Apartment 46

Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable

Tao Yaoyao

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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In a dimly-lit hotel room...

Rena Gordon passionately kissed the handsome stranger.

Earlier tonight, her ex-boyfriend, Harold Moore, announced his engagement—with another woman. Rena was so devastated that she got drunk at a bar. Under the influence of alcohol and the strange man's charm, she somehow ended up here.

Now that Harold was marrying a rich girl regardless of his four-year relationship with her, then she could also indulge herself a little, right?

Just as the man was pulling her clothes off, Rena leaned on the man's shoulder and forgot herself, murmuring, "Harold!"

The man stopped abruptly, and the lust in the atmosphere instantly dissipated.

The next second, the lights were flicked on.

The bright light made her squint, but when her eyes finally adjusted to the light, she saw the man's face clearly.

It was Waylen Fowler—the most sought-after lawyer across the country. He was very famous in law circles, and he was an elite with countless assets.

But most importantly, he was the future brother-in-law of Harold, who had just betrayed her.

Rena sobered up instantly.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She almost had sex with the brother of her very rival in love!

Waylen also pulled away from her.

Leaning against the wall, he lit a cigarette. After taking a long drag, he looked her up and down and said playfully, "Very interesting, Miss Gordon."

He flicked the ash off his cigarette and asked with a faint smile, "What were you thinking about just now when you kissed me? Did you want to have sex with me to make Harold jealous?"

Obviously, Waylen also recognized her now.

Rena couldn't pretend that she didn't know this man.

After all, Waylen was famous. She just didn't recognize him earlier because of the alcohol.

She knew that she couldn't afford to offend such a big shot, so she lowered her head and apologized meekly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Fowler. I drank too much."

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