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Too Late For My Ex-Husband's Regret

Too Late For My Ex-Husband's Regret

Author: Mo Er
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Chapter 1 

Word Count: 714    |    Released on: Today at 16:22

a P

e dead silence of suburban Boston townhouse. I gripped my thin cashmer

hat made me shiver. My husband, Brennan Hurley strode inside in his cus

usband's temper and looked past his broad shoulders at

ht knit dress that made no sense in a Boston blizzard. She had tugged the necklin

own home like a trophy, showing m

s, digging my nails deep into

eavy coat, and draped it carefully over Brittny's bare shoulders. He wrapped his large, cal

he asked, his voice dr

y-blue contacts, her eyes full of smug challenge. She placed both

before I could even look away, Brenn

I was trash in my own home. He reached into his briefcase, pull

The bold black title on the top page - Divorc

pants pocket. "Sign it. My PR team

s. He wanted me to take the blame for our split so he could marry his pregnant mistress without triggering the mo

sign the divorce papers. But playing along wi

laugh. He stepped closer, his tal

Aria?" He jabbed a finger hard into my shoulder.

his grandfather had pulled me out of a fatal rink-side collapse, and that

r and grabbed Brennan's arm. Her eyes tur

with Aria because of me," she

with his, his expression twisting w

save me after my car crash," Brennan said coldly. "N

ve shirt lay the faded red scar from a living kidney transplant - the kidn

shing the edge of the div

peated, my voice like ice. "Eve

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Too Late For My Ex-Husband's Regret
Too Late For My Ex-Husband's Regret
“My NHL All-Star husband brought his pregnant mistress home in the middle of a blizzard. He threw a divorce and fake PR remarriage contract at my feet, demanding I take the blame for our split so he wouldn't breach his franchise morality clause. He claimed he owed the mistress a proper title because she donated her kidney to save him after a fatal crash three years ago. But he was too blind to know the kidney inside his body was actually mine. When I refused to play along with his PR stunt, his mistress maliciously had my pet rabbit cooked and tricked me into eating it. I slapped them both in absolute grief, but my husband snapped. He forced my bloody thumbprint onto the contract, then brought ten thugs into the house to drug me and film a fake cheating scandal to ruin me forever. As hallucinogenic gas filled the locked attic, I clawed at the door and screamed for my life. But my husband just told his mistress to ignore my "pathetic act" and walked out the front door with her. I had endured his coldness and the fans' vicious hate for three years, secretly giving him my own organ to repay a life debt to his family. Why was my silent devotion repaid with him leaving me to be destroyed by a gang of thugs? Just as the men closed in, a mysterious man in the back row suddenly stepped forward and brutally crushed the entire gang in seconds. He wrapped his jacket around my shaking shoulders, his ice-blue eyes flashing with lethal rage. "It's okay now. You're safe." Surviving this hell, I knew my debt to the Hurley family was paid in full-now, it was their turn to bleed.”