The Billionaire's Ex-wife is a Brilliant Lawyer

*Bella's POV *

"Turn slowly, Bella. I want to see the back of the dress again."

My mother's voice trembled somewhere between awe and pride.. I lifted my chin, letting the ivory silk whisper across the floor as I pivoted before the full-length mirror. The light caught the delicate beadwork along my spine, scattering tiny flecks like early morning dew.

Sophie flopped onto the plush chair by the window, chin propped on her hand, eyes wide. "You look like... like a queen about to conquer an empire. Oh, goodness! You are stunning."

I laughed, a soft sound I didn't realize had been held in my chest. My palms smoothed over the fitted bodice over the faint, perfect tension of the fabric against me. "Stop exaggerating."

"I'm not exaggerating!" Sophie leaned forward, the tip of her sneaker brushing the hem of my dress. "Alex is going to faint when he sees you walking down the aisle. Someone better have smelling salts ready."

I caught my own reflection, flushed cheeks, wide eyes, a smile I didn't even know could stretch so freely. The weight of my mother's words pressed in.

"Three months," I echoed softly, letting the words linger on my tongue. Almost tasting them.

The seamstress moved behind me, nimble fingers tugging at pins, smoothing the train, whispering to herself in soft syllables only she could hear. "Almost perfect. Just a few more adjustments and we are good to go."

I hardly heard her. My mind wandered, painting the scene I longed for: Alex's dark eyes, the way they lit up when I teased him, the rumble of his laugh rolling low in his chest. The memory made my chest ache sweetly, a mixture of anticipation and something deeper, something that had been simmering quietly for years.

"Do you think he'll cry?" Sophie asked, snapping me from my thoughts.

I blinked. "Who? Alex?"

"Of course! Big, tough CEO reduced to tears in front of everyone. Now that's a sight I'd pay to see."

I laughed, hiding my mouth behind my hand. "I don't think so. He doesn't... You know, cry. Why would he?"

Mother's hands smoothed my veil, lingering on the delicate lace along my shoulders. "Even the strongest men cry when they realize they've found the love of their life. Don't you know?"

I pressed my lips together, unsure if my throat had tightened. My hand went unconsciously to the fabric at my waist, as if I could steady the fluttering inside me.

My phone buzzed on the chair next to Sophie. She snatched it up with a flourish, eyes sparkling, and raised a brow. "Speaking of love... guess who?"

My heartbeat stuttered. "Alex?"

"Of course. Your husband-to-be," she said, grinning wickedly, passing it over.

I lifted it, the familiar weight warm against my palm, and pressed it to my ear. "Hello, handsome. How are you?"

His voice came through, deep, threaded with exhaustion, but still comforting. "Hello, beautiful. I'm good. How's the fitting going?"

"Perfect," I said, soft, almost reverent. "The dress... It's everything I dreamed. I love it."

"Good," he murmured, and I could hear him exhale, the faint creak of his office chair. "You deserve everything you've ever dreamed of."

I felt a tremor along my spine, that familiar warmth that always settled there when he spoke to me this way. Mother pretended not to eavesdrop, but Sophie leaned closer, shamelessly straining to catch every word. I turned slightly, laughing under my breath, letting the line become a private world.

"Are you coming home soon?" I asked, careful to sound casual.

"I wish," he admitted, the weariness threading his tone making my chest tighten. "I'm still tied up at the office. Long day... endless meetings. But I'll make it up to you tonight. I promise."

I tilted my head, teasing. "Better keep that promise, Alex. A girl can only wait so long."

He chuckled, low and rich. "Trust me, I wouldn't dare break it. I'll be home late, but I'll be there. You'll be the last thing I see before I fall asleep."

My throat tightened, a sudden prickle of tears at the corner of my eyes. "I'll hold you to it."

"I love you, Bella."

I closed my eyes, letting the words coat me like a warm blanket. "I love you too."

For a moment, the line went quiet, heavy with the unspoken, neither of us wanting to break the fragile connection.

Finally, he sighed. "I have to run... but remember. No one is allowed to outshine my bride."

"As if they could," I teased, voice catching on the edge of laughter.

He chuckled again, and then the line went dead.

When I turned back, Sophie smirked. "Well, wasn't that disgustingly sweet?"

I tossed a handkerchief at her. "Shut up. Must you comment?"

Mother shook her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You two really are in love. I can hear it in your voices."

I sank into the chair beside Sophie, letting the dress slide around me. The seamstress returned with her measuring tape, the faint scent of starch and lavender clinging to her apron. "One last pin at the waist, dear."

I stood again, hands lingering over the fabric at my waist, imagining Alex's hand there instead. The thought made my stomach flutter in ways both tender and sharp.

"You're glowing, Bella," Mother said softly, almost reverent.

"I feel like I am," I admitted. "I can't wait to be his wife."

Sophie leaned back, fingers drumming lightly on the armrest. "And I can't wait to catch the bouquet. Just saying."

I rolled my eyes, laughing, feeling the warmth in my chest expand. "You'll have to fight the others for it."

"Please," she scoffed, flicking her hair dramatically. "It's practically already mine."

We all laughed, the sound filling the small fitting room, chasing away the sterile quiet. The ivory silk of my gown shimmered in the light, but it wasn't just the fabric. It was the joy radiating through me, the way my chest seemed to stretch impossibly wide, like it could hold all the hope and love in the world.

I sat again, staring at the reflection that had become someone new. Not because of the dress, not because of the veil, but because of the way I shone from the inside out. For the first time, I recognized the woman in the mirror. Strong, untouchable, and utterly human-tangled in anticipation, longing, and that dangerous, delicious certainty of love.

And in that quiet, suspended moment, I believed it. Everything I had dreamed was here. Right in this room. Waiting for me.

The seamstress adjusted the final pin with careful precision, her hands surprisingly gentle. "There. That's it. Perfect."

I let my fingers brush along the silk, tracing the seam, imagining Alex's lips tracing it instead. A shiver ran down my spine.

Mother leaned close, eyes shimmering. "Soon, Bella. Soon you'll walk down that aisle."

I nodded, my pulse echoing her words in my ears. "I can't wait."

Sophie whispered conspiratorially, "And I can't wait to see him when he sees you. He won't know what hit him."

I chuckled, letting the tension ease with the sound of our laughter, but my chest tightened with something tender and overwhelming.

As the sunlight slipped through the window, casting the room in gold, I leaned back, letting it wash over me. My reflection smiled. Not because of what I wore, but because of the life waiting for me-because of him. Alex. My future. My forever.

And for the first time, I didn't feel small. I didn't feel scared. I felt infinite.

Because love had found me, and this day, this dress, this moment... was proof that nothing could take it away.

*Bella's POV *

I rested my chin against my palm, staring blankly at the bridal gowns in the magazine on my lap. Sequins and satin blurred into one glittering haze, and a sharp twist of unease coiled in my stomach. I winced, pressing a hand over it, trying to convince myself it was nothing.

"You're doing that thing again."

I lifted my head. Alex stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest, dark brows drawn together. Even in casual clothes, even with that slight crease in his forehead, he commanded the room. His presence made the air heavier somehow, more urgent.

"What thing?" I asked, forcing a weak laugh.

"Pressing your stomach and pretending you're fine when you're clearly not." He stepped closer, filling the space between us until it felt like the air itself had contracted. He crouched beside me, brushing a strand of hair from my face, and I caught the faint scent of his cologne-warm, woody, and familiar. "Talk to me, Bella."

"It's nothing," I murmured, voice thinner than I intended.

"Bella." The word was low, patient, firm-the kind of tone he always used when he refused to let me hide anything. "Since this morning you've been pale, yawning every five minutes, barely touching your food... and now you wince every time you move. You expect me to believe it's nothing?"

My lips twitched into a ghost of a smile. "Have you been watching me that closely?"

He didn't answer.

"Maybe I just need sleep," I added, trying to adjust my posture to make the ache in my gut feel insignificant.

His brow arched. "You slept in today. Don't make excuses."

"You're bossy. Gosh!" I teased, the words coming out softer than I planned.

"I'm concerned." His hand covered mine, thumb brushing across my knuckles, steadying, grounding. "You're my bride-to-be, Bella. The woman I'm marrying. How can I focus if you're not well?"

A warmth crept into my chest, tangling with the unease that refused to leave. I tried to shrug it off. "You really think it's that serious?"

"I think you're stubborn enough to downplay it." His gaze didn't waver. The kind of gaze that made it impossible to argue. "Go to the doctor. Just for peace of mind. For me."

I sighed, letting the corners of my mouth twitch. "Alright. I'll go."

A smile tugged at his lips. He leaned forward, pressing a brief kiss to my forehead. "Good girl."

I rolled my eyes, a laugh bubbling up, weak but genuine. "So when are you back tonight? We still have cake samples waiting."

His hesitation made my chest clench. He drew in a breath, careful, deliberate. "Ah... Bella," he began slowly, "I meant to tell you earlier but... I have to travel. Four days, maybe five. The Singapore branch is facing a crisis, and the board needs me there."

My stomach dropped. "Four days? And you're just telling me?"

"I know. I'm sorry." His exhale was heavy. "I hate leaving now, especially with the wedding so close, but this can't wait. If I don't go, things could go wrong."

I tried to mask my disappointment, but my eyes gave me away. "You promised we'd slow down before the wedding."

"I remember," he said softly, thumb brushing against my cheek. "And I'll make it up to you the moment I'm back. You have my word."

"Your words should include cake tasting and flower picking."

His grin was brief, boyish, the one that always made my heart tilt. "It includes anything you want," he said. "As long as you promise to see a doctor."

I leaned into the touch. "Fine. But only because you won't stop nagging otherwise."

"Exactly," he said, standing and slipping on his jacket. "Nagging is part of my charm."

I shook my head, laughing softly as he bent down to kiss me. "Stay safe," I whispered against his lips.

"I'll call every night," he promised, lingering before stepping back. "And when I come back, you'll tell me you've been resting. Deal?"

"Deal."

He left with a final wave, and the quiet that followed felt heavier than I expected. My hand drifted unconsciously to my stomach again, pressing gently as though I could soothe the uncertainty coiled there. Something about the ache... it wasn't just exhaustion.

------

At the clinic, my foot tapped nervously against the tiled floor. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, and the sterile scent of antiseptic seemed sharp against my skin. The doctor skimmed my file, then looked up with a gentle smile.

"Mrs. Bella," he began.

I corrected softly, "Miss."

"Sorry. Miss Bella," he said, flipping the papers. "Your tests are back."

My chest tightened. "And?"

"Congratulations. You're pregnant."

The words hung in the air, surreal, like sunlight catching on ripples of water. My lips parted, hand flying to my mouth as a laugh slipped out-soft, incredulous, shaky. "Pregnant?"

"Yes," he said, turning the screen toward me. "You're about six weeks along. Everything looks normal. The baby is healthy."

Tears blurred my vision, warm and unstoppable, slipping down my cheeks before I could stop them. Laughter mingled with tears, a strange, beautiful mixture. "I'm... I'm going to be a mother."

The doctor's smile softened. "Yes. You look happy about it."

"I am," I whispered, pressing my palms to my middle, as if I could hold the life growing there in my hands. "More than happy. I can't wait to tell him."

My mind leaped to Alex-his dark eyes widening, the steadying weight of his hand on my stomach, pride and love radiating off him in waves. He had always wanted children someday. This was it. That "someday" had arrived early.

"Take care of yourself," the doctor said. "Eat well, rest plenty. You'll need it."

"I will," I said, voice firm, smile radiant, as though saying it made it real.

Walking out of the hospital, clutching the test results against my chest like the most precious thing in the world, the air outside felt sharper, brighter. Every step seemed lighter. The city sounds crisper, as though the universe itself had shifted for me.

Pulling out my phone, I typed quickly. Doctor's visit done. Nothing serious. I just need some rest.

Almost immediately, his reply came: Good. I'm boarding now. Call you tonight.

I stared at the screen, my secret bubbling inside, fizzing like champagne, ready to spill. Not tonight, I decided. I wanted to see him, to watch the moment his entire world changed.

Smiling through tears, I didn't bother wiping away, I whispered, "Tomorrow, Alex. Tomorrow I'll tell you."

Tomorrow would be the beginning of forever.

*Bella's POV*

The world had felt lighter that morning.

Sunlight spilled through the curtains, soft and golden, painting the walls in gentle warmth. For the first time in weeks, I woke with more than hope. The test results were tucked neatly in my purse, a secret too precious to speak aloud.

Every time I imagined Alex's face when I told him, my chest fluttered. He'd grin that boyish grin, the one that crinkled the corners of his eyes. Maybe he'd pull me into his arms and whisper, We're going to be parents, like it was the only truth that mattered.

Our life was supposed to begin now. Not three months from the wedding. Not someday.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I smiled before even looking, expecting his name, expecting him. But it wasn't him.

It was Clara.

I frowned, thumb hesitating over the screen.

"Bella, I don't know how to say this... I'm so sorry."

And then a link. I tapped it. A photo opened.

For a moment, I didn't understand what I was seeing. A man in a dark tuxedo, standing beneath an arch of white roses. A woman beside him, veiled in lace. Guests laughing, petals flying.

Then my eyes found him. Alex. My Alex. Smiling and sliding a ring onto another woman's finger.

My breath snagged somewhere deep in my chest.

"No," I whispered. "No, this isn't...."

My phone buzzed again. Another image. Then, a video. His voice came through, steady, solemn.

"I take you to be my wife..."

The phone slipped from my hand, clattering against the hardwood floor.

"No," I gasped, backing away as if the sound could burn me. "No, no, no..."

My stomach lurched. I stumbled toward the sink, gripping the counter, choking on air.

A soft knock came through.

"Bella?" My mother's voice trembled slightly from the doorway. "Sweetheart, what's going on?"

I couldn't answer. My pulse roared in my ears, a storm of disbelief and pain.

My mom stepped inside, laundry basket in hand, and froze.

"Bella?"

I turned slowly, tears streaming freely now. "He..." I pointed to the fallen phone. "He got married, Mum. He married someone else."

For a second, my mom just stared. Then she set the basket down carefully, like the world might shatter if she moved too fast. She crossed the room, picked up the phone, and looked.

Her face tightened. "What? When?"

"Today," I whispered, voice breaking. "He said he was traveling. He said it was a business trip. I believed him."

"Oh, my baby..." She gathered me into her arms, and I clung to her blouse like a child, trembling. "How could he?" she asked fiercely. "How could he do this to you?"

I shook my head against her shoulder. "I was going to tell him. About the baby." My voice cracked. "I was so happy, Mum. I thought..."

My mom stiffened, pulling back slightly. "The baby?"

I nodded, tears spilling again. "I found out yesterday. I was waiting for the right moment."

Her breath hitched. "Oh, Bella..."

The bedroom door banged open. Sophie appeared, phone in hand, eyes wide. "What's happening? Why are people posting Alex's wedding photos? Tell me it's fake."

I said nothing. My silence was enough. Sophie looked from me to our mother, then back.

"That bastard," she whispered. Louder and furious. "That bastard!"

"Please," I sobbed. "Don't..."

"No, I will. He proposed to you, Bella. You were planning a wedding. And now he's...." Sophie's hands trembled as she scrolled through the images. "He didn't even tell you? Didn't even warn you?"

I covered my mouth to quiet my sobs. "I thought he loved me."

Sophie sank onto the edge of the bed, running a trembling hand through her hair. "He's trash. Absolute trash. God, I want to hurt him."

My mom sat beside me, cupping my face. "Listen to me, sweetheart. This child-this isn't his redemption. It's yours. Do you understand?"

I blinked through the tears.

Her voice softened, but there was steel beneath it. "You will not crawl back to him. You will not let this define you. You will stand, Bella. You will raise your baby with dignity. With strength. That's how you win."

I pressed a trembling hand against my stomach. Something inside me depended on me now. Pain mingled with purpose.

Sophie leaned closer. "We'll help you. Whatever you need, Bells. We'll get through this together."

I couldn't speak. I only stare at the phone, still glowing faintly on the table. Alex's smile, frozen in that perfect wedding moment, felt like a knife I'd never stop feeling.

I rose unsteadily and walked to the dresser. The engagement ring slid off my finger, cold and unyielding. I set it down gently, reverently, beside a photo of the two of us from happier days, then turned the frame face down.

"I'm done," I whispered.

My mom wrapped me again, holding me close. "Let this be the last night you cry for him," she murmured.

I nodded faintly. Tears kept coming, softly, silently, and unstoppable.

Hours later, long after my mother and sister had gone to bed, I lay awake. The city hummed quietly outside my window, lights twinkling like indifferent stars.

My phone lit up. A new message from him.

Sorry, I couldn't call. Busy day. We'll talk soon. Promise.

My thumb hovered over the screen. Then I deleted it.

The word "promise" made my chest ache.

I whispered it to myself, tasting the lie. "You already broke it."

Turning on my side, I cradled my stomach, whispering to the child who would never know him.

"It's just you and me now," I breathed. "And I swear, I'll never let anyone break us again."

The night stayed still around me. Deep inside, something changed, a faint trace of strength, enough to survive.

Since the moment my world had shattered, I closed my eyes and let myself imagine survival.