Chasing the Ex-Wife

Chapter 1

Camilla Moretti;

"Sign the goddamn papers, Camilla."

The words hit me like a slap. Nikolai stood across from me, his expression colder than the winter air seeping through the open window.

"What?" My voice trembled as I clutched the chair for support. "Nik, it's late. We need to leave for your mom's birthday." I forced a smile, desperate for normalcy, even as my hands shook.

He didn't blink. "I won't repeat myself. Sign the papers." A lump rose in my throat. "Why? What did I do?" My voice cracked. "I've done nothing wrong."

"That's the problem," he said flatly. "You've done nothing, Camilla. And I'm done. I want you out by tomorrow. "Each word was a dagger. "You're... leaving me?" My knees buckled, but I clung to the chair, refusing to fall. "After everything-"

"Enough." His tone was sharp, final. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be."I searched his face for any sign of the man I loved, but he was gone. The man standing before me was a stranger, and his indifference stung more than his words.

"Nik, please..." The plea slipped from my lips before I could stop it.

He turned, walking away without another word, leaving me standing in the ruins of our marriage.

The buzz of my phone startled me. I wiped my tears and glanced at the screen-Mother-in-law. The name alone made my stomach twist.

I answered quickly, forcing my voice to steady.

"Hello, Mother. I saw your missed call."

Her sharp voice sliced through the line. "Where's Nikolai? Where the hell are you two? Why aren't you here yet?" I clenched the phone tightly, her impatience grating against my already fragile nerves. She didn't care how I was or even bothered to ask. All she wanted was Nikolai-like always.

"Ma, the thing is-"

"Enough of your excuses, Camilla! Be here in the next few minutes!" she snapped, cutting me off before I could explain. The line went dead before I even had a chance to breathe.

I lowered the phone, staring blankly at the screen. Her voice still echoed in my mind, sharp and impatient, as if I were nothing but a nuisance. My chest tightened, and I released a shaky sigh.

God... what on earth have I done to deserve this?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. The memories rushed in, uninvited. It wasn't the first time Nikolai's mother treated me this way. Her disdain had been clear from the moment I entered their lives.

"You'll never be good enough for my son," she had said to me on the day Nikolai brought me home to meet her. Her words had been like a dagger to the heart, but Nikolai's arm around my waist had given me a sliver of hope. It'll get better, I had told myself back then. She just needs time to know me. But she never did. Every family dinner, every gathering, every interaction-it was always the same. Her icy stares, her passive-aggressive remarks, her constant reminders that I didn't belong. And now, here I was, forced to endure yet another gathering after being blindsided by divorce papers.

I shook my head, trying to dispel the bitter memories. There was no time to dwell. If I didn't show up, she'd find another way to punish me. I had no choice but to face her. And maybe, just maybe, I'd get a chance to confront Nikolai about everything. Dragging myself to the bathroom, I stepped under the shower, the hot water cascading over me. My tears fell freely, mingling with the water, but I didn't bother wiping them away. The weight of Nikolai's coldness, the divorce papers, and his mother's never-ending disdain pressed down on me.

After what felt like an eternity, I forced myself to get ready. I chose a simple dress and dabbed on the barest hint of makeup, hoping it would conceal the puffiness around my eyes.

As I looked in the mirror, my reflection mocked me. My once-bright eyes now looked dull, lifeless. My lips trembled as I whispered, "Pathetic."

I bit back the sob that threatened to escape and swiped at the corners of my eyes. No more tears. Not now. Not when I have to face her.

I sat down for a moment, gripping the edge of the vanity as another memory clawed its way to the surface. I forced myself to stand. Straightening my shoulders, I took a deep, steadying breath. "You can do this, Camilla. One night. Just get through it."

Grabbing my bag, I headed for the door. The night ahead would be filled with fake smiles, bitter memories, and buried pain-but maybe, just maybe, I'd find the answers I needed.

The drive felt like an eternity. Forty minutes of endless thoughts swirling in my mind, each one darker than the last. By the time I pulled up to the sprawling estate, my heart was racing, a steady drumbeat of anxiety echoing in my chest.

The security guards recognized me and waved me in, their polite smiles doing little to ease my nerves. The house was stunning, draped in extravagant decorations for his mother's birthday. The chandelier in the grand hall bathed everything in a warm, golden glow, but I felt none of its warmth.

As soon as I stepped inside, her voice rang out, sharp and demanding. "Camilla! Where's Nikolai?"

I turned to face my mother-in-law, her piercing gaze already locked on me. Her presence was as commanding as ever, and it had only taken her seconds to single me out.

I forced a polite smile. "Ma, he's still at the office, handling some business. He won't be able to make it tonight."

Her eyes narrowed, lips pursing in obvious disapproval. "And you decided to come alone?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but she waved me off, turning to greet her circle of friends. Her dismissal stung, but it wasn't unexpected. A waiter approached, holding a tray of champagne. I reached for a glass, hoping it would steady my nerves, but my mother-in-law's voice cut through the air.

"Don't give her one," she said sharply. The waiter froze, looking at me apologetically.

Her attention turned back to me, her expression cold. "Maybe you should eat less instead. You'll need room to carry a grandchild for me."

My cheeks burned with humiliation, but I kept my composure. Not here. Don't let her see you break.

"When are you going to give me a child, Camilla?" she pressed, her tone dripping with disdain. "You've been married long enough. Or is there... a problem?"

"Ma, I-"

I tried to find the words, but my voice faltered. The weight of her judgment pressed down on me, and just as I was about to gather myself, a voice rang out from behind.

"Mom, I'm here."

The room went still. Every head turned toward the entrance, mine included. And there he was. Nikolai.

For a moment, my heart lifted-until I saw her.

A slender, elegant woman stood beside him, her hand resting possessively on his arm. Nikolai's hand was wrapped around her wrist in a way that spoke of intimacy. They entered as a pair, their presence commanding the room as if the world revolved around them. My breath caught as they walked closer, their steps in sync. The woman's eyes flickered toward me, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips.

"Camilla," Nikolai said casually, his voice carrying no warmth, no acknowledgment of the chaos he'd left in his wake. "You're here."

And then, as if to twist the knife deeper, he added, "Meet Alessia-my fiancée." My world tilted, the air knocked from my lungs. Fiancée?

CHAPTER 2

Camilla Moretti;

"What are you saying, Nik?" My voice trembled, barely above a whisper. My body felt frozen, as if the world had shifted beneath my feet.

Nikolai's expression remained cold, detached. "Mother, Camilla and I are divorced now... Actually, Alessia is the one I love." His words sliced through me, sharp and deliberate.

"Oh, is that so?" Mrs. Thompson, my mother-in-law, beamed, her eyes sparkling with approval. "Well, Alessia, you're welcome! I always knew my son had impeccable taste in women!"

Alessia stepped forward, brushing past me as if I were invisible, her hand slipping into Mrs. Thompson's with practiced ease. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Thompson," she said sweetly, her voice laced with triumph. "I've heard so much about you!"

I clenched my fists at my sides, my nails biting into my palms. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in. My gaze flickered to Nikolai, searching for any sign of the man I once knew, the man who had promised to love me.

But his cold, indifferent eyes only confirmed the truth.

"So... all these years and-" My voice broke, tears spilling freely. "What is this? What's happening, Nikolai? One minute you send me divorce papers, and now a woman is in your arms!"

"Enough!" Mrs. Thompson snapped, her tone sharp enough to silence the room. "My son knows his worth. Besides, you've been married for years and still no heir. He has every right to divorce you. Don't make a scene here!"

"You must be Camilla," Alessia said, her voice sickly sweet as she stepped closer. "I've heard so much about you. You lost your baby, didn't you? That must've been hard."

Her words twisted the knife further. My breath caught, and I turned to Nikolai, my vision blurred by tears. Only he knew about my loss. My heart pounded as realization dawned-he must have told her.

"How could you..." I trailed off, raking my hands through my hair, trying to ground myself. The room was alive with murmurs, the whispers and clicking phones adding to my torment. "Who is she? Is she Nikolai's wife?"

"No, the wife is the one with Mrs. Thompson."

The hushed voices grew louder, feeding off my humiliation.

"Look, Camilla, today is a special day for my mother, and I won't have you ruining it. Do us all a favor and stay sane."

He pulled Alessia into his arms, their embrace a cruel mockery of everything I'd lost.

The air felt stifling, my chest tightening with every passing second. I couldn't take it anymore. I scanned the room for an escape and spotted the staircase leading to the upper balcony. Without a word, I made my way there, desperate for solitude.

When I reached the balcony, I gripped the railing and let out a shaky breath. The cool breeze hit my face, calming the storm inside me-if only for a moment. So, this is how it ends.

"Pathetic."

Her voice froze me in place. I turned slowly to see Alessia standing behind me, a smug smile plastered across her face.

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice low but sharp.

"What do I want? Oh, darling, I already have it. Nikolai. His love. His name. Everything that was once yours is mine now."

I clenched the railing tighter. "Congratulations," I said through gritted teeth. "Now, leave me alone."

"But where's the fun in that?" she mocked. "I can't have you sulking around, ruining our perfect moment. You're nothing now, Camila. No husband, no baby, no future. Just... nothing."

Her words cut deep, but I refused to let her see my pain. "You've got what you wanted. Why are you still here?"

"Because you're still here," she hissed, her eyes narrowing. "Nikolai doesn't need you haunting him. Do us all a favor and disappear."

I took a step back, my heart racing. "You're insane."

"And you're in my way," she spat, lunging forward.

I stumbled as her hands shoved against me. My foot caught on the edge of the balcony floor, and I tried to steady myself, but she slipped too. Her scream pierced the air as we both toppled down the staircase.

The impact was brutal. Pain shot through my side, and I gasped for air. My vision blurred as I struggled to sit up. Blood streaked my arm, but I was alive.

Alessia wasn't as lucky. She lay sprawled at the bottom of the staircase, blood pooling beneath her head. Her leg was twisted, and her face contorted in pain.

"Help! Somebody help me!" she wailed, clutching her leg.

The room erupted into chaos. People crowded around, phones flashing, voices rising in panic.

Mrs. Thompson's shrill voice cut through the noise. "What have you done, Camila?!" My stomach dropped. "I-I didn't... She pushed me first!"

Before I could say more, Nikolai appeared, his face like thunder. His cold, piercing eyes locked onto me, and for a second, I couldn't breathe.

"Camila," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "What the hell did you do?"

I shook my head, stumbling to my feet. "She attacked me! She pushed me, Nikolai. You have to believe me!"

He stepped closer, his presence towering over me. "Believe you?" he sneered. "You've done nothing but embarrass me tonight. And now this?!" He gestured to Alessia, who sobbed dramatically in Mrs. Thompson's arms.

"She's lying!" I shouted, desperation clawing at my throat.

"You disgust me," he spat, his voice venomous. "Get out of my sight, Camila. You've done enough damage."

My breath hitched as his words tore into me, each one sharper than the last.

He stepped closer, towering over me with cold, piercing eyes. "All these years, do you really think I ever loved you? You were nothing but a placeholder, a weak substitute for someone I lost. You reminded me of her, but that's all you ever were-a pale, pathetic shadow. I tolerated you, Camila. Nothing more."

"What? What do you mean Nik... please you have to believe me!!...I didn't push her. Look I'm bleeding too,"

"I don't care!!...You can die for all I care!"

He turned away as though I wasn't even worth his gaze, his next words cutting through me like a blade. "You should pack your things and leave. There's no place for you in my life anymore. There never really was."

The air left my lungs. I stood frozen, barely hearing the gasps of the crowd around us.

Without another word, Nikolai walked toward Alessia, crouching beside her as she clung to him like a lifeline. I watched as he comforted her, his hand brushing her hair back with a tenderness he had never shown me.

I tried to stand but Mrs. Thompson stood in my way.

"No, no... The cops are here and you're paying for behaving like an animal!" She hissed, and I exhaled deeply, letting go of everything.

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Just as I took a step toward the door, trying to leave.

"Don't you dare leave, Camilla," a voice I didn't recognize said, icy and dangerous.

I froze. And then I saw him-standing in the doorway, his eyes cold and calculating. The room went dead silent. My heart pounded, my blood turning to ice.

Nikolai, Alessia, Mrs. Thompson-they were all moments away from walking out of my life. But this man... This man was someone who could destroy everything.

And he wasn't here by accident.

CHAPTER 3

Camilla Moretti;

"Delrico..." I mumbled softly, but as he walked in, the sound of heavy footsteps followed-the cops.

"Delrico... You're here!" Mrs. Thompson beamed, rushing to embrace her brother. A quick glance from her made it clear this wasn't just a familial reunion. Delrico was more than an ordinary relative.

Delrico... I had crossed paths with him before my marriage to Nikolai. His name brought with it a rush of memories, none of which I had ever wanted to remember. His sharp eyes immediately found mine, his gaze piercing, cold. "Why are the cops here?" His voice was steady, but there was a hidden weight in his words, an underlying meaning that made me shift uneasily under his stare.

The air grew heavy as Delrico's eyes scanned me-intensely, with a flicker of recognition. But what had he seen?

"It's a small matter," Mrs. Thompson chimed in quickly, dismissing the situation with a wave of her hand. "She caused a scene, and we thought it best to handle it before it got out of control."

"A scene?" Delrico's gaze didn't waver from me as he took a step closer. "What exactly did she do?"

"She attacked Nikolai's finance" Mrs. Thompson cried, her hand flying to her chest as though reliving the horror of her fabricated story.

"She's hurt too," he said, his tone dropping lower.

"This isn't necessary, Delrico," Mrs. Thompson began, her tone shifting to nervous.

"I decide what's necessary." He didn't even spare her a glance. Instead, he turned to the officers.

"Take the cuffs off."

"But Mr. Delrico, she-"

"I said, take them off." His voice carried the kind of authority that didn't allow for arguments.

One of the officers stepped forward reluctantly, removing the cold steel from my wrists. The skin there throbbed, raw and red, but I refused to let them see my pain.

Delrico moved toward me again, his hand hovering slightly as though debating whether to touch me. "Are you okay-"

"Don't!" I snapped, slapping his hand away before he could finish the question. My voice was steady, but my chest burned with humiliation and anger. "I don't need your pity."

I straightened, forcing myself to stand tall despite the sharp pain shooting through my leg. My gaze swept the room-Mrs. Thompson's smug expression faltered, the cops looked uncomfortable, and Delrico... he just stared, unreadable as always.

"You'll all regret this," I said, my voice low but deliberate. "Every single one of you."

With as much dignity as I could muster, I dragged myself toward the door. Each step was agony, but I refused to falter.

Once outside, I leaned against a wall, breathing hard as the cool air bit at my skin. My fingers dug into my bag, pulling out the divorce papers I had carried hoping that this wouldn't happen.

For a brief moment, I hesitated, the pen hovering over the line. Then, with a sharp breath, I scrawled my signature, sealing the deal.

This wasn't the end. It was only the beginning.

Sliding the papers back into my bag, I flagged down a cab, my resolve hardening with every passing second.

The cab pulled over at the address I gave him. I handed the driver a few bills, my hands trembling, and stepped out, dragging my aching legs toward the hospital entrance.

The automatic doors slid open, and the smell of antiseptic hit me instantly. The receptionist barely glanced at me before calling for a nurse, her eyes flicking to the blood on my arm.

"Ma'am, follow me," a young nurse said, her voice calm but efficient.

I was led into a small treatment room, where I sank into the chair with relief. My body felt heavier than ever, every ache and sting amplified now that I'd stopped moving.

The nurse worked quickly, cleaning the cuts on my arm and wrapping a bandage around it. But the deeper pain wasn't something a bandage could fix.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her tone soft now.

I opened my mouth, but the words got stuck. Instead, I pressed a hand to my stomach as a sharp pain shot through me. "No... my stomach... it hurts," I finally managed, my voice shaking.

The nurse's expression changed immediately. "Stay here," she said, her voice firm now. "I'm getting a doctor."

Minutes later, a middle-aged man in a white coat hurried into the room. His badge read Dr. Maxwell. He crouched beside me, his hands gentle but firm as he examined my abdomen.

"What kind of pain is it?" he asked.

"Sharp... like stabbing," I said through gritted teeth.

He frowned. "We need to do an ultrasound immediately. Nurse, get the portable scanner."

The room buzzed with movement as the nurse returned with the equipment. The doctor smeared cold gel onto my lower stomach, and the sound of the machine filled the silence.

I stared at the ceiling, my heart pounding. My entire body felt like it was on the edge of something I couldn't explain.

An hour later, I was lying in a private room, the gel still sticky on my skin. Dr. Maxwell returned, his face serious but not panicked.

"You're pregnant," he said gently, his words hanging in the air. I blinked, my mind reeling. Pregnant?

"But there's more," he continued. "It seems like your body was preparing for a miscarriage. We caught it just in time. The baby is safe, but you'll need to take it easy for a while."

"What... what do you mean?" My voice cracked as I spoke.

Dr. Maxwell sat down beside me, his voice steady but kind. "I need you to be honest with me. Did something happen? A fall? Stress?"

I swallowed hard, the memory of the struggle flashing in my mind. "I fell... earlier today," I whispered.

His eyes narrowed slightly. "That explains it. You're lucky you came in quickly. Stress and physical strain can lead to complications, but the baby is stable now."

My hand instinctively moved to my stomach, a mix of emotions flooding through me-fear, confusion, and a strange, unexpected protectiveness.

"I'll prescribe some medication and bed rest," Dr. Maxwell said. "But most importantly, avoid stress at all costs. The next time could be worse."

I nodded numbly, his words sinking in like stones. My life had already been spiraling out of control, and now, this.

As the doctor left, I leaned back against the pillow, staring blankly at the ceiling. A baby.

Not Nikolai's baby, I reminded myself bitterly. But it was mine.

And no matter what, I wasn't going to lose it.