An Unlikely Goddess: The Ex-Wife's Revenge

Late autumn nights always brought a weird kind of warmth inside the car.

Elaria caught the faint scent of tobacco on Liam-same brand Sebastian used. Her mind buzzed with alcohol, and in that hazy mix-up, she mistook Liam for Sebastian...

She closed her eyes, her fingers catching Liam's hand as she murmured, "Sebastian."

Half-dreaming, half-awake-like falling back into the old days.

Back to how she used to be with Sebastian...

Liam didn't pull away. He didn't say a word, just turned to stare at the pitch-black road ahead. The night outside was like silk soaked in rain-soft, heavy, matching the mess in his head.

Liam had his fair share of flings.

Straightforward stuff-no strings attached. But this? This raw, aching thing coming off Elaria? That was new. He couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to be loved that deeply by someone like her...

In the far-off sky, fireworks exploded.

Suddenly, the night turned as bright as day.

The person in the passenger seat shifted slightly-barely a move, but Liam caught it. He glanced at her, his dark eyes calm. "You awake?"

Elaria felt her body heavy and limp, but her mind slowly cleared.

She knew she'd had too much to drink, and Liam had dragged her out of the bar... the rest was a blur.

Her voice came out scratchy. "What time is it?"

"Just past 1:30," Liam said simply.

Elaria quietly watched the fireworks above, her eyes glistening. She looked oddly calm.

After a pause, she whispered, "I've seen the brightest fireworks in the world. Thought they'd be mine forever. But I forgot-no matter how stunning, fireworks fade fast."

"Like me and Sebastian. I thought giving everything up meant he'd stay. Took me this long to get it... Maybe he did imagine love, just not with me."

She let out a bitter laugh. "Tell me, Liam, am I just... pathetic?"

"No."

Liam's voice was flat but firm. "As long as you want to be, you'll always be Mrs. Richards."

He wasn't just trying to make her feel better.

Men like Sebastian didn't divorce easily. Flirting with some young girl? Sure. But the title of Mrs. Richards? That still belonged to a woman like Elaria.

She gave the faintest smile and turned back to watch the fireworks-silent again.

Around 2 a.m., Liam dropped her off at Imperial Crest Residences.

As he parked, Elaria turned to thank him quietly and held out his jacket.

"Keep it for now," Liam said. "It's chilly out there."

Elaria figured it'd be better to return it cleaned, so she didn't push. She grabbed the coat and got out, saying goodbye. Liam nodded from the driver's seat with his usual cool expression, then drove off down the street.

The moon lit up the sky, and a cold breeze blew past.

Elaria pressed her fingers to her temple-head pounding.

A housekeeper came up to her.

The alcohol smell was hard to miss, but she didn't mention it. "Ma'am, did you drink tonight? Mr. Richards just called, said he's coming by to grab a few changes of clothes. Do you want to pack them, or should I go upstairs?"

Elaria had already made up her mind about the divorce. Sebastian's stuff? Not her concern anymore.

She told the housekeeper to go pack. Meanwhile, she dragged herself upstairs with Liam's jacket clutched in hand. The moment she hit the bed, she passed out cold.

The breeze stirred the white curtains. Moonlight spilled in, leaving a soft glow on Elaria's sleeping figure-making her look fragile, almost unreal.That black tailored suit jacket lay there at the foot of the bed, tossed aside like it didn't matter.

*****

Late that night, the quiet of the yard was broken by the soft hum of a car pulling up.

Sebastian was back.

He didn't step out right away, just opened the door of his sleek black Bentley. Things between him and Elaria hadn't ended well earlier. With Bianca's worsening condition, he'd swung by only to grab a bag of clothes before heading out again.

One of the house staff heard the car and came hurrying over, handing the suitcase to Sebastian. The housekeeper hesitated a second, then added, "Mrs. Richards just got home. She'd had quite a bit to drink. It was Mr. Collins who brought her back."

Sebastian's brow furrowed. "She was drinking?"

After a moment's pause, he decided to check in on her.

Soon, he was upstairs. He pushed open the door to the master bedroom.

The room was dimly lit, a faint trace of red wine lingering in the air. Even her soft breathing seemed to carry a touch of sweetness.

He reached over and flicked on the light near the bed. Bright white light filled the room.

There she was, sprawled out across the bed, hair tousled and falling over her chest. Her silk shirt hung open at the collar, exposing pale flawless skin. The hem of her black dress had ridden up slightly, tracing out her curves, undeniably alluring.

Elaria always had a great figure-Sebastian knew that better than anyone.

She could be distant in bed, never really letting go. He remembered once she even brought up work mid-way-it was hard to feel desire when your partner talked business in the middle of everything. Over time, his interest naturally faded.

Still, the sight of her now stirred something in him. Maybe it had just been too long. Maybe, despite trying to maintain control, he was still a man after all.

He sat on the edge of the bed, quietly watching her sleep.

Even in sleep, her brows were pinched together, like there was hurt she couldn't let go.

She'd always loved him-Sebastian had never doubted that. But he didn't love her back. The only thing he ever gave her was the title of Mrs. Richards. Romance? Real love? That never factored into the equation for him.

His hand reached up to brush her cheek.

It was cold to the touch.

His gaze darkened, and he murmured, "Isn't being Mrs. Richards enough? Elaria... Feelings that strong always come with a price. I thought you, of all people, would've learned to let go a long time ago."

All that answered him was her steady, quiet breathing.

He was just about to leave when something caught his eye, and he froze.

A man's suit jacket was lying at the foot of the bed.

Sebastian picked it up. High-end designer-he wore similar brands himself, but this one clearly wasn't his.

It had to be Liam's.

A sharp discomfort flared in Sebastian's chest. He knew logically Liam probably didn't think much of it, but as a husband, seeing another man's clothes in his bedroom triggered something raw in him.

Elaria was his wife.

*****

Downstairs, the lights were still on.

The housemaid hadn't slept, waiting for Sebastian to come down.

When she finally heard movement from upstairs, she looked up to see him descending the staircase, face unreadable.

Without a word, he handed her the jacket in his hand and said flatly, "Clean this and send it to Mr. Collins's office."

She took it without a word of protest.

Back at his car, Sebastian was about to drive off. But then, for some reason, he paused and looked up toward the second floor of the main house.

That's where Elaria was sleeping.

Earlier that night, they'd argued. She had said she had something important to tell him. Something she never got the chance to say.