Too Late For My Ex-Husband's Regret

Chapter 2

Word Count: 577 | Released on: Today at 16:22

a P

Brennan's eyes turned bloodshot. He reached into his pocket, pulled

t wife he treated like a doormat dared to talk back. He thr

rown a sp

rittny curved her lips into a triu

from the hallway and bowed slightly. "

alked toward the dining room. I stood still for a second, tossed the humiliating contrac

s. "Get over here and eat with us

step, my fingers gripping t

ides, and grabbed my wrist. His grip was so ti

he gritted out through clenched tee

fighting the brute strength of a pro hockey playe

andelier. Brennan pulled out the chair to the right of the head seat for Brittny like a perfe

he co

e chair and sat down stiffly. The chef p

f foie gras, and took a bite with an exaggerate

s is amazin

ching out to stroke her hair affectionately. I stared down

he walked down the length of the table and pushed the bowl right in front of me. Inside were several

f the table, looking down at me wi

, dragging out her words. "You need to

ldly. "Take it awa

Brennan slammed his wate

you herself, and you're giving her an a

d up my fork, speared a piece of the m

Chapter End

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

Too Late For My Ex-Husband's Regret

Mo Er Romance

“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.”