MY EVIL EX-LOVER

EDWARD FOSTER'S POV

"I can't do this, never!" I exclaimed, rising from my seat, the weight of the decision heavy on my shoulders.

"What can't you do? What's the big deal?" Elliot asked casually, taking a sip from his drink.

"This contract holds the key to everything. If you truly want it," he continued, a cunning smile playing on his lips.

"I can't sell away such a precious gift, not for money, not ever." I muttered silently, stealing a glance at my daughter through the office window.

I could imagine her confusion, wondering why it was taking me so long to make up my mind and sign the agreement.

"You're just a marketing company, not a force for good," I retorted, grabbing my bag as I prepared to make my exit.

"Remember, we're not just a marketing company. We are your only lifeline now. Without us, well, you know what awaits you. Give me a call when you're ready," Elliot said, his voice dripping with a veiled threat. I left his office, my mind consumed by turmoil.

"Dad! How did it go?" Cardy inquired, following me to the car. But I couldn't bring myself to divulge any details.

Sitting in the car, I awaited Cardy's arrival, silently contemplating the weight of the choice before me. She entered, her curiosity brimming over, desperate for answers.

"I can't sign that contract; it demands something I simply cannot give," I confessed, my voice heavy with resignation.

"Dad, talk to me. I'm an adult, and I came here as your manager," Cardy pleaded, her curiosity growing more intense.

But I couldn't bear to involve her in the darkness that loomed ahead. It was a burden I felt compelled to shoulder alone.

Sensing my somber mood, she offered to take the wheel, urging me to let her drive us home. With concern etched on her face, she worried about the toll this decision was taking on me. I tried to reassure her, insisting that she need not burden herself.

As we began our journey home, with the weight of the world pressing down on me, I couldn't help but wonder how far I was willing to go to protect what truly mattered to me. The contract loomed large in my thoughts, like a shadow creeping closer with every passing moment.

As we stepped foot into our home, a haunting echo reverberated through my mind, carrying the weight of Elliot's words: "Remember, we are not just a marketing company; we are your only lifeline. Without us..." Throughout the day, these words continued to play on repeat in my head like an unrelenting melody.

Deep down, I knew that even if I chose to conceal the truth from my beloved daughter, she would inevitably discover it. Contemplating this, I found myself standing before her bedroom door, hesitating yet resolute.

I knocked, anticipating her warm voice to break the silence and invite me in. However, there was no response. Puzzled, I knocked again, hoping to elicit any sign of her presence. It was unlike her to be so unresponsive. Something was amiss.

Even if she was immersed in the embrace of sleep, my persistent knocks should have stirred her awake. Growing increasingly concerned, I struck the door once more, this time with greater force. Finally, it swung open, revealing my daughter standing there with an air of urgency.

"Dad... What's happened to you?" She inquired, her eyes searching mine for answers, as we entered her room together.

I couldn't help but wonder aloud, "Why did it take you so long to open the door?" In response, she explained that the weariness from her earlier encounter in Elliot's office had weighed her down, causing an unexpected delay.

Summoning all my courage, I uttered the words that held the power to alter her world: "The contract stipulates that you must marry Elliot." Her reaction was immediate; her dormant energy awakened in an instant.

"Marry who? That arrogant and ill-mannered individual? Dad, you know I simply can't do that," she declared vehemently, her resolve echoing through her every word. And in that moment, I comprehended the depth of her objections and sympathized with her completely.

I made a solemn promise to her, ensuring that under no circumstances would she ever become Elliott's bride-not as long as the breath flowed through my lungs.

"Darling, we shall seek an alternative path," I assured her, yearning to witness a glimmer of happiness illuminate her face.

"Indeed, Father, we must find another solution, for this present predicament is utterly untenable," she responded as I rose from my seat, parched and in need of a glass of water.

However, her words persisted, fueling an inner flame of anger within me.

"But this is not my doing. Why do you cast blame on me as though I were the architect of this ill-fated agreement?" I retorted with frustration before storming out of her chamber.

The following day, as I arrived at my company, a wave of despondency washed over me when I glimpsed the disheartening sales report. Matters were spiraling downward far more rapidly than anticipated.

Noon approached, and Cardy remained conspicuously absent from the office. I attempted to reach her by phone, but she stubbornly refused to answer.

"Should I implore her to fulfill her part in this scheme? I cannot bear to witness the demise of this company; my very survival hinges upon it." I ruminated silently in pain, but I didn't want it to take me down.

"Perhaps I should offer her a substantial sum of money, a monthly remuneration, in exchange for her acceptance of the marriage proposal," I continued to muse aloud, although deep down, I acknowledged the futility of such a proposal. It was a mere figment of my imagination, for I knew she would never agree to such terms.

"Let me return home and engage her in a conversation regarding this matter," I resolved, gathering my belongings and departing from the office.

As I stepped through the front door, my eyes immediately caught sight of Cardy, engrossed in her laptop. An intriguing thought crossed my mind-perhaps she had opted to work remotely today. Quietly approaching her, I couldn't help but wonder why she had chosen to stay home instead of heading to the office like she usually did. As I posed the question, a heavy silence hung in the air, stretching on for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, Cardy broke her silence, her words striking me like a bolt of lightning. "I've made up my mind. I no longer wish to work for your company. I want to explore other opportunities elsewhere," she confessed, her voice filled with determination.

In an instant, it felt as if the weight of the world was crashing down upon me. My legs gave way beneath me, and I crumbled to the floor, utterly overwhelmed by the news. The sounds around me became muffled, distant echoes, as if I had been transported to another realm. I could hear Cardy calling out to me, her voice filled with concern, urgently summoning the nanny for assistance.

Time passed, and eventually I regained consciousness, finding myself back in my bed. Cardy sat by my side, a mixture of relief and worry etched across her face. "Dad, you're awake! Thank God!" she exclaimed, a glimmer of hope dancing in her eyes. Tenderly, she presented me with my dinner and medication, caring for me in my time of need.

In this moment of vulnerability and connection, Cardy seized the opportunity to address a question that had long lingered in her mind. "Dad, why have you never told me about my mother?" she asked, her voice filled with both curiosity and a touch of sadness. This time, I was determined to share the truth with her and unveil the reason behind my unwavering commitment to keeping our company afloat.

"She left," I began, my voice heavy with the weight of past sorrow. "She left us right after giving birth to you." Before I could continue, Cardy interjected, a mixture of confusion and anguish in her voice. "Why did she leave you? What did you do to her?" Her questions cut through me like a knife, reopening old wounds.

I recounted the fateful day when I returned home from work to discover a note from her mother. In that letter, she expressed her desire to chase her dreams and promised to return with wealth. However, time had passed, and there had been no trace of her since. The years slipped away, and as Cardy stood before me at twenty-four years old, it seemed increasingly unlikely that her mother was still alive. The reality of this truth brought forth a deluge of tears from my eyes, a mixture of grief and heartache pouring forth.

In the midst of an intense moment, I seized the opportunity to pour out my thoughts to her. I spoke softly but urgently, knowing the weight of my words.

"Darling, I believe you should seriously consider marrying Elliot. Our company's sales are plummeting with each passing day," I began, but before I could finish, she interrupted me, her voice filled with disbelief.

"What? Dad, are you actually saying this to me right now?" She rose from the bed, ready to leave, but I couldn't let her slip away just yet. I reached out and gently grasped her hand, pleading with her.

"Please, my angel, don't do this to me! I'm willing to pay you an additional $20,000 each month, on top of your regular salary." I made the offer, hoping it would sway her decision.

"Dad, no amount of money will make me sacrifice my dignity for that disrespectful CEO of Hudson Group. That's my final word," she responded firmly, determination etched in her voice. But I couldn't give up. The future of my company was hanging in the balance, and I couldn't bear the thought of her and her children enduring the same hardships her mother and I had faced.

"Are you willing to do this for the sake of your father and future generations?" I pleaded, desperation creeping into my words. My heart ached, torn between my love for my daughter and the survival of the empire I had built.

The room fell silent as we locked eyes, each of us holding our ground. The weight of the decision hung heavy in the air, and I wondered what path she would ultimately choose. Would she sacrifice her own happiness for the sake of her family's legacy? Or would she stand firm, refusing to compromise?

CARDY FOSTER'S POV

As I stood there, contemplating the situation, a torrent of thoughts swirled in my mind. Was my father truly expecting me to embrace this? Could I bring myself to accept it? But then, a haunting question arose: what if I refused, and the consequences turned dire? The weight of the choice pressed upon me, urging me to make a decision.

I gazed at him, my father, his face reflecting a mix of concern and hope. I took a deep breath, my countenance showing my internal struggle, and resigned myself to a difficult path-a path that could potentially save his life. I knew deep within that I possessed the strength and determination to forge my own destiny, for the sake of future generations.

"Dad, I can't go through with this," I managed to utter, my voice trailing off as he interjected, desperate to hear my reasoning.

"Please, my dear, don't say that," he pleaded, his eyes brimming with worry.

"Dad, please, let me explain. This isn't about money or personal gain. It's about preserving your presence in my life. I can't bear the thought of losing you," I revealed, the weight of my words lifting the burden from my heart. His face instantly lit up, overwhelmed with joy.

He drew me close, enveloping me in a warm embrace, as if the act itself could shield us from the hardships that lay ahead.

"Tomorrow morning, we will visit Elliot's office," he announced, his voice filled with determination. I nodded in agreement, silently acknowledging the gravity of the decision we were about to make. With that, I left his room, setting forth on a path that held both uncertainty and possibility.

Making my way to the nanny, I instructed her to check on my father later, ensuring his surroundings were tidy and clean. As I spoke the words, a sense of doubt lingered in my mind. Had I truly made the right choice? I couldn't afford for this decision to have a detrimental impact on my own life. The unknown future loomed ahead, echoing my concerns.

Late into the night, I found myself alone with my thoughts. "Have I chosen wisely?" I whispered, the words lingering in the quiet room. The weight of responsibility bore down upon me, urging me to find solace in the darkness. Eventually, exhaustion overcame me, and sleep finally claimed my weary mind.

In the realm of dreams, my subconscious wrestled with the implications of my decision. Uncertainty and determination danced hand in hand, painting a vivid landscape of what lay ahead. As dawn broke, I awoke with a renewed sense of purpose, ready to face the challenges and embrace the unknown.

"Good morning, my angel," my father's voice rang out like a sweet melody, stirring me from my slumber. Hastily, I roused myself and prepared for the day ahead.

Upon arriving at Elliot's office, we discovered an empty seat. My father had contacted him the previous night to inform him of our visit, yet he was nowhere to be found. Despite our frustration, we had no other recourse but to wait patiently.

"Dad, why are we limited to this one marketing company?" I inquired, seeking answers. His smile was gentle as he responded, unraveling the mystery for me.

"This is the largest and most capable marketing company. They are the only ones equipped to handle our current predicament. If there were other viable options, I would have explored them," he explained, his words resonating with understanding.

I couldn't help but fret about the looming presence of that unbearable person in our home, but the circumstances left me with no alternative. I resigned myself to the inevitable.

"Get those files to my office immediately!" bellowed the voice of the monster as he entered the workplace. Without acknowledging our presence, he strode past us, ignoring my father's attempted greeting. It was a disheartening sight.

"He must have had a rough night," my father mused optimistically, attempting to rationalize the behavior. However, I couldn't bring myself to agree.

"A rough night that would cause him to forget his clients? His rudeness and arrogance are unfathomable," I retorted, irritation tainting my words. In that moment, his personal assistant appeared before us, beckoning us to follow.

As we trailed behind the assistant, a blend of anticipation and apprehension filled the air. What would await us within those office walls? What challenges and obstacles lay ahead? Uncertainty hung like a heavy mist, obscuring the path we were about to tread.

Beyond those office doors lay a world of possibilities and risks. The stage was set, and the players were in position. The symphony of life was about to crescendo, orchestrating a dance of intricate maneuvers and unforeseen revelations.

As we stepped into the lion's den, the enigma of Elliot and his realm unfurled before our eyes. The path to success would be arduous, fraught with challenges, and punctuated by encounters both awe-inspiring and disheartening.

"We are prepared to sign the contract," my father confidently declared, breaking the silence that hung in the room. Seated across from us, Elliot's eyes bore into mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. I felt powerless, unable to voice my true feelings. So, I maintained a facade of deafness and muteness, concealing the storm raging within me.

For a brief moment, Elliot remained silent, his attention fixated on his laptop screen. The suspense was unbearable, as if he held the key to my future in his hands. Finally, he broke the silence, his words dripping with an irritating arrogance. "Very well, let's set the wedding date, and she shall stay with me until that day arrives." His demand struck me like a blow, but I knew better than to protest. My father's wishes outweighed my own desires.

"Fine, the wedding will take place next weekend, with the court ceremony scheduled for this weekend," my father agreed, sealing my fate with a few simple words. I mustered a pitiful glance at my father, hoping he would sense my silent plea for mercy. Yet, deep down, I had already resigned myself to this predetermined path. There was no turning back now.

With the agreement settled, we rose from our seats and departed the office. As we made our way towards the car, I couldn't contain my frustration any longer. "Dad, you didn't even bother to ask for my opinion. You've decided everything on my behalf," I protested, my voice tinged with desperation.

"Please, my dear, remain calm. Everything will work out," my father reassured me, but his words fell short of offering solace. It wasn't the reassurance I craved; I longed for my voice to be heard and my choices to matter.

"Even staying at his place until next weekend, is that supposed to be 'fine' too?" I implored, hoping to elicit a shred of empathy from him. His gaze met mine, and a smile played upon his lips. "I have a plan," he said cryptically, withholding the details. He urged me to trust him and promised that we would emerge victorious. I conceded, placing my faith in his intellect and cunning. However, the thought of spending even a moment in that wretched man's company until the wedding weighed heavily on my mind.

The days ahead seemed ominous, but my father's mysterious plan gave me a flicker of hope.

After our court wedding, my father wasted no time in diving headfirst into preparations for the grand ceremony. It was as if he had been eagerly waiting for this moment all his life, and now that it had arrived, he was determined to make it an unforgettable event.

Meanwhile, the few days I spent at Elliot's place were nothing short of a nightmare. I found myself trapped in a suffocating atmosphere, devoid of any excitement or meaningful conversation. Elliot's words revolved solely around physical intimacy, leaving me feeling empty and craving a deeper connection.

"Why did he even want to marry me?" I pondered silently, desperately seeking an answer that seemed to elude me at every turn. The question echoed relentlessly in the corridors of my mind, but the silence offered no solace, no resolution.

Confronting Elliot about my concerns became an increasingly tempting notion. Yet, a lurking fear cautioned against such a move, warning me of the potential consequences that could spiral out of control. My thoughts inevitably shifted to my father, whose happiness and well-being remained my paramount concern.

One evening, as Elliot returned from work, he casually dropped a bombshell that shattered the fragile peace that had somehow settled between us. "Let's change the wedding date and have it next tomorrow," he declared, his voice devoid of any consideration for my feelings.

"Next tomorrow? Why the sudden urgency?"

CARDY FOSTER'S POV

I dialled my father's number, urgency tingling in my fingertips. Elliot's words needed to be relayed, their weight pressing on my conscience. Little did I know, my father was already aware, informed by Elliot himself, though reasons remained elusive.

Cornered by this unexpected revelation, I had no alternative but to embrace its truth. My father possessed knowledge beyond my reach, leaving me with no room to contest the matter.

Elliot emerged, his voice laced with a biting cruelty that chilled me to the core. "Never again," he seethed, "dare to engage in argument with me. Your autonomy is forfeit. I wield control over you, free to exercise my whims as I please."

Defiance surged within me, compelling me to refute his claim. "You do not, and never will, own me," I mustered the courage to declare. In response, he forcefully pulled me from my seat, pinning me against the unyielding wall.

"Never entertain the notion of challenging me again, let alone voicing it aloud," he hissed, his grip tightening as tremors overtook my trembling form. The fear of what he might do consumed me, coercing me into silence, lest he strangle the life from my fragile frame.

Finally, he released his grasp, his body collapsing to the floor. Tears beckoned at the corners of my eyes, yet their release was denied. My vision swirled in disarray, as though I had just emerged from a battle with a malevolent monster.

The grand day we had eagerly anticipated had arrived, its arrival catching me unprepared. Fate, however, held sway over my circumstances. As we made our way towards the church, I donned my wedding gown and felt a semblance of royalty.

Inwardly, I lamented, wishing that this auspicious occasion unfolded with the right person by my side. The preparations had been meticulous, fulfilling the desires I had harbored for so long. Alas, destiny dictated that I partake in this sacred union with the wrong individual.

As we arrived at the church, the heavy wooden doors swung open, revealing a sacred sanctuary adorned with delicate flowers and soft candlelight. The atmosphere buzzed with anticipation, and the congregation warmly welcomed our presence. My heart fluttered as my father, a pillar of strength, guided me gracefully towards the ornate altar.

Yet, a peculiar sense of elation washed over me, casting a surreal aura upon the moment. It was as if I had been transported into a parallel universe, where happiness coexisted with an inexplicable uncertainty. Glancing at Elliot, my soon-to-be spouse, I noticed an absence of joy upon his countenance. Not a trace of a smile adorned his lips, nor a flicker of excitement danced in his eyes.

A mischievous thought invaded my mind, intermingling with the wedding jitters. "Why has Elliot never kissed me?" I pondered silently. A whisper of doubt crept in, conjuring vivid imagery of an unpleasant surprise awaiting me. What if his breath was foul, an olfactory assault I would have to endure in front of all our loved ones?

Suppressing these whimsical thoughts, I turned my attention back to my father. A warm smile graced my lips, a gesture of gratitude for his unwavering support. As the ceremony commenced, with the pastor's soothing voice resonating through the sacred space, destiny stood poised to weave its intricate tapestry.

Suddenly, amidst the sacred silence, a thunderous voice reverberated through the speakers, sending shockwaves through the assembled crowd. It was a voice both hauntingly familiar and deeply unsettling, yet I couldn't place its origin.

The doors of the church swung open, admitting a gust of wind and a figure cloaked in darkness. With a microphone clutched tightly in his hand, he strode forward accompanied by a troupe of menacing accomplices. Fear gripped my heart, for in that moment, I beheld the face of my sinister ex-lover.

"I love you, and I will have you back. No one but me is worthy of your hand in marriage," his voice seethed with possessiveness, his words an ominous declaration.

A surge of panic overwhelmed me as I realized the danger lurking within these hallowed walls. Desperate to escape the clutches of impending doom, I leaned towards Elliot, my voice a trembling whisper. "Please, we must flee before he unleashes his wrath upon you or anyone else," I implored.

With unwavering determination, Elliot clasped my hand firmly, pulling me towards an inconspicuous exit behind the altar. The sounds of gunfire erupted, shattering the sanctity of the sacred space, but we were already gone. Our feet pounded against the pavement as we raced through the streets, my billowing bridal gown becoming an unwieldy burden. Tears streamed down my face, borne from a torrent of emotions. How had my joyous day taken such a tragic turn? And what of my father, still trapped within those perilous walls?

"Please, let me go back and rescue my father from that monster," I pleaded, attempting to free my hand from Elliot's grasp. Yet, he held on tightly, unyielding in his resolve.

"I care not for your father; my only concern is what is rightfully mine, and you, my dear, belong to me now," his voice was laced with possessiveness and determination as we continued our desperate flight.

"But the wedding has been cancelled," I protested, hoping reason would penetrate the darkness clouding his judgment. His gaze met mine, filled with a chilling intensity that sent shivers down my spine. We hailed a passing cab and climbed inside, our getaway vehicle hurtling away from the scene of chaos.

I stood there, perplexed and puzzled, my heart weighed down by a tangle of unanswered questions. The words echoed in my mind, resonating with a hint of disbelief. "You asked to marry me but you never showed any sign of liking or intimacy with me. Then why did you want to marry me?" I finally mustered the courage to confront Elliot as we stepped through the threshold of our home, a place that felt unfamiliar and distant.

His weary gaze met mine, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips, carrying with it a mix of exhaustion and resignation. The timbre of his voice resonated deep within me, leaving an indelible mark on my soul. "Better go inside and rid yourself of those burdens you carry," he advised, his words laced with an air of finality. "Wedding or no wedding, our union has already been cemented in the eyes of the law."

He turned away, his suit frayed at the edges, bearing witness to battles fought, wounds endured. It was as though he had weathered a storm, a lone warrior standing tall against a relentless onslaught. The evidence of his struggles adorned his tattered attire, speaking volumes about the strength that lay beneath.

Interrupted by the sudden intrusion of another matter, a call came in, breaking the fragile tension that hung in the air.

"Hello! Your father is nowhere to be found..."