. For a moment, I considered telling the receptionist I was unavailable. I had a business to run, a daughter to protect, and a lawyer investigating suspicious documents connected to my divorce. The last thing I needed was a conversation with the woman who had stood beside my husband while he ended our marriage. But curiosity was a dangerous thin

The moment Dorico told me not to let his father find the photograph, I knew one thing for certain.Joaquin Deliman was hiding something that could destroy more than a family reputation.I stared at the picture lying on my kitchen table. The edges were worn, and a faint crease ran through the middle, but the two people in it were unmistakable.Joaquin stood beside a woman I had spent years missing.My mother.She was younger in the photograph, her dark hair falling over one shoulder, her face turned toward Joaquin with an expression I couldn't quite understand. They weren't smiling. They weren't arguing either.They looked like two people who had just made a decision neither could take back.And the date written on the back placed the photograph six months before my wedding.Why had my mother met my future father-in-law without telling me?Why had someone kept this picture for so long?And why did Dorico sound afraid when I told him about it?My phone was still pressed against my ear.

I didn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the same sentence. I acknowledge that the marriage between Dorico Deliman and Mara Clarisse satisfies the condition specified in Section Seven of the Beneficial Interest Agreement. Dorico's signature sat beneath it. Three days before our wedding. I had spent five years believing my marriage ended because my husband had chosen another woman over me. That betrayal was painful enough. It had taken everything I had to leave him, rebuild my life, and learn how to smile without feeling guilty for being happy. Now I was beginning to wonder whether the betrayal had started long before I walked into that hotel room. Had our wedding been a transaction? Had my love been nothing more than a convenient way to fulfill a condition in a document? And if Dorico had known, how could he have looked into my eyes on our wedding day and promised to love me forever? By seven in the morning, I had made three cups of coffee and drunk none of them.

I had spent five years believing I understood how my mother died. Now, one anonymous message had made me question everything. Ask Dorico what happened the night your mother disappeared from the hospital. I read the sentence again as the morning light crept through the curtains of my temporary apartment. My mother had been ill. I remembered the doctors explaining her condition, the exhaustion in her voice, and the way her fingers had felt against mine during those final days. I remembered being told that nothing more could be done. What I didn't remember was anyone mentioning that she had disappeared. Had I misunderstood something back then? Had grief blurred a detail I should have remembered? Or had someone deliberately kept the truth from me? I couldn't afford to invent answers simply because I was frightened. But I couldn't ignore the message either. At eight o'clock, Daisy arrived with two coffees and a list of documents we needed to collect. “Before we go to storage,” s