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My Ex-Mr. Is Back and Wants Me Back

NovelShort Completed

Romance Second Chance Billionaire MarriageRejected

Genevieve, once finding solace and security in her relationship with Wesley Adamson, soon discovers that he becomes the catalyst for her emotional barriers. Initially, Wesley viewed Genevieve as the sole source of truth in his life, but deceit eventually taints their connection. Genevieve's past unfolds as she used to be married to Wesley Adamson, a captivating billionaire renowned for his striking appearance. However, their relationship takes a tumultuous turn when Wesley becomes increasingly absorbed in his work and abruptly ejects Genevieve from their shared home. Accusing her of infidelity, he shatters the foundation of their love, forcing Genevieve to reluctantly leave behind the man she adored. Although left broken and vulnerable, this experience becomes a turning point for Genevieve as she begins to recognize her own value and realizes that she never needed to live in Wesley's shadow. Fast forward three years, and Genevieve has blossomed into the CEO of a prominent company, carving her own path in the world. She has managed to rebuild her life, fueled by determination and a newfound sense of self-worth. However, the tranquility she has fought so hard to achieve is disrupted when her ex-husband resurfaces, unexpectedly seeking to reignite their relationship. Caught between her past and present, Genevieve is confronted with a complex dilemma. Will she allow herself to be swayed by the charm and familiarity of Wesley's presence, or will she stand firm in her newfound independence? As their paths intersect once again, Genevieve must navigate the treacherous waters of love, trust, and self-discovery to determine her own destiny.

Chapters (6)

第1章

Genevieve's POV Three years had passed since the painful chapter of my life when everything fell apart. As the CEO of a successful company, I immersed myself in work, dedicating my time to sealing deals and managing the business. My secretary informed me of an upcoming meeting with a partner, which I scheduled for the next day, making it clear that I had no patience for arrogant individuals later in the day. Melissa, my assistant, prepared to leave for the day, and I granted her permission with a nod. She flashed a grateful smile before exiting my office. Closing my laptop, I glanced at the clock and realized it was already 5 in the afternoon. Taking a moment to admire the breathtaking view of New York City from my window, I leaned against the glass, watching the twinkling lights of the city's nightlife. The bustling crowd below reminded me that I was not alone in striving for success, while the few taller buildings stood as a reminder of the heights I still aimed to reach. Three years ago, I made the agonizing decision to walk away from the love of my life, enduring unimaginable pain. Wesley had sent the divorce papers to my late mother's house, severing our connection with venomous words and his signature—a cruel testament to my insignificance in his eyes. I had desperately tried to reach out, hoping to explain that I hadn't betrayed him, concocting plans to prove my innocence. Yet, my calls were redirected to his secretary or sent straight to voicemail. In one last attempt, I returned to our shared home, only to find an empty house stripped of any remnants of our life together—no cars, no photographs, and no memories. It was as if I had been completely erased from his existence. Nevertheless, when I signed and returned the divorce papers, I took back my name and erased any trace of my existence in his life. They say, "It takes a strong heart to love, but an even stronger heart to continue loving after being hurt." But I disagree. It takes a strong heart to love, but an even stronger mind to persevere after being abandoned. Though Wesley left me with nothing, I held onto my education, using it as a foundation to rebuild my life. I found employment, burying myself at work, and once I had enough resources, I purchased my own house and started my own business, which flourished. Now, I stand as the CEO of one of America's leading companies. With time, I began to move on from Wesley. I ceased searching for him in crowded rooms, I stopped reaching across the bed to find his warmth in the mornings, and I abandoned the habit of comparing other men to him. However, the pain still lingered. He had been the only man I had loved so deeply, and for that, I would forever hold a bitter resentment toward him. Despite my attempts to forgive him, I couldn't. We had spent three years together, sharing trust and vulnerability, only for him to accuse me of infidelity. That wound would never fully heal. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, willing myself to let go of the bitterness and erase those three years from my mind. When the rumble of thunder reached my ears, signaling an approaching storm, I sighed and grabbed my laptop, slipping it into my purse. It was time to leave the office. Malachi, my bodyguard, stood by the elevator, ready to accompany me home. Some might consider it excessive to have a bodyguard, but past experiences had taught me that jealousy could drive people to do unthinkable things, especially given the wealth I had accumulated. I had risen from a background of poverty. My parents have been homeless during a significant portion of my childhood. Through hard work and perseverance, I earned scholarships that propelled me toward success. As Malachi and I stepped into the elevator, I reflected on the importance of working diligently for what one desires, emphasizing that cheating in life was not a viable option. "How was your day, Malachi?" I asked, breaking the silence that enveloped us. "Just the usual, Ms. Chadwick," he replied, glancing back at me. "Malachi, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Natasha?" I said, with a light tone. "Excuse me, Natasha," he responded in his deep, husky voice. As my business career progressed, I knew that at some point, I would have to face Wesley. That's why I changed my name, making it harder for him to track me down. Additionally, by assuming a different identity, I hoped to ensure that any business interactions would be devoid of personal emotions. I just had to make sure I never encountered him in person. "Mhm," I murmured, a slight grin playing on my lips as I continued to gaze at Malachi. Standing at around 6'3", he had neatly slicked back dark brown hair and honey-colored eyes that I often found myself envying. A light stubble adorned his jawline, accentuating his handsome features. Like every other day, he wore a sleek black suit that perfectly hugged his frame, paired with a crisp button-down shirt. His appearance was undeniably captivating. Although it pained me to admit it, I found myself incredibly sexually frustrated, and Malachi seemed like a possible solution to that predicament. The attraction between us was evident, but given my lack of trust in anyone romantically, I could only see him as a friend with benefits. Since Wesley, it seemed impossible for me to view anyone through a romantic lens. The elevator doors opened, and both of us stepped out, with Malachi slightly behind me. What caught me off guard was his hand gently resting on my back. A mischievous smile formed on my face, and I decided to play along. He guided me out of the building, opening the door to the sleek black SUV he always used to take me home. Placing my hand on his shoulder, I let it trail down to his arm as I settled into the back seat. I noticed his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, a clear sign of his nervousness. Internally, I relished in the power of making a man like him feel that way. "To the house, Ms. - Natasha," he said, clearing his throat. "Yes, please," I replied, unlocking my phone, aware of his eyes lingering on me through the rearview mirror. We were engaged in a dangerous teasing game, both inching closer to one another until one of us would eventually give in to the mounting tension. As the air thickened with anticipation during the drive, a sense of relief washed over me when the car finally came to a halt in front of my house. Gracefully, I emerged from the vehicle, eager to breathe in the freedom from the charged atmosphere inside. I walked toward my private elevator, knowing that Malachi would not be far behind, as he usually accompanied me to the elevator each evening. I swiped my card to unlock it, and as the two metal doors slid open, he slipped his arm between them to prevent them from closing on me. A seductive smile played on my lips as I awaited his words. But to my disappointment, he broke our gaze and cleared his throat. "I will see you tomorrow, Natasha," he said, his voice slightly faltering. "I'll see you tomorrow, Malachi," I replied, offering him a small smile.

第2章

Wesley's POV "Sir?" My secretary cautiously asked, peering into my office. "What?" I grumbled, not in the mood to engage with another human being. "You have to travel to New York today for the investors meeting. I've scheduled your flight for 8 tonight," she informed me. "Fuck, fine," I muttered, dreading the thought of leaving LA. "Just a heads up, the owner of—" She began, stepping into my office. "I don't give a single fuck who it is. The deal will bring us more money. Now get the fuck out of my office," I snapped at her, my gaze still fixed on my laptop. "Y-yes, sir," she stumbled over her words, retreating from my office. Running my hand down my face in frustration, I grappled with the chaos that seemed to consume my life. When I had someone so perfect, I managed to ruin it. The only light and beauty I had been blessed with, I destroyed it. When my former secretary, who had an unhealthy obsession with me, showed me pictures of Genevieve with another man, I believed her and divorced Genevieve. A year later, my old best friend Declan, who despised me for what I had said and done to Genevieve, investigated further and discovered that the pictures were fake—Genevieve never cheated. Even when I believed those pictures were real, I felt an emptiness without her. I delved into a promiscuous lifestyle, hoping to fill the gaping void in my chest, but nothing ever sufficed. Woman after woman, no matter how hard I tried to replace Genevieve, I failed. They were all pale imitations compared to her; our feelings for each other were genuine, while everything else felt counterfeit. Genevieve was real. Upon learning the truth, I ceased my promiscuity and devoted all my time to searching for her. She was the only person who accepted me and helped me become a better person, and yet, I had pushed her away. I yearned to turn back time and erase everything I had said that night, but that was impossible. All I could do was find her and apologize. Every aspect of her haunted me—the sensation of her blonde hair between my fingers, the memory of her captivating green eyes when I closed my own, her smile that could halt the world, and her breathtaking body. But more than the physical longing, it was the emotional connection I missed the most. She brought light and meaning to my life, even though I resisted admitting it. No one else could make me feel as genuinely happy as she did. Every day, I hated myself for what I had done to her. "Wesley," someone called, entering my office. "What?" I huffed, looking up from my laptop. It was my private investigator, whom I had hired to find Genevieve, but he had no folder in his hands. 'Fuck,' I thought to myself. "I don't have any information on her, sir," he said hesitantly. "Get the fuck out. You're fired," I retorted, throwing my pens across the room in anger. The man hastily retreated, closing the door behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts. He had one fucking job—to find Genevieve—and he couldn't even accomplish that. Pathetic. I grabbed the whiskey glass next to my laptop and hurled it across the room, watching as it shattered upon impact. My heart clenched with a mix of emotions and thoughts swirling in my head. It had been three long years, and I still hadn't found her, hadn't explained what had truly happened. For three years, she believed that I despised her, that I meant every hurtful word I had said. I knew that with each passing day, she might start believing those awful things or worse, move on. Both possibilities made me sick to my stomach. Every day I'm not with her is another day she can use to forget about me. She signed the divorce papers, returned the rings, and disappeared. She no longer carries my last name, my promises, or my love. She has nothing to remind her of me. Yet, every waking moment, my mind is consumed by her thoughts. I worry about her, regret everything I did, and know that she likely harbors nothing but hate for me. So many people tell me that if I truly love something, I must let it go. But I am weak. I can not live without her, and these past three years have only intensified that realization. Life holds no joy for me; the word "home" has lost its meaning without her, and the phrase "I love you" has no purpose unless it is spoken to her. "Sir?" My secretary timidly called from the doorway of my office. "For heaven's sake, what?" I screamed in frustration, my anger misdirected. "You have to leave for the airport now," she trembled. "Fine, now leave me," I demanded, dismissing her. She nodded, hastily closing the door behind her. I walked over to the window in my office, desperately scanning the city below, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, her golden locks bouncing as she walked. But alas, there was no sign of her. I closed my eyes and clenched my fists, overcome with frustration. Stepping away from the window, I grabbed my briefcase and made my way out of the office, glaring at my secretary, who appeared frightened beyond measure. "Let's get this pointless shit over with," I muttered, rolling my eyes at her evident nervousness. As I thought about the upcoming trip, I couldn't shake the feeling that it would be a futile endeavor. "This trip is going to be a waste of my time," I mused to myself, already resigned to the belief that finding her would be an impossible task.

第3章

Genevieve's POV I woke up to the blaring sound of my alarm and the sun seeping through the curtains, casting its light upon my eyes. Groaning in frustration, I reluctantly dragged myself out of bed. Despite the strong temptation to stay and sleep, I had an important meeting with the investors today. After a few more minutes of laying down, I finally mustered the willpower to get up and began preparing for the day. I turned on the shower, hoping that the cascading water would wash away my worries. Closing my eyes, I allowed the hot water to embrace my skin, but my mind involuntarily drifted back to a memory that was now tainted. Flashback... Someone had been aggressively knocking on the door for several seconds, and I called out, expecting it to be Wesley. I opened the door, only to feel my hands trembling and my eyes widening in horror. Standing before me was not Wesley, but the man I had feared my entire life—my step-father. "Miss me, you little whore," he spat before forcefully entering my apartment. Frozen in fear, I couldn't move, uncertain of his intentions. "W-what are you doing here?" I stammered, my voice trembling as I slowly turned to face him. "I'm here for you, of course," he said, smirking as I shuddered in terror. I watched as he approached me with purposeful strides, his hand beginning to rise. Instinctively, my hand went up to shield my face as I tightly closed my eyes. The sound of the slap reverberated through the room, and a few moments later, I felt the searing pain on my cheek where his hand had struck. "P-please, stop," I begged, avoiding his gaze and focusing on the ground beneath me. "Did I give you permission to speak?" He snarled, grabbing my hair with one hand and lifting my frail body off the ground, his other hand wrapped around my neck. With all the strength I could muster, I shook my head, still gasping for air as his grip constricted. I struggled to breathe, my heart pounding in my ears, and my hands continued to tremble violently. Darkness began to cloud my vision, and just as I felt myself on the verge of losing consciousness, he released his grip, allowing me to fall to the ground, gasping for precious air. Looking up at him in terror, all I saw was his smirk, his eyes intently observing my every move. "Don't ever think you can escape me. I will always follow you," he promised, leaning down over me before delivering a harsh kick to my stomach. I cried out in pain as I watched him leave my apartment. Lying on the floor, I eventually mustered the strength to crawl to the bathroom and step into the shower. I turned on the water, attempting to wash away the memory of his touch, but all I felt was numbness, a detachment from everything. As the water turned cold and my teeth began to chatter, I remained oblivious, lost in my own world. After a while, I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around me, and I looked up to meet the gaze of those magnificent grey eyes. My body relaxed under his touch as he carried me out of the shower and gently placed me on the bed. End of Flashback... That was the moment I let my walls come crashing down, and I came to the realization that I loved him. My mistake. I sighed and turned off the water, needing to clear his face and memories from my mind. Stepping out of the shower, I dried my body with the white towel hanging next to the shower door. Wrapping the small towel around my body, I walked over to the bathroom counter. I picked up my new hair dryer and began drying my hair. Once it was dry, I reached for a curling iron and created loose curls. Applying some light makeup, including smokey eyeshadow, mascara, and a nude-reddish lipstick, I admired my handiwork with a smile. Stepping out of the bathroom, I entered my walk-in closet, greeted by my collection of clothes, purses, shoes, and jewelry. Being the CEO of a major company not only had its perks but also paid very well. While I usually refrained from boasting about my wealth, I could confidently say that I was a billionaire.

第4章

Yet, despite my success, I couldn't help but scrunch my nose when reflecting on my journey. Even with my tremendous achievements, it took immense effort to get here, hindered by the pervasive sexism in society. I had lost many deals and clients simply because I was a woman running the company. They often claimed that a woman couldn't handle a man's job and that emotions disqualified me from running a business. Over the years since my divorce from Wesley, I had toughened up. Having someone distrust you was different from facing disbelief and unequal opportunities simply because I lacked a certain anatomy. But I had persevered, and I was now successful and content... somewhat. I chose a white blouse from one of the hangers, along with a black skirt and a belt. Changing out of my towel and into the outfit, I admired myself in the mirror. Wesley had always told me not to go to the gym because I was perfect the way I was, but in the past years, I had committed to daily workouts, and I was proud of my progress. Not only did I have a slightly toned stomach, but my posture had improved, and I had developed the ability to defend myself if needed. Stepping away from the mirror, I grabbed my purse and made my way downstairs, where Malachi was waiting. "Hello, Ms. Car- I mean Natasha," he said, correcting himself. "Hello, Malachi. I think today I'll be taking the Porsche, so you can just follow me," I replied, opening a cabinet where the keys to all my cars were kept. I grabbed the keys to my black matte Porsche 918. "Whatever you need," he said, holding the elevator door open for me. I gave him a smile as I walked into the elevator and descended down to my garage, where all five of my prized vehicles were kept. Unlocking the Porsche, I got in and turned the keys, listening to the engine purr to life. Music to my ears. Opening the garage door, I drove out onto the busy streets, with Malachi in his SUV not far behind me. I drove to my building and parked right outside, taking a moment to admire the towering glass structure. I then walked into the white, modern reception area. Making my way to the private elevator reserved for my use, I noticed everyone walking within three feet of me respectfully stepping aside. I grinned, acknowledging the level of respect they had for me. Stepping into the elevator with Malachi right next to me, we rode it all the way up to the top floor. The doors opened, and I stepped out, heading straight to my office. It was located at the end of the hallway, with my secretary's office on the left and conference rooms lining the right side. "Boss, they are waiting for you in the conference room," she said, standing up. I frowned, glancing at my watch—it was 9:47 AM. "Who is here?" I asked, curious as to who had arrived before the scheduled 10 AM meeting. "One of the investors and his assistant," she replied, motioning towards Conference Room 1. "Okay, thank you," I said, making my way into the conference room. "I apologize for keeping you wa—" I began, but my words trailed off as I laid my eyes on the two individuals in the room, most importantly the person who had shattered my heart. "Mr. Adamson."

第5章

Genevieve's POV My breath caught, and I froze at the sight of him, my blood running cold. He was seated in one of the chairs, accompanied by a woman. His black crisp suit accentuated his every feature. His eyes, still as captivating as I remembered, were a piercing gray. But this time, looking into them didn't evoke warmth; instead, I felt a bitter sensation towards him. His brown hair, once messy, was now slicked back, with a few stray strands escaping. In conclusion, he was still the most handsome man I had ever met, but I would never admit that to him. My trance was broken when I heard the woman next to him clear her throat. My gaze shifted from him to her. She was stunning, with long black hair elegantly tied up in a bun, enhancing her beautiful face shape. Her deep green eyes, adorned with light green eyeshadow and bright red lipstick, were captivating. A slight pang in my heart reminded me that such a gorgeous woman was sitting beside him, but I had to remind myself that he was no longer mine, and he treated me worse than I deserved. I no longer loved him; he didn't matter. Realizing I had been staring, I refocused my attention. Both the woman and Wesley were here for business. "Mr. Adamson," I said, maintaining composure in my voice. Internally, I commended myself for not stuttering and sounding perfectly professional. "Aless—" he began, his voice desperate as he leaned forward towards me. "You must have mistaken me for someone else. I am Natasha Chadwick. I apologize for my absence. We have a few more clients on the way, but once they arrive, we can proceed with the meeting regarding the investments," I stated, making my way to the other end of the table and taking a seat at the head. "Um, we are here to meet the owner of the company. We specifically requested to meet with the CEO, not the secretary," the woman seated next to Wesley remarked. I observed Wesley's fists clench and his jaw tense in response to her comment. Sighing, I hoped she was merely confused about why I was seated at the head of the table. "I am the CEO, Ms.," I replied, looking away from Wesley and directing my attention to the woman. "Of course you are," she mumbled under her breath. She likely believed that no one else would hear, but unfortunately for her, she was unsuccessful. "I will not tolerate people undermining me or questioning my leadership skills. If you can't keep your comments to yourself, I will withdraw my proposition. Not only will that cost you millions of dollars, but it will also encourage other companies to follow suit, as many look up to mine," I calmly asserted, growing tired of the sexism I faced not only from men but also from envious women. Wesley clenched his fists even tighter, shutting his eyes as he attempted to calm himself. "I apologize on Ingrid's behalf, and she will refrain from speaking for the remainder of the meeting," he said, turning to Ingrid. His tone came across more as a threat than an order. Ingrid's eyes widened, and she pouted, reaching out to touch Wesley's arm like a child. "But Wesleyyyyyy," she whined. A small pang reverberated in my heart when she called him that, but I frowned, questioning why I felt emotional and physical pain. I had moved on from Wesley; I shouldn't care if he had found someone new. Perhaps I was on the verge of a heart attack. Huh. "Don't," he threatened, forcefully removing her hands from his arms. She seemed to understand that he was angry and didn't push him further. As he looked back at me, his eyes softened, but my body reacted differently. Even with his gaze upon me, my entire body tensed, and my chest tightened to the point where breathing felt difficult. Despite my attempts to pretend he was nothing more than a businessman, the reality remained: he was my husband, someone I used to love. And on top of that, he betrayed me, accused me, and left me with nothing. I felt, and still feel, unloved, burdened with trust issues and numerous other problems caused by him. I felt suffocated in his presence, longing to leave the room and escape the memories and emotions I had suppressed. But I knew I would eventually have to face him, and now was the perfect opportunity to prove to both him and myself that I was okay without him. "Ale—" he started, but halted when five other businessmen entered the room. I knew he wouldn't attempt to talk to me again because whatever he wanted to say, he wouldn't say in front of others. I calmed myself by taking a few breaths and waited for the remaining participants to settle in. Once everyone was ready to start the meeting, I began discussing my propositions for the companies. Throughout the meeting, I could feel Wesley's eyes on me, but I never once looked at him. Instead, I focused on the other businessmen when he spoke. As much as I despised admitting it, he was excellent at his job. He spoke with determination and authority, leaving no room for questioning his intentions. At the conclusion of the meeting, I felt a sense of pride. All the companies became my clients, investing in my company, and I left them with mutually beneficial agreements. The men stood up and bid me farewell with a small bow before exiting the room, except for one. I could still sense his presence, his gaze, as I stood up and gathered my files from the table. "Ingrid, wait for me in the car," his low, husky voice commanded, sending shivers down my spine. "I'll be waiting," she responded, raising her voice on pitch, a sound that made me cringe. I continued organizing the papers into the files, focusing on the task at hand, until I could no longer hear their footsteps. Holding my breath, I collected the organized files in my hands and finally looked up to where Wesley was still standing. He gazed at me with his deep gray eyes, and I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. Collecting myself, I offered him a small, insincere smile out of courtesy, even though he didn't deserve it. I began walking towards him, as he stood by the door, needing to escape his presence as quickly as possible—for his sake. Holding my head high, I averted my gaze from him to the door, silently praying that he wouldn't speak to me, not wanting him to accuse me of false things, yet again.

第6章

"Genevieve," he said softly, his words almost compelling me to stop and look at him. But I refused, walking right past him towards the door. I exhaled once I was past him, almost out of the room. However, I held my breath again when I felt his grip on my wrists, pulling me into his chest. Instantly, my other arm pushed against his chest, attempting to push him away, hoping to avoid having to engage in conversation. But he persisted, pushing me against the wall, trapping me with his presence, both his arms resting on the wall behind me. "Mr. Adamson, would you kindly remove yourself from me," I said, anger slowly rising within me as I realized the gravity of the situation. How dare he accuse me of things I never did, throw me out of our house, leave me with nothing, and now, three years later, suddenly act this way. "Fuck, Genevieve, don't call me that," he said, his eyes flashing with anger. The rage burned within me, coursing through my veins as I heard Wesley's audacious demand. "My name is Natasha, and if you do not remove yourself from me, I will have someone else do it for you," I threatened, my eyes locked with his in a fierce glare. His body heat radiated towards me, triggering memories of the last time we had been this close. It was the day before he accused me of cheating. Back then, I would have cherished this proximity and yearned for his touch. But I wasn't that person anymore. I didn't care for him, and his closeness only served as a reminder of how he had abandoned me. "No, you're not Natasha, you're Genevieve. My Genevieve," he asserted, his hand gently caressing my cheek with his thumb. Confusion washed over me as I questioned why he was being affectionate when he believed I had cheated. However, his touch snapped me back to reality, and I felt repulsed by his hands on me. No matter how much I told myself I hated him, his touch still ignited sparks within me, and I had to fight the urge to lean into it. But deep down, both my heart and mind agreed on one thing: I was completely and utterly disgusted with Wesley. Ignoring his touch, I searched for Malachi through the glass walls of the conference room. I found him outside my office, his concerned gaze fixed upon me. I gave him a desperate look, and he instantly understood what I needed. Nodding in response, he strode purposefully towards Wesley and me. "Get off of me, sir," I commanded Wesley, meeting his gaze with anger, only to be met with desire in his eyes. "Genevieve, don't call me that ever fucking again," he retorted, his expression shifting from desire to rage. His hand retreated from my face, forming into a tight fist, while his jaw clenched and his body tensed. He opened his mouth to say something, but Malachi intervened by placing his hand on Wesley's shoulder, causing him to spin around and face Malachi. "Excuse me, sir, but if you have no other business with Ms. Chadwick, I must ask you to leave the building," Malachi said, his tone carrying a threatening undertone. Though when I looked at them side by side, Wesley definitely exuded a more menacing presence than Malachi did. Tension filled the air as I anxiously awaited Wesley's reaction, but to my surprise, he released a deep chuckle, finding amusement in the situation. "And who are you to threaten me?" He asked in a mocking tone. Malachi's expression remained devoid of amusement, replaced by a scowl. "I am her guard, and now I will escort you off the premises," he stated, his voice tinged with darkness. "Well, she doesn't need a guard anymore. I am her husband, so you are fired," Wesley proclaimed, his voice devoid of humor. Malachi's expression darkened further, but my shock overwhelmed me, and annoyance towards Wesley's childish and absurd claims began to rise. I took a deep breath, mindful that I was still in a workplace. As the boss of a company, I couldn't afford any outbursts. Not only would it raise questions among my employees, but as a woman, it could jeopardize everything I had worked for. People would question whether my company truly rose from nothing or if I had an unfair advantage, which was not the case. I walked away from the wall, placing myself in front of Wesley with Malachi standing behind me. "I am your ex-wife. We are not married and haven't been since you threw me out of the house. Do not tempt me, Wesley. I will sue you if you repeat that sentence again," I snapped, making sure my voice was loud enough for both Malachi and Wesley to hear, yet not loud enough to attract attention from others. Wesley's eyes shifted away from Malachi and locked onto mine. He slowly began to lean towards me, but I swiftly moved back and to the side, out of his reach. I had no intention of allowing him to touch me again. Marching past Wesley, I positioned myself behind Malachi, using his presence as a shield. Wesley turned around to fWesley both Malachi and me. I held my breath, instinctively placing my body slightly behind Malachi for protection. "Let's go now," Malachi asserted, stepping forward towards Wesley. Wesley glared at Malachi, but then straightened his suit and ran his hand through his hair before nodding in acknowledgment. Releasing a small breath I hadn't realized I was holding, I watched as Wesley walked past Malachi and headed toward the elevators at the end of the hallway. As he took long strides, my muscles tensed when I noticed Wesley pause and slowly looked back at me. "Why didn't you try to convince me that you didn't cheat? I know the truth, but why didn't you attempt to tell me?" He asked, searching my eyes with his dark grey gaze. My face paled at his question, and for a moment, it felt as if my heart stopped completely. He knew the truth. He knew that I hadn't cheated. A wave of relief washed over me, realizing that this might be the closure I needed to finally move on from him, once and for all. Redirecting my attention back to Wesley, I steadied my breath before responding. "I don't care about you anymore, so I couldn't care less about your opinion of me," I replied, turning away from him before I could witness his reaction. I walked straight into my office, closing the door behind me. Sliding down to the floor, my back pressed against the door, I brought my hands to my face, feeling a pang of pain in my chest as I realized the weight of what I had just said to Wesley. Fuck.