MY EVIL EX-LOVER

MY EVIL EX-LOVER

Sunkissed

5.0
Comment(s)
43
View
31
Chapters

On the day of her grand wedding, a sudden twist shattered Cardy's plans. In an extraordinary act, her ex-lover stormed in, disrupting the ceremony and causing it to come to an abrupt halt. In the aftermath, Cardy found herself at a crossroads, faced with two perplexing choices. Should she consider reuniting with her once-dear, but now malicious, ex-partner? Or should she embark on a contract marriage, a path laden with its own set of unknowns?

Chapter 1 Contract Request

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?

Continue Reading

You'll also like

HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)

HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)

Viviene
4.9

Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.

The $300 Husband Is A Zillionaire

The $300 Husband Is A Zillionaire

Nap Regazzini
5.0

I woke up in a blindingly white hotel penthouse with a throbbing headache and the taste of betrayal in my mouth. The last thing I remembered was my stepsister, Cathie, handing me a flute of champagne at the charity gala with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Now, a tall, dangerously handsome man walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips. On the nightstand sat a stack of hundred-dollar bills. My stepmother had finally done it—she drugged me and staged a scandal with a hired escort to destroy my reputation and my future. "Aisha! Is it true you spent the night with a gigolo?" The shouts of a dozen reporters echoed through the heavy oak door as camera flashes exploded through the peephole. My phone lit up with messages showing my bank accounts were already frozen. My father was invoking the 'morality clause' in my mother’s trust fund, and my fiancé had already released a statement dumping me to marry my stepsister instead. I was trapped, penniless, and being hunted by the press for a scandal I hadn't even participated in. My own family had sold me out for a payday, and the man standing in front of me was the only witness who could prove I was innocent—or finish me off for good. I didn't have time to cry. According to the fine print of the trust, I had thirty days to prove my "rehabilitation" through a legal marriage or I would lose everything. I tracked the man down to a coffee shop the next morning, watching him take a thick envelope of cash from a wealthy older woman. I sat across from him and slid a napkin with a $50,000 figure written on it. "I need a husband. Legal, paper-signed, and convincing." He looked at the number, then at me, a slow, crooked smile spreading across his face. I thought I was hiring a desperate gigolo to save my inheritance. I had no idea I was actually proposing to Dominic Fields, the reclusive billionaire shark who was currently planning a hostile takeover of my father’s entire empire.

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

Temple Madison
5.0

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book