Ex-Wife Became the Top Driver, He Regretted It
For eight years I was Ethan Black's right hand, his ride-or-die. Then I finally married him and became Mrs. Black.
Three months into the marriage, I deliberately shredded one of his contemporary art pieces, a million dollars gone in a few clean strokes, all because his eyes had lingered a second too long on the new intern.
Before Ethan could lose his temper, lines of text bloomed in the air in front of me, telling me I was nothing but the villainess in someone else's novel.
[This woman's completely lost it. Does she really think Ethan married her out of love?]
[He keeps his old buddy around as a human shield to protect his real love. Once she's served her purpose, he ships her off to a psych ward.]
[Watch, the male lead's about to slap her.]
I stared hard at the man coming through the door.
But when Ethan reached me, he didn't even glance at the ruined canvas. He grabbed my hand instead, his voice almost pleading.
"Babe, does it hurt? Did it feel good, ripping it up? If that wasn't enough, there's another hundred of them in the storage room."