Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable

My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out. I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm: "In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling." Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped. When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself." Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son. The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne. I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie." I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare.

Modern Parenting Ex-wife Drama

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“Poor bride. She’s been standing there for hours waiting for the groom,” I heard a woman’s whispering voice.

“It’s truly so sad. I can’t imagine how sad she’s feeling,” Another woman replied in a hushed tone.

“Do you think the groom has ditched her?” A man whispered in a low voice.

“That would be too sad. Please don’t say that…” Another woman replied with what seemed to be genuine sadness in her voice.

I stood silently in front of the altar in a white wedding dress that was far too elegant for my tastes and far too heavy for my comfort. The overly high-heel shoes that I was wearing was starting to hurt my feet and my legs were starting to feel sore from standing still for too long. I clenched and then unclenched my hands together for the hundredth time, or something along those lines since I had already lost count.

The sequined lace fabric of the dress that covered my arms in a long sleeve was itchy, not that anyone cared. I didn’t choose this dress. I have never met my groom. I was in love with another man. Most of all, I didn’t want to get married.

Yes. Me, Malissa Maxford is being forced into a contract marriage with the heir of the largest global mafia syndicate.

It was cold inside the white marble church; however, I was sweating in discomfort. I don’t know how long I’ve been standing here just waiting for my future husband to arrive. It must have been at least a couple of hours and everyone else have gotten restless and anxious.

If this had been a wedding that I wanted, I would have felt so worried that the groom has not shown up. However, the truth is, I didn’t care if he never shows up. Actually, it would be for the better for us all if he never showed up. Then the wedding would be called off and my grandmother and I can return to our normal and peaceful life.

I glanced sideway to see my frail and very sick granny sitting in a wheelchair with a nurse standing close behind her. I wish this wedding or whatever would be over quickly so that she can return to rest at the hospital. My grandmother was very old, and recently, I had discovered that she was very sick. The doctors couldn’t tell me how much longer she had left but even my untrained eye could tell that it wasn’t very long.

“Where’s the groom?” a man asked in a hush voice.

“Good questions. We’ve been waiting for almost three hours already…” another man replied before yawning.

“Shhhh…be quiet. The boss will kill you if he hears,” another man hissed to the other two.

“Has someone found him yet?” another voice asked seriously.

“I sent a bunch of men from my squad already. It shouldn’t take much longer…” someone else replied but I couldn’t sense much conviction from his voice.

“Don’t stare at the boss. He’ll kill you if he sees you staring…” one of the men hissed.

“That’s right. He’s definitely not in a good mood,” another one said with a sigh.

“What is that damn son of his doing?” the other said in a very soft whisper.

“Exactly, it’s his wedding and he’s not even here…” another man replied in agreement.

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