My Vengeful Ex Wife Novels & Stories

The conference room was suffocating with tension, the mahogany walls seeming to close in with each passing second. The weight of unspoken words pressed heavily against the air, making it hard to breathe, while the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the polished table. His body was shaking with anger, his mind reeling, unable even to conceptualize such an act. And now Nicole, his ex-wife, had every reason to hate him, the woman he once loved but betrayed, the one he threw out in the streets like a worthless piece of garbage was here to rip it all from him.

She said she had never met anyone as gullible as I was. The divorce papers arrived an hour later. I didn’t bother to go through them. What was the point? The only person that said goodbye to me was the elderly maid who had been working there before I arrived as a maid and later fell in love with my billionaire boss. Getting into the car, I drove off, tears cascading down my cheeks. One moment, I was a happy wife, the next, I was a disgraced ex-wife returning to her hometown.

"Wow, dude. You're saying horrible things. How could you tell your wife to abort?" "Looks like he's reunited with his ex-wife." I smiled wryly. "Yes, I met her again and she made me want to vomit. She trampled on my pride and I can't take it. I will get back at her for everything she has done to me," I told them. My eyes sharpened, flashing with vengeance. "Before I see her destroyed, I will never stop. So stop saying that I love that bitch! Because it makes me so sick every time I hear it!"

He will never find a better woman or wife than Serena was for him. “If I am fucking her or not is none of your business. And your ex-wife, remember? You are no longer married. If I didn’t know any better, I would say you are jealous. What is the matter, big brother? Felicity, not what you wanted after all?” I chuckle. With every word, his jaw gets tighter, his knuckles turn white, and he clenches them. Not only is his anger obvious, but his face and eyes are full of regret. He knows the mistake he made.

I opened T*****r. My heart sank. There were photos of us on the red carpet. Hundreds of them. Me leaning into Damian. Damian’s hand on my waist. Us dancing. The captions were brutal. *“Thorne’s New Trophy Wife.”* *“From Rags to Riches: The Gambler’s Daughter.”* *“Is Elara Vance a Gold Digger? Sources Say Yes.”* One article, from a gossip blog called *City Secrets*, had over a million views. It detailed my father’s debts, my mother’s failed businesses, and my own lack of career success. It painted me as a desperate woman who had trapped a billionaire into marriage.

Digby thought on his feet quickly and raised his voice, "You slut! You took advantage of me while I was drunk. I didn't think you'd actively seek to upset my wife to the point that she miscarried. I have to get revenge for my dead child!" After hearing this, many who had been willing to help were hesitant. That woman was a mistress who had ruined someone else's household and caused a miscarriage for the man's wife? Then there was no reason to feel sorry for her.

I said coldly, “you start to think everyone around you is just as rotten as you are.” He laughed. “As I said, from the very first moment I saw you, I saw it. There’s nothing worse than a vindictive woman. And that’s what you are. That’s what you became.” His gaze darkened. “And for ten years, it was fine… until you decided to kill my son.” I blinked once. “Excuse me?” I said slowly. “Kill your son?” My voice dropped, sharp and controlled. “Your son shot my husband, which later led to him being shot. I didn’t fire the shot. I didn’t invite him to the wedding. And I didn’t tell him to shoot anyone.”

"You're my wife!" "Ex-wife," I corrected firmly, standing up from my chair. "You signed the divorce papers yourself, remember? You were so eager to get rid of me that you couldn't sign them fast enough." Tracy stepped closer, her face twisted with jealousy and hatred. "Stop lying, Vanya. We all know what you really are. You're nothing but a gold-digging whore who found herself a new sugar daddy." I felt Richmond tense beside me, but I put my hand on his arm to stop him from intervening. This was my fight, and I was going to handle it myself.

“You better don't be here when I get back because I will fucking kill you and bury you myself.” I sprinted out of my office and dialled my wife's number as I entered into my car. Driving out of the company like a drunken man. The call entered voice mail and I cursed under my breath. I swear, I won't ever forgive myself if anything happen to Valentina.

I turned back one last time—with almost teary eyes—to face the white mansion where I grew up. "Bye, bye," I said to the house and got into my car. My phone chimed. Freaking Vayden: I emptied a nightstand. Will it be enough to keep all your stuff? Viana: I will kill you. Freaking Vayden: Already threatening your recently married husband. I must really be a lucky man. Wow. Viana: Whatever.