
Billionaire Husband Begged “Slut” Ex-Wife Back
Chapter 2
When I opened my eyes again, everything was a blinding white.
Alexander’s grandfather Edmund was sitting in my hospital room. When he saw me wake, a flicker of tenderness crossed his eyes.
"Wren, my dear... these past three years, you've suffered more than anyone should. Alexander doesn't deserve you."
"I've arranged a new identity for you. There's a flight in seven days. Consider it... a parting gift from the Sterling family, for everything you've done."
My heart ached, and all those buried memories came flooding back.
An arranged marriage between wealthy families—the oldest story in the book. But I'd always counted myself lucky, because I thought we were the exception.
I'd been with Alexander for seven years. For seven years, he'd cherished and protected me with everything he had.
I thought we would make it.
Then, three years ago, one of Alexander's enemies kidnapped me to get revenge on him.
I was tortured for three days and three nights. Videos of what they did to me went viral online.
By the time he found me, I was barely recognizable as human.
He stormed in alone and nearly died saving me, collapsing from toxic gas exposure.
For months afterward, I barely slept. I was in and out of surgery myself, but I kept giving my own blood to keep him alive.
By some miracle, he pulled through.
But when I rushed to the hospital, I found him holding Dahlia's hand, gazing at her with a warmth I'd thought was reserved for me.
When he heard me and turned, there was nothing in his eyes but cold indifference.
The doctors said the combination of post-traumatic stress and an overdose of psychiatric medication had scrambled his memory. He'd forgotten the horror of those events—and along with it, every memory of me had been replaced by Dahlia.
Years of love, erased in an instant.
I stubbornly clung to his side, enduring their cruelty, surviving on fading scraps of what we'd once had.
Until today, when I finally came to my senses.
The man who'd once treasured me like I was the most precious thing in the world was gone.
After Edmund left, I closed my eyes in exhaustion.
But a second later, the door slammed open.
Alexander stormed in, his face dark with fury.
The rage in his eyes was enough to swallow me whole.
Before I could say a word, he grabbed my arm and hauled me off the bed onto the floor.
The force of it was so brutal I heard something in my body crack.
"You put your hands on Dahlia? On her unborn child? You—a gold-digger who schemed her way into this family?"
Dahlia trailed in behind him, weeping as though her heart were breaking:
"I just feel so bad for you… not being able to have that experience. But why would you try to take it away from me?"
"What are you talking about? I don't know what—"
Before I could finish, Alexander cut me off with a cold, bitter laugh.
"Pathetic. Did you really think I wouldn't dare touch you?"
"Your parents being dead doesn't make you a victim. After what you've done, they'd be turning in their graves."
And now he was throwing my parents in my face.
My mother and father had died racing to the hospital to pay for Alexander's treatment. A freight truck hit their car head-on. There wasn't enough left of them to piece together.
Alexander's grip tightened, and the words pouring from his mouth grew more vicious.
"You latched onto the Sterling name, and you'll cling to it until someone pries you off, won't you? Pull anything like this again, and I'll destroy you."
Beneath me, the fresh sutures from my surgery were tearing open one by one under his hands. But the pain in my body didn't amount to a fraction of what was shredding my heart.
I wanted to defend myself, but what was there to say? What was the point?
All these years, he'd never once believed me. He only ever took Dahlia's word.
Once, I'd laid evidence right in front of him. He'd barely glanced at it.
"I'm busy. Don't waste my time with this garbage."
I looked at him, and all I felt was a bone-deep exhaustion:
"Alexander... after all this time, you still won't believe me? Not even once?"
Something about the lifelessness in my expression made Alexander falter. A flash of unease darted through him before he could stop it.
Dahlia chimed in on cue: "It's okay. Maybe it's all just a misunderstanding..."
Watching Dahlia cry so beautifully, Alexander shoved that strange feeling down.
"Stop making excuses. On the day it happened, the only person Dahlia saw was you. No one else had the chance to hurt her."
That last fragile spark of hope was snuffed out.
I smiled bitterly to myself.