BILLIONAIRE'S REGRET: HIS EX-WIFE RETURNS FROM THE DEAD

He never kissed me good morning, nor did I see him again.

Days later, and I have no fucking clue where to start my revenge. All I do is sit by the window for hours to calculate how long it’ll take Zeath to return home.

No matter how many texts and calls I bombard him with, he doesn’t reply. It’s like I’ve become a ghost to him.

And sometimes, I wonder how I let myself be fooled. How did I not put two and two together?

Or I’ve just been paying no attention.

Back in high school, I liked Zeath.

I had this huge crush on him—that was years ago. He always had Yolie in his arms, but I just didn’t mind her, especially since bitching ran in her blood.

I wore my pride like a coat and pretended not to see Zeath, ignoring him whenever we met instead of gaping at him.

I may even be the only one who never gave him the satisfaction of being an idol, as he was that senior every girl wanted to date.

A little over three years ago, I saw my dream come true when he started to get close to my family.

He sponsored my father’s presidential campaign.

At first, I thought it was just business since he also wanted my father’s full support of the Fanning group of companies if he became president.

But I began to feel his eyes on me; intense, tiny prickles spreading over my skin.

It was stronger than any other, more chilling than when a ghost stared at you.

He soon smiled at me, something I didn’t see in high school.

Not long after, he dropped the L-word, saying how much he had been obsessed with me since middle school and how sad he was when he learned we wouldn’t be attending the same college.

We had just graduated then, and he immediately took over his dad’s company as the heir.

Meanwhile, I mopped around, waiting for a prince charming to swoop me off my feet. So, marriage was definitely an option. And that is why I didn’t hesitate to say yes when Zeath popped the question after some months of dating.

Our wedding was something out of a Cinderella fantasy. And, yes, beneath the magical lights and ethereal robes, there was something darker—rotten—that'd soon penetrate the fancy and render my life as teetering as it is now.

I move from the window to the closet, where I grab two of Zeath’s shirts. I haven’t been able to resist sniffing his scent for a while now. It’s like an addiction; bad and good in a way. But has a side effect equally.

Fuck it, what the hell am I doing? Self-pity is not a good suit for me, nor is self-blame. I look pathetic. Even my family may smell it from miles away.

I need to do something instead of wandering about and being driven to madness.

Zeath wants to gaslight me; pin his fuck up on my head. A thousand fucks to him because I’m not letting that play.

I have to get back to him and Yolie somehow. They shouldn’t toy with one’s feelings.

I also need to teach them not to tinker with marriage vows. And they certainly shouldn’t have bet on a Fanning.

Now I have to play dirty, just as they did.

My phone has been ringing on the bed for ages. I’m sure it’s not Zeath, as I have a special ringtone for his call.

I know it’s not Mom, or Dad, or Polinel either. Those three musketeers are doing a perfect job at forgetting that I ever existed.

But, despite who it is, the repeated ringtone manages to rip me from the claws of Zeath’s scent.

Now I have to at least answer this person’s call as a token of my appreciation.

The moment the call goes through, Oasis’s voice slams into my ear. “Mells, you’ve been AWO―”

“Oasis, vow to me on your last breath that I won’t find my name in the headlines tomorrow.”

“Whoa. Deep breaths, Fanning. Whenever are you not in the headlines?”

“Well, this one’s different.” I drop my voice to a whisper as if someone else in the mansion might hear me. Mind you, I’m the only one here for now. “I think Zeath and I are falling apart.”

“Wha― why?”

“Okay, I need that vow now.”

“I put a noose around my neck.” Always impatient. “Tell me.”

I take in a deep breath. “Zeath brought in a new woman. She’s damn pregnant.”

Oasis’s loud gasp nearly forces my hand to throw away my phone. “Fuck me, Mells!” she exclaims. “What in the world are you still doing there?”

“I can’t leave my marriage,” I sigh.

“No, you can. You can definitely walk out of a sick marriage when you’re being disrespected. A Fanning doesn’t tolerate that, remember?”

Yeah, I know. I read the hundreds of Fanning laws and mandates, and that’s the first one I caught. “I just...” My voice dwindles. Clearing my throat, I recover half of it. “I love him too much.”

“Aww, Mells. Okay, spill. Who’s this new woman? I might give her an earful.”

Now that’s the thing about Oasis, saying stuff that is supposed to exude compassion like she’s reading out a boring list of groceries.

I mean so when she said, ‘Aww, Mells.’ Sometimes, I wonder how she’s a doctor.

“I don’t know if an earful is necessary,” I reply. “She gets her fill from watching fucking Zeath string me along.”

“Is she a governor’s daughter, a senator’s? Tell me.”

“That I don’t know. Her name’s Yolie; the one who followed Zeath around like a pet in high school.”

“You mean Yolie Diza? Ah. She was his girlfriend. Her mom’s definitely something, I can’t recall. But I thought they’d broken up long before you and Zeath married.”

I roll my eyes with a sigh. “Well, figures.”

Oasis makes a tsk sound before silence befalls us.

Then she begins again, “You know what? I’m going to give her that earful. I’m not supposed to divulge this information, but she walked into the hospital some hours ago and hasn’t walked out since. Wonder how I only now recognize her after you mentioned her name. I’ll...”

The voice fades out as I slowly sit on the bed. My mind is a maze of ideas; conflicting ones that contrast with my morals. But I know these morals will take me nowhere.

After all, no one thought of that when they hurt me. Now I have to give them a piece of their own cake.

And thanks to Oasis’s call, I’ve just found my inspiration.

~

Her medical secretary tries to stop me at the door, but I barge in anyway. When she sees me, she quickly stands up from behind her desk and approaches me.

“For goodness’ sake, Mells, what are you doing here?” She asks in a panicked state.

“I need your help. Yolie, I need to see her.”

Oasis reaches me, grabs my shoulders, and tries to push me back toward the door. “Look, Mells, I have two active vows right now. One’s not to expose your ass. The other is to this hospital and my JOB, which I might lose since I’ve already broken a rule.”

I tear the lady’s hands off me. “You are a senior doctor.”

“And this is a Lupin hospital. I am not indestructible. Besides, you’re an angry woman trying to see the owner’s...” Oasis leans in with a whisper, “…preggy girlfriend.”

I back away before walking by her, reaching her desk and leaning on it as I state calmly, “Angry wife, Oasis.” Then I point to myself. “I’m his wife.”

Oasis scratches her nape with a sigh. “Can you just... go home? I said I would give the girl an earful.”

“Oh, at risk of ‘losing your job?’ An earful is not near enough. I need more. Now you might be thinking, ‘What more would she need? Yolie and Zeath were dating, after all, before she made herself a third wheel―’”

“No, that’s not what―”

“Which is not the case, nor did he cheat on me with her.”

“Mells, I’m not holding you―”

“They played me, Oasis,” I mutter, “those fuckers. It was a damn dare.” Oasis’s shoulders drop as her expression tangles with pity, confusion, and shock. “Apparently, because I lived in a dream world, they thought, ‘Why not make it happen?’ They’re even getting married.”

“Wait, I don’t understand.”

“Zeath said I’m a troll he can’t withstand. Do you understand that better?”

“Oh, Mells.”

I blink back tears, swallowing the bitter taste in my mouth that’s in the form of saliva.

“And he only married me to fulfill a dare he made with his friends and probably the fuckfaced Yolie back in high school because I always gallivanted around the school like a queen, tagging everybody as trash with my actions. Now that’s unfair, Oasis. You should see that.”

Nothing aside from Zeath’s actions torments me more than talking about this.

If it were possible to not, I wouldn’t. But Oasis always wants to hear the story, and she’ll push you to the edge so she can.

“I sympathize with you, my friend,” she says, “but you know you’ve got to retain some self-respect, right?”

I scoff. “What value does that even have? I’ve done such for years, yet it meant nothing. And I don’t need your sympathy. I need your help.”

Oasis presses her lips into a thin line, which makes her dimples visible. Then she sighs and walks past me to sit at her desk.

Now that she’s behind me, she asks, “What do you want me to do?”

Relief washes through me, knowing I can’t enact what I have in mind without her. “I want you to conduct an ultrasound on Yolie for me.”

I hear Oasis drum her fingers on the desk. “I bet she’s done that already.”

“No. I want to intercept the result.”

The lady lets out a skeptical chuckle. I still do not turn to face her as I cross my hands on my chest.

“Okay,” she concedes before I hear her leave her chair to stand beside me. “My conscience is going to beat me, but I’ll meet her doctor now and get you the result. Probably will take minutes.”

She heads forward for the door.

“One more thing,” I suddenly voice out. That stops her in her tracks before she even places her hand on the doorknob.

“What now, Mellow?” She drawls while turning to me.

“I need you to kidnap her.”

Oasis gasps. “What the fu―”

She glances back as if cautious that someone watched her through the door, then she hurries to my side, peering at my face with eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. “What the fuck, Mells, are you insane?”

I smile. “No, I’m perfectly sane.”