
Chasing back my ex wife
Kiara Mitchell thought she had it all, until her husband Leo brought her world crashing down with divorce papers, after three years of sacrifice.
She abandoned her dreams and career just to be the perfect wife for Leo, yet her devotion meant nothing to him. Instead, he went on to betray her with none other than her envious step-sister.
After being abandoned and broken, she vows to make them pay. She rebuilds her life with the help of Alex, her childhood sweetheart.
Five years later, she re-emerged as a top interior designer. When Leo sees the transformation of his ex-wife, he vows to stop at nothing till he wins her back.
Will Kiara go ahead with her quest for revenge or will she accept him back?
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Chapter 5
Leo's pov
I could hear the door slamming after her, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. I was unable to move, her words playing inside my head. Fifty-five percent?
The next voice I heard,made my skin crawl.
"Isn't this pathetic ?"
Miriam.
I could bet my last buck that she was standing arms folded, her face twisted in a cruel smirk and the chuckling accompanied by that annoying drawl of her voice said, "Leo Williams," dragging it out like it was some kind of hilarious joke. "The mighty CEO, crawling on the floor for his ex-wife's approval. Gosh! I wish I had a camera."
I forced myself to stand, brushing off my pants as I turned to face her. "Miriam, not now."
"Oh not now?" she said, her voice rising in mock disbelief. "Not now? Leo, do you have any idea how ridiculous you look? Crawling to her after everything we've done to build this company?"
"Everything we've done ?" I let out a dry, humorless laugh. "You mean everything you've done to destroy her? Don't act innocent here."
She smiled and shakes her head for a moment and focused on me almost immediately. "Oh, please. Don't act like you're some saint. Were you not the one that was desperately looking for proof of her cheating so that you can send her packing,just because you are having an affair with her step sister? That was all you, Leo. Don't pin this mess on me."
"Enough!" I snapped. My patience was thin. "You are more evil than I thought Miriam and I regret ever leaving Kiara for you. but you see, this isn't about the past anymore. This right now concerns the future of Williams & Co. And unless you have some genius plan to fix this, I suggest you step aside and let me handle it."
Her eyes narrowed. "Fix it? By begging her for help? She is not going to forgive you, Leo. She has move on with her life, so she ain't coming back to you. Even if you give her the control and shares of your company she asked for, do you think that will change her mind? You must be delusional."
I took a step closer towards her and said, "yes I know I want her forgiveness but the main thing at stake right now is saving my company and If you can't see that, you may be the one that is delusional."
She was about to talk back at me when the door to the conference room swung open.
it's Kiara.
She stood poised and composed, cutting through the tension with her gaze like a blade.
"Wow, What a touching scene."her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Should I come back later, or are you two done arguing?"
Miriam turned to her with a disgusted face and said, "Don't flatter yourself, Kiara. You're not as important as you think."
Kiara raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "Oh, I am not? Then why is your loving husband Leo, on his knees, begging me to save his company? Face it, Miriam, You're irrelevant around here."
Miriam stepped forward, her face flushed red with rage. "You little..."
You guys should stop! I shouted, stepping between them. My voice echoed through the room, sharp and commanding. I turned to Miriam, pointing toward the door. "Get out. Now."
"What?" she gasped, her voice trembling with anger. "You're sending me out? because of this bitch?"
"I said you should leave," I growled, my tone leaving no room for argument, "this isn't about you, Miriam; it's about the company.Try to handle your emotions but if you can't then there's the door." I said pointing in the door direction.
She stood for a moment, looking at me with a stunned betrayal. Then with a sharp huff, she stomped out, slamming the door behind her.
After she left, the silence was utterly deafening.
kiara leaned casually against the door frame, arms crossed as she studied me with an amused expression. "Well, that was dramatic."
I ran a hand through my hair, heavy with a sigh. "Kiara, I-"
"Save it," she interrupted in a clipped tone. "If you're about to plead again, save your breath. My offer still stands. "
"Fifty-five percent?" I asked, disbelief flooding my voice. "Do you even know what you're asking for?"
Without breaking eye contact, she shrugged. "I know what I'm asking, and if it is too much of a burden for you, please leave."
"You're asking me to give up control and shares of my company," I said, stepping closer. "That's not leverage, Kiara. That's extortion."
She smirked, tilting her head slightly. "Call it whatever you want, Leo. The fact is, you need me more than I need you. So, are you in or out?"
Her words was like a slap to the face, but I wasn't able to back down also. Not when everything was on the line.
"You're doing this just to punish me," I said, my voice low, "Admit it."
"Punish you?" she repeated, a bitter laugh escaping her mouth. "You think it is about a bloody revenge? Don't flatter yourself, Leo. You don't worth the stress."
"Then Why?" I asked. "Why are you making everything so damn difficult?"
"Because I can," she said it so simple, her expression cold. "Because for once, I'm the one in control. And you? You just have to deal with that."
I stared deeply at her, searching for the woman that once worshipped the foot I match on the floor.. the woman I shared memories with but all I saw was steel.
"What do you want from me, Kiara?" I asked finally, my voice breaking.
for a moment I thought I saw something in her eyes. I must be hallucinating.
"I want what's mine," she finally said, firmly. "I want control. I want respect. And I want you to know that I don't need you. Not now, not ever."
I must admit, her words hit harder than it should, but I wasn't going to back down.
"Fine," I said, letting a deep breath out. "You win. Fifty-five percent is yours."
She blinked, clearly surprised by my sudden surrender.
She studied me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
"Smart choice," she said, turning toward the door.
"And oh, before I forget, I still need one more thing." she said staring at me to see my reaction.
"What could that be again Kiara?"
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8.9
Aliana braved a heavy storm, carrying a warm stew for her fiancé, Ivan, just as she always put his needs before her own. This ingrained habit, a survival mechanism from a cold childhood, was about to shatter into a million pieces. Tonight, everything she believed was a lie.
The iron gates of Ivan's private villa flashed red, denying her entry, and a guard mumbled lies. Ignoring him, she pushed past, a strange orchid perfume leading her to Ivan's car, where a tube of crimson lipstick lay on the passenger seat. Through a window, she saw him with another woman and a small child, an image that felt like jagged glass twisting in her heart.
Then his words cut through the storm, cold and cruel:
"Aliana is just a placeholder."
He was marrying her for her multi-billion-dollar patent, a secret deal made with her own parents, who had sold her for a kickback to buy this very house. Her family, her love, her future-all were a calculated lie.
Her inner wolf, usually fierce, fell terrifyingly silent, replaced by a chilling resolve. The burning acid in her throat wasn't just bile; it was the taste of her shattered devotion.
She didn't want his apologies or his guilt. She wanted his ruin, and as Ivan walked in with a fake smile the next morning, Aliana was ready to deliver it.

8.9
Jason's life was a canvas of broken colors, painted by the harsh brushstrokes of his reality. Craving connection, craving love, but stuck in a home that felt like a prison. So, he broke free, embracing the unknown. New streets, new faces, new demons... and a new lease on life. Little did he know, some encounters would leave scars, while others would expose him to the raw truth."

7.8
Elie Joyce’s entire life was controlled by Ebert Ewing, a ruthless billionaire who held her sick grandmother's survival and her family's freedom in his hands.
But on a freezing, stormy night, he forced her into a scandalous scrap of red silk and handed her over to a notorious, disgusting predator.
"You aren't an escort. You're just a free gift."
Ebert mocked her, using her as a disposable bargaining chip to secure a corporate funding round.
When the predator humiliated her, forced high-proof vodka down her throat, and violently pinned her to the floor, Ebert simply watched with dead eyes.
And when Ebert finally intervened to brutally beat the man, it wasn't out of mercy.
"She is my property. Even if she is trash that I threw away, a filthy pig like you doesn't get to touch her."
Afterward, he dragged her battered, barefoot body into his car, only to kick her out into the torrential rain, leaving her on the dark streets to die.
Standing in the storm, shivering and bleeding from broken glass, the last shred of Elie's hope shattered.
She had sacrificed her dignity and soul, enduring his violent bites and cruel control, just to keep her family alive.
Why did she have to suffer this endless, twisted humiliation for a psychopath who only saw her as trash?
But she didn't break.
Tearing a strip of his expensive shirt to bandage her bleeding foot, Elie gripped her broken stiletto like a knife.
With her eyes turning cold and calculating, she limped out of the shadows.
She was going to survive, and Ebert Ewing would soon realize she was no longer his obedient prey.

9.8
The stench of rot and fear clung to me in the brutal prison pen. I pushed away my uncle’s smile; revenge burned cold. Survive.
The gate screeched, a guard's roar herding us out. A scarred man stopped, gripped my chin, sniffed, then barked, "This one. Pull her out." My time was up.
Dragged to Alpha Baron Stone—who trembled at the Alpha King’s name—my "unusual" scent marked me. Stripped, lashed by silver, scrubbed raw, every trace of me vanished. From my cell, I watched in horror as others were thrown into an arena, torn apart by starved wolves.
My stomach heaved. Why me? Why was I spared *that* gruesome end, only to be prepared for a terrifying king?
An old Omega woman opened my door with bread—a chilling sign I wasn't meant for the arena. A cold resolve solidified: I would survive this hell, remember my uncle’s face, and learn what twisted fate the Alpha King had chosen.

7.3
She was sent to destroy him.
A man feared in the shadows, a mafia lord whose name alone commanded power and blood. Serafina Dunes had one mission: send Rapheal Dekoms to hell.
Murdered by her husband's mistress, Yuanita Serra was ripped from life before her time-only to be reborn as a missionier, and her first task was to kill Rapheal Dekoms. But fate had other plans. What was meant to be a deadly mission became a dangerous game of desire and hate, where every glance and every touch ignited a fire she couldn't control-and threatened to unravel everything he had ever built.

9.2
When Alma's father stood in front of the bulldozers to protest, the energy company's thugs beat him half to death in the mud.
Instead of arresting the attackers, the police handcuffed her bleeding father and threw him into a cruiser.
"Stay back, kid," the officer barked, shoving Alma away.
Her father was denied bail and framed for assaulting an officer. The corrupt mayor just smiled and told her not to cause a scene. Meanwhile, the company mailed her weeping mother a severance check that barely covered a month of groceries.
Alma was forced to watch her family be completely destroyed by men with money and power.
Kneeling in the cold dirt where her father's blood had spilled, she didn't shed a single tear. The panic in her chest died, replaced by a cold, absolute hatred.
She realized that crying wouldn't do anything. In this world, justice didn't exist for the weak.
Years later, Alma stepped onto a prestigious Ivy League campus, her cheap backpack slung over her shoulder.
She was surrounded by the arrogant children of the very executives who ruined her life.
She lowered her head, hiding her dead eyes, and put on the perfect mask of a timid, helpless charity case.
Undergrad was just a training ground, and these elite kids were just her practice dummies. The hunt was officially on.