Too Late To Want Me Back, Ex Husband!

ELARA

"Prepare the divorce papers, Cassius."

My voice came out with a terrifying lack of emotion. Cold even, considering I was sitting there watching, on the high-definition screen of my tablet, my husband of five years having an intense sex romp with my best friend in the middle of his office.

It was an office I had personally decorated with care. In a company I had poured my soul into helping him build.

"El, are you sure?"

I snarled before I could stop the sound from tearing out of my throat, my fingers white-knuckled around the edges of the device. "If you can't do this simple thing for me because he's your best friend, then say it! I'll find another lawyer who actually values my time."

Sometimes, I really didn't understand Cassius. Yes, he was Shawn's best friend, but he was also the only person in this godforsaken city who actually seemed to care a hoot about the neglected housewife I had become.

He knew everything, had seen the scars of Shawn's mistreatment of me, and I was certain he knew about the adulterous part too. Yet here he was, hesitant, asking me if I really wanted a divorce...

Maybe I shouldn't have called him.

A sudden prickle of anxiety crawled up my spine; what if he told that fool of a husband exactly what I was planning before I could strike?

"El... I'm sorry if you misunderstood me," Cassius said, his voice dropping into a careful, soothing register. "You know I've always wanted you to leave this marriage. I just needed to be sure... this isn't the first time you've reached out to me about this, only to turn back."

I shut my eyes tight as a wave of bitter memory attacked me.

My first year of marriage-a time that was supposed to be pure, marital bliss-had been an unmitigated horror. It was nothing like I expected, especially since I had been Shawn's benefactor from the start.

Even if my blind love hadn't secured his care, the fact that I had literally given him a kidney so he could continue to live should have counted for something in his eyes, right?

Wrong.

I had loved Shawn like a devoted puppy since high school, ever since he stepped in and saved the nerdy, quiet girl from a pack of cruel bullies. I followed him like a loyal sheep through university, keeping my head down despite his endless, public flings. When kidney failure struck him, I didn't hesitate; I stepped forward as a donor.

Fortunately, fate took me, or so I thought.

And to crown it all, his grandfather had insisted he marry me once he recovered-declaring to the whole family that no woman could ever be a better wife than the girl who gave him life.

Shawn had agreed to the match without a single fuss. In my naivety, I thought I had finally been blessed by destiny.

You could imagine my shock when, on our wedding night, he treated me like a common slut he had picked up off the street. He didn't slow down for a second when he realized I was a virgin. He left me bleeding, shivering in pain, then stalked off to the next room, cursing under his breath that I had messed up the expensive bed sheets.

But the next day, he apologized profusely. He said he'd been drunk. He brought me expensive flowers. He took me to a lavish dinner.

I was young and desperate, so I thought we were fine.

Six months later, the apologies wore thin and he started keeping late nights.

A year in, he actually slapped me on our anniversary because I dared to question his cold indifference.

Abuse was a dealbreaker for me. No one loved being beaten down, physically or mentally. So, I had called Cassius that very night. I had been packed and ready to leave.

Then Shawn returned with flowers again. More apologies. More empty promises of change. And I-like a pathetic fool-stayed. I even anonymously pitched in my own resources to save the company when he claimed it was on the verge of collapsing.

He never slapped me again.

But he never loved me either.

With every passing year, the man turned to ice. He stayed around me only out of a sense of grim duty to his grandfather's wishes.

I would have endured it all, I realized with a shudder-if not for the video I was watching right now.

"El..."

I exhaled a long, shaky breath, dragging myself back to the grim reality of the present. "Yes. I'm serious, Cassius. This time, I really am. There is no turning back."

"Okay. Thank goodness. I'll get the paperwork ready immediately."

"Thank you. And please... I don't want Shawn knowing a single thing yet."

"Of course. You have my word."

The call ended.

I increased the volume of the nonsense playing on my tablet, morbidly fascinated by the sheer depth of Miranda's betrayal. She had returned to the city a year ago and already had my husband wrapped around her perfectly manicured finger.

I had been his for five years and couldn't even get him to remember my birthday without a prompt from his secretary.

"When are you going to finally divorce her, Shawn?" Miranda moaned on the screen, her nails digging into his back as he bit at her neck, clearly reluctant to let her go.

"Soon, my love. Very soon."

"You keep saying that," she scoffed, playfully trying to step away. Shawn pulled her back in with a growl and kissed her lips cherishingly-a look of pure devotion I had never seen.

I could count on one hand how many times Shawn had kissed me in five years. They were always chaste kisses. Public. Polite. Cold. Once, I had even desperately wondered if I had bad breath-and spent a fortune at the dentist out of pure insecurity.

"Shawn... you're trying to confuse me again..."

He chuckled. "I promise. Soon. I just need to figure out how to convince my grandfather."

"And how will you do that? That old man is a sticker for traditions!"

Shawn's jaw tightened on the screen, his eyes turning predatory. "Not after tonight. She's going to fall from her pedestal."

My brows lifted as I raised the volume even higher.

"What did you plan?" Miranda asked, smiling like a stereotypical villain in a poorly written drama.

"Drug her. Dump her in a hotel room with an unsuspecting, drugged-up guy. I already have a prospect lined up. The rest writes itself. I'll make sure she's caught in the act. My grandfather will have no choice, especially when I bring out the doctored photos I already have, showing her sleeping with different men over the months."

I paused the video, the frame freezing on his deceitful face.

What??

What in the fecking hell is this...

But I was finally done crying for Shawn.

And I didn't regret hacking his CCTV for a second. I didn't regret finally trusting my instincts after years of being gaslit. All I had ever done was sacrifice my own happiness to make him happy... and this was my reward.

But no more.

Enough of being the perfect housewife. Enough of swallowing his abuse like a daily dose of medicine.

Maybe it was time he tasted his own poison.

I turned off the tablet, the screen going black, and tossed it aside as I stood up. Something slipped off my lap and clattered softly to the floor.

I looked down. It was the pregnancy kit... the one that clearly showed double red lines.

I was pregnant, after five years of hoping, after years of being mocked and called barren by his family. It should have been the most joyful news of my life.

It still was.

But Shawn wouldn't be the father.

No. He wouldn't even know.

"I will take care of you, baby," I whispered to the empty room, rubbing my stomach with a protective hand as I picked up the kit.

Then I walked toward my room, my head held high, to prepare for his grandfather's birthday dinner, knowing I had to still keep up appearances till Cassius was done preparing the papers.

I won't let my child grow up in a cold, loveless home. Not like this. Never like this.

ELARA

Why not start my revenge right now?

The thought settled into my mind, igniting a dark curiosity I hadn't felt in years. I stood at the foot of my bed, my breathing shallow as I stared at the packed bags resting on the deep-blue silk duvet.

It would be a delicious satisfaction, watching Shawn face the kind of genuine company crisis he had always pretended to have. The same crisis he'd used as a pathetic excuse for his late nights, his missed anniversaries, my forgotten birthdays, and his total emotional abandonment of our marriage.

A sinister smile curved my lips, pulling at muscles that had grown stiff from years of forced smiles. Yes... now will do.

I reached for the bags, my fingers tightening around the leather handles as if I were gripping the throat of every future mistake I intended to rectify. With controlled movements, I lifted them and tucked them deep into the wardrobe.

I couldn't have him finding out my plan just yet.

Crossing the room with newfound purpose, I walked to my private cabinet and unlocked it. From the hidden compartment inside, I pulled out a black, worn laptop bag that felt heavier than it looked.

"I've missed you too," I murmured under my breath, feeling tears sting my eyes.

Why had I given up all these for a man? Worse, a man who deserved it not.

I sniffed, pushing back the urge to cry.

You've wept enough!, I scolded myself, while opening the bag. I pulled out my heavy black laptop.

I powered it on, entered my complex passcode, and immediately gained access to its encrypted contents. I navigated to the dark web without a second of delay, setting the machine down on my dresser as the screen's blue light reflected in my hardened eyes.

My gaze turned to steel as I tapped on a familiar group icon and typed a simple, single greeting.

Hello.

As I stretched my fingers, rolling the built-up tension from my wrists until they clicked, notifications began to explode across the screen in a frantic, digital blur.

"Oh my goodness, Nuxia is back!"

"Boss, is that you?"

"It's been five years too long! We missed you!"

"Welcome back, boss!"

A dry chuckle left my lips. Welcome back, indeed.

I had buried this powerful part of myself just to play the obedient, invisible housewife Shawn and his toxic family demanded. I had softened my edges and dulled my own power for the sake of a man who never deserved a single sacrifice I made.

And what had I gotten in return for my loyalty?

Penury. Neglect. A cold-blooded betrayal.

I touched my belly, my fingers resting there with a sudden, fierce protective instinct that made my heart hammer against my ribs.

At least I had this. At least I had a reason to fight.

For this child, I would burn down entire worlds, and I would build a better one from the ash. I would make absolutely sure my baby never grew up begging for crumbs of love from someone who had no heart to give.

"Do I merit a welcome package?" I typed, a ghost of a predatory smile flashing across my face.

Emojis flooded the chat. Stickers of celebration.

"Of course, boss! What do you want? Give us a target."

My smile turned dangerous, my eyes narrowing. I typed exactly what I wanted.

A virus bug. A clean, silent infiltration into Shawn's company servers. Something jagged that would expose sensitive customer data, shake every ounce of investor confidence, and drag him into the kind of agonizing, sleepless nights he had spent five years faking to avoid me.

I wanted to make him truly, deeply panic.

"Consider it done, boss!"

"Did the director of this company offend you?"

If only they knew the half of it.

"Yes," I typed simply, my fingers hovering over the keys. "Do your best."

They didn't disappoint. My people never did.

Unlike Shawn.

I logged off, the screen fading to black, and closed the laptop with a definitive snap. Then I rose and walked out of the room, my stride humming with a dark, focused intent. I headed straight toward Shawn's personal office.

It was time to reclaim every single thing I had ever given him.

It was better to pull my financial support now, before the entire company collapsed under the weight of the cyber virus I had just unleashed.

Inside his office, the scent of his expensive woodsy cologne hit me like a physical blow. My jaw tightened so hard it ached as I moved to his computer, knowing I had less than an hour before he returned to take me to his grandfather's birthday dinner.

There was no time to dawdle with emotions.

I connected my laptop to his system.

My fingers moved with an efficiency fueled by a righteous fury that made my skin tingle. Through an anonymous profile I'd kept hidden for years, I submitted a formal request for the buyback of my shares.

Then, I hacked directly into his profile as Managing Director and approved the deal. I had no more time for protocols.

Seconds later, the confirmation flashed on my screen: The funds have been transferred.

A satisfied exhale escaped me, a weight lifting from my shoulders.

Then, on a sudden impulse, I decided to snoop through his private drives.

And oh... the wells of absolute corruption I found lurking beneath his "perfect" businessman exterior.

He had been stealing from the very company his grandfather handed to him on a silver platter. Embezzling funds. Laundering money. I saw chats where he spoke comfortably with men of the underworld, using his family's legacy as a cleaning ground for their dirty cash.

My lips curved into a venomous, sharp smile. So this was the man who had the audacity to call me useless?

I transferred everything-every document, every chat log, every shred of proof-to my private system. Then I logged into another anonymous profile. Blogger: Stormbringer.

I scheduled the evidence to be released to every major news outlet exactly twenty-four hours from now.

He wanted to ruin me. He wanted to drug me and destroy my reputation in front of the world.

Fine. He would have front-row seats to his own public execution.

I shut down the systems and left his office without a single backward glance.

My phone beeped just as I stepped back into the sanctuary of my room.

Grandfather Max.

"Elara, I hope you are still coming with your husband... we have a lot of guests waiting."

A sad smile touched my lips as I read the text.

Yes, he was a cold calculative patriarch, more concerned with his public image than anything else, but he was also the only person in that entire viper's nest of a family who had ever treated me like a human being.

And what better gift could I give him than the hard truth?

I would show him that his grandson was unfit to rule anything but a pile of ruin.

"Yes, Gramps. I will be there. Happy birthday once again!" I replied.

My smile widening into a sinister thing, I walked to my wardrobe to pick a dress for the dinner.

Out of habit, my hand reached for the black, somber gown I usually wore... a dress too big, too dull, the drab uniform of a dutiful, invisible housewife. My fingers brushed the scratchy hem, then paused.

No more of this either, I mused, feeling a strange, electric thrill run through my veins.

My eyes drifted to a bold, blood-red gown hanging at the far end of the wardrobe, and my smile widened even more.

Perfect.

It was better to dress how I've always longed to. Better to show up as my real self.

No more hiding in the shadows for a man who deserved the dark.

ELARA

I smoothed the invisible creases on the red gown I wore, my eyes catching the steady tick of the clock on the wall.

7 p.m. And Shawn wasn't here yet.

Did he seriously forget?

The birthday dinner had been scheduled to start around 5:30 p.m. We were already almost two hours late!

I picked my phone up from my clutch purse, uncrossed my legs, and dialed his number.

Surely, he couldn't choose Miranda over his own grandfather? Not tonight at least...

There was no answer the first time. None the second.

Impatience bloomed into a restless, prickling heat beneath my skin. I got to my feet, my fingers tightening around my clutch as I paced the sitting room and dialed again.

My eyes caught my reflection in the mirror of the west wing of the sitting room, and I couldn't help but smile at the transformation. I wondered, for a brief, fleeting second, what he would say when he finally saw me.

Would he rethink things? Would he-

Idiot. I cursed myself. I stomped both the thought and the dying embers of love that tried to swamp me. I didn't need his approval. And I definitely didn't want his love anymore!

I had to be strong. For me. And for the baby.

Finally, he answered on the fourth dial.

"Shawn..."

Music throbbed in the background of the call. Laughter. Then his mother's voice drifted through the line, clear enough to cut.

"Where is that peasant you call a wife? Did she forget what today was?" A pause, followed by a conspiratorial hiss. "I have told you to divorce her already... you are still going on with the plans, right..."

I inhaled slowly, forcing the oxygen into my lungs even as my chest tightened with a cold ache. So they all knew. The whole family was in on the plan to ruin me.

I ended the call without waiting for him to speak.

But he called back instantly.

"Elara, where are you?! Did you forget what today was?"

I snorted softly, the sound bitter in the quiet room. The fool didn't even suspect I might have overheard. He must be quite confident in my supposed stupidity.

"You mentioned we'd be going together," I said coolly. "Did you forget?"

A pause on the other end. Then Miranda's sickly sweet voice floated into the receiver, dripping with fake innocence.

"Oh, Shawny, come on, let's go see Grandfather. They're already bringing out the gifts..."

Shawny?

I scoffed. It sounded like the name for a lapdog-which, frankly, was exactly what he was to her.

"You went with Miranda?" I baited him, my curiosity thriving over my common sense. I wanted to see how far he would go to cover his tracks.

He cleared his throat, sounding slightly flustered, the sound of a man caught in a web of his own making. "We met at the office, so I came with her since she mentioned you invited her..."

I nodded slowly to the empty room. I never invited Miranda. In fact, I had started avoiding her months ago, ever since my instincts began screaming that she wasn't the "best friend" I'd known in high school.

"All the same, start coming," he continued, his tone turning dismissive and cold. "Grandfather is getting anxious. Should I send an Uber, since you can't drive?"

"No, don't worry. Enjoy the party. I'll be there in about ten minutes..."

Then he ended the call, leaving me with the dial tone.

Inhaling deeply again, controlling my emotions, I slipped my phone back stiffly into the purse, strolled to the dining area, and collected the meticulously packaged gift I had for Grandpa Max. Then, I walked out of the house.

On second thought, I turned back, headed to the basket of keys in the hallway, and picked the one for the red Porsche, Shawn's personal baby.

Might as well confuse them.

The compound was filled with a sea of guests when I arrived at the mansion ten minutes later. There wasn't a single place to park, but because the Porsche gleamed, one of the security guards-assuming I was some visiting dignitary or high-society heiress-cleared a path immediately.

I felt the weight of a hundred gazes as the guests turned to see who had arrived two hours late.

The guard respectfully pointed me toward a parking space right near the entrance.

When I turned off the ignition, I removed my sunglasses slowly. I was fully aware of the attention-on the car, on the flash of red, on the woman driving a machine worth more than most of their homes.

I could already see Shawn's mother approaching from the entrance, her spine stiff, preparing to act like a gracious hostess to a guest she didn't recognize.

This would be fun.

Another deep inhale. Gift and purse in my right hand, I pushed open the door and stepped out.

The guard bowed, the tips of his ears turning a bright pink as he hurried aside at the matriarch's approach.

He hadn't recognized me. None of them had.

Interesting.

"Hello! Welcome, welcome!" Linda beamed, actually looking beautiful in her own way as she waved me forward with a fake, practiced smile.

I couldn't help the smug smile that slithered across my lips. "Good evening... Mother..."

I watched the transformation happen in real-time, and it was glorious.

I watched her smile dry up and wither the second she realized who was standing before her. I watched the confusion taint her face as her gaze dragged over me from head to toe, taking in every expensive inch of the silk and the terrifying confidence in my eyes.

"Elara?"

"The one and only," I mused lightly, then looked past her at the watching crowd, my chin tilted high.

The whispers were already reaching my ears like the buzzing of a disturbed hive.

"Is that Elara Lindays?"

"I can't believe it. Has she always been this beautiful?"

"Is that an Areso gown? And those killer heels... oh my goodness..."

"Shawn really hid this beauty at home, and for what?"

"She's still a peasant though... from the countryside. What's the use of her beauty then..."

I tuned them out. Ignoring Linda's shocked silence, I started toward the heart of the party, where I was sure Grandpa Max would be waiting in his seat of honor.

But my movement snapped her out of her daze. She reached out and grabbed my arm, her grip tight and claw-like.

"Where do you think you're going? Why are you coming at this time, you stupid girl!"

I cocked my head slightly, staring at her intensely, but said nothing.

She must have been unsettled by the sheer coldness of my gaze, because she blurted out, "Do you think dressing to the nines will change who you are? Will it detract from the scolding you will receive from Shawn?"

How had I tolerated this for five years? I wondered, looking down at her hand on my sleeve with a sense of clinical detachment.

Slowly, I removed her hand from my arm, finger by finger. Then I glared at her-smiling faintly when she took a step back, shock flashing in her eyes at whatever cold steel she saw reflected in mine.

Then I walked away. I had to see Grandfather.

He was exactly where I expected, under a mini canopy where the elite guests stepped forward to present their offerings. When he saw me, he beamed, his face lighting up with genuine warmth as he called me over.

"My dear, you look gorgeous!"

I smiled, fully aware of Shawn staring at me from across the lawn, standing with Miranda, with the rest of his judgmental family. I was aware of Linda stepping into the canopy behind me, her face red with fury. Aware that we had suddenly, violently, become the center of everyone's attention.

"Thanks, Gramps. Happy birthday!"

I was just about to hand him my gift when Miranda closed the distance between us, her arms lifting as if to pull me into a sisterly hug.

I raised my hand, stopping her dead in her tracks with a single gesture.

"Stay away," I said coolly, the words loud enough for everyone nearby to hear clearly. "You smell like shitty perfume."