Dumped By Ex Married To CEO
Celine loves her lover Zack very much. It was so deep that he was willing to introduce her to his father. All he got was a wound. Zack suddenly turned cold, walked away for no reason, then had the heart to return his longing with a rude attitude.
When a status on social media reveals Zack's dark side, which is hungry for women and money, Celine's heart is broken.
What's more surprising is that none of this is a coincidence. Zack wanted to destroy it. But in the midst of the destruction, there was one person who stood silently behind Celine, Arlend. The man who had been harboring feelings, was not willing to see Celine fall too deep.
Just as Celine is about to end her life on the city bridge, Arlend arrives. He saved Celine's body and possibly her soul. From that day on, Arlend vowed never to leave Celine alone again.
But Celine's wound was not finished. When Adiwangsa was threatened with bankruptcy, his position as leader was shaken. And when he chooses to secretly marry Arlend, Zack's shadow hasn't really gone from Celine's side.
How can Celine deal with all this? Between the past, and the man who is now with her.
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Chapter 2
"I'm going to the restroom first," Jenny said, getting up from her seat, leaving Tiffany sitting alone once more.
The sound of Jenny's footsteps faded, growing dimmer, as if pulling away the only support Tiffany had at that moment. The room felt cold; the AC blasted bone-chilling air, yet Tiffany felt a burning heat in her chest. Her mother still lay helpless behind that white door, connected to tubes and machines that pulsed softly, sustaining a life now hanging by a thread.
Her hands trembled as she pulled her phone from her jacket pocket. Dozens of times she had tried calling her father, but only voicemail answered.
"Dad... why won't you pick up my calls?" she whispered hoarsely, tears she had been holding back now forcing their way out, streaming down her cheeks.
The mounting hospital bills also loomed over her, crushing her with bitter reality.
---
Meanwhile, at the end of the corridor, Jenny halted when her foot stepped on something.
Jenny picked it up, her eyes studying it in confusion. "A button?" Her fingers traced the texture of the button. She felt an intricate engraving and discovered the letters "AV" etched in the center of a royal crown silhouette. This was no ordinary button. Its deep black onyx material emitted a mysterious gleam, and its size-slightly larger than typical suit buttons-made it feel significant in her palm.
Jenny glanced behind her, scanning the surroundings to make sure no one else was around.
But the dim, shadowy corridor made it hard to see clearly. Only a faint glow from the emergency light at the far end illuminated the space.
"No one's here. Whose shirt button could this be?"
---
Staring at his reflection in the mirror, his sharp eyes narrowed as he realized he had forgotten to fasten his button.
"W-what? Ah, it must be in my jacket." He strode over and grabbed the jacket lying on the bed. Upon inspecting it, he found the button missing. It was the last button from a special set given by his late grandfather-a symbol of lineage that could never be replaced.
"Oh no! I swear I had the button with me earlier. Why isn't it here now!" He grumbled in frustration, tapping his forehead, trying to think back. Cold sweat began to bead on his temples. He clearly remembered the feel of the button in his hand when he was in a hurry earlier.
"What if... the button fell there?" His eyes widened in shock. He nodded confidently, certain that he had dashed out of the room.
That button was vital. The royal crown logo was exclusive to his family crest.
"No one must find my button! If my family identity is exposed, it'll be a disaster!" he muttered, pressing the gas pedal, accelerating his car.
---
"Empty?" Celine stared blankly into her empty refrigerator. She clicked her tongue in annoyance. If this was the case, she'd have to go shopping at the minimart.
Since the minimart was quite far, Celine chose the red sports car her father rarely used.
After arriving at the minimart, Celine picked up several ingredients for cooking.
A smile lingered on her lips. After double-checking that she had everything, she carried a basket filled with vegetables to the cashier.
Celine took her wallet from her shoulder bag and handed a gold card to the cashier.
After swiping Celine's card, the cashier looked at her hesitantly. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but your card can't be processed. Do you have another card? Or would you like to pay with cash?"
"Huh? What do you mean it can't be processed? Try again," Celine snapped. That gold card was the only asset she always carried with her.
Again and again-the third time-the cashier shook her head. "It's not working. Do you have another card? It seems this one has been blocked." She returned the gold card to Celine.
Celine let out an exasperated sigh. *'Great. All my money is transferred to this gold card,'* she muttered inwardly.
"I'll pay for it. How much is the total?"
Celine quickly turned to see a tall man, his face hidden under a cap.
"Four hundred and fifty thousand rupiah."
He handed over five hundred-thousand-rupiah bills, then simply walked away.
"Wait!" Celine called out, clutching her plastic bag as she chased after the man.
But the stranger who had helped her had already gotten into a taxi and left.
"Whoever he was, I owe him one," Celine breathed a sigh of relief. She had almost been embarrassed, unable to pay for her own groceries just because her gold card was blocked.
Meanwhile, sitting in the back seat of the taxi, the man smiled to himself.
"So... she really is that beautiful."
His voice was unfamiliar, yet it carried a note of satisfaction.
---
It took Celine two hours to cook the stir-fried vegetables. Once it was done, she plated it, garnishing it with sausage and egg toppings shaped into a sweet smiley face.
"I hope Zack likes it," Celine murmured proudly. The taste was perfect. She planned to give it to him for lunch, her beloved boyfriend. The smile on her lips wouldn't fade as she imagined Zack's reaction.
At the University of Indonesia. Celine made her way to the Faculty of Economics. At 9 a.m., Zack would surely still be teaching.
And sure enough, when Celine peeked through the window, Zack was lecturing his students. Her eyes sparkled with affection-finally, she could see Zack again. She had missed him so much. Not long after, the class ended. Several students filed out, glancing curiously at Celine standing in front of the economics classroom as if waiting for someone. Whispers began to ripple among them, making Celine feel slightly uncomfortable, but she ignored it-all for Zack.
Zack walked with his head lowered, adjusting his glasses, until he bumped into someone. He looked up at the person, and Celine?
"You?" Zack asked in surprise, his tone flat, devoid of emotion, causing the smile on Celine's lips to fade slightly. Her sudden appearance made him wary; he glanced around nervously, as if afraid someone might see them together.
"Follow me," Zack said, walking ahead. He had already noticed several students alternating their gazes between him and Celine, clearly curious about who she was.
But the way Zack spoke and walked-as if Celine was a disgrace-pierced her heart.
"Where? Don't run away from me!" Celine called out, annoyed, jogging to keep up with Zack from behind. The man stood around 195 cm tall.
At a secluded spot behind the campus. Only Zack and Celine. Silence filled the space between them, but this time it was suffocating, thick with unspoken tension. Zack kept his back to Celine, his shoulders rigid, as if unwilling to face her.
Unable to bear the silence any longer, Celine gathered her courage. "I brought you lunch," she said, holding out the stacked food container-three tiers-toward Zack.
Zack raised an eyebrow, eyeing the container Celine offered. But he quickly looked away.
"Why are you here?" Zack asked seriously. His voice was colder than before.
"I miss you. Is that not allowed?" Celine replied weakly, tilting her head up to look at Zack, who refused to meet her gaze. She longed to wrap her arms around him, but she held back.
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7.6
Kaylee's family was drowning in debt, and her stepmother locked her inside a freezing bedroom.
To save their bankrupt company, they decided to sell her off to a sixty-five-year-old man with a disgusting reputation.
They cut off her allowance and confiscated the only precious keepsake her dead mother had ever left her.
"Put on the engagement dress, or I will smash your mother's crystal box into a million pieces."
Terrified of the old man, Kaylee risked her life by jumping out of the second-story window into a violent storm.
She hit the muddy ground hard, twisting her ankle and tearing her skin on rusted iron gates as she escaped into the pitch-black night.
Dragging her bleeding bare feet across the cold sand, her lungs felt like they were filled with broken glass.
She didn't understand why she had to be the sacrifice for their endless greed, or how they could be so cruel as to hold her dead mother's memory hostage.
She had absolutely nowhere to go, and the old man's cars were already pulling into the estate to claim her.
Cornered by the blinding headlights of a motorcade on the beach, she threw herself at the feet of Ernest Blackwell, the most ruthless billionaire in New York.
"Marry me! You need a wife, and I need a husband right now!"
To buy her freedom and crush the family that sold her, she chose to sign a twenty-million-dollar fake marriage contract with the devil himself.
7.2
I was securing the diamond clasp of my necklace when the security monitor blinked to life, revealing my husband burying his face between his assistant's thighs.
Just an hour later, Dante Moretti stood by my side at the Gala, playing the part of the devoted Capo, while his mistress smirked at me from across the room in a dress that screamed for attention.
I wanted to leave. I had packed my bags, ready to disappear.
But then the doctor told me the news: I was six weeks pregnant with the Vitiello-Moretti heir.
I thought the baby might save us. I thought it would stop the madness.
I was wrong.
When his mistress accused me of betrayal to cover her own tracks, Dante didn't listen to his wife. He listened to the woman warming his bed.
In a blind rage, the man who swore to protect me struck me down.
I felt the sharp, tearing pain in my abdomen before I even hit the stone floor.
As blood stained my pristine white dress, I realized he hadn't just broken his vows.
He had killed our unborn son.
So, when the opportunity came to detonate the gas line and fake my own death, I didn't hesitate.
I let the world believe Seraphina Moretti died in that explosion.
Ten years later, I returned to a city that thought I was a ghost.
I dismantled his supply lines, froze his assets, and watched his empire crumble piece by piece.
And when he was finally on his knees in the rain, broken and destitute, I stepped out of the shadows.
I didn't come back for his money.
I came back to hand him the ultrasound photo of the child he murdered.
"Hello, Dante."
9.2
After four years locked in a high-security mental ward, Adaline's billionaire husband finally came to see her.
But Carter didn't come to save her. He threw the divorce papers at her face, demanding she make way for his engagement to her adopted sister, Elois.
Adaline couldn't even speak to defend herself.
Her tongue had been mangled, her nails pulled out, and her leg shattered by the asylum orderlies-all paid for by Elois's trust fund.
When Adaline desperately handed Carter her terminal lung cancer diagnosis, begging for just enough money to buy painkillers, he tore it to pieces without a second glance.
"Do not use the city's medical resources as props for your pathetic attempts to avoid signing those papers," he sneered.
He thought her coughing up dark blood was just a cheap trick.
He threw a stack of cash at her face and told her to kiss his bodyguard's muddy boot if she wanted the money to survive.
Her adoptive parents froze all her assets, calling her a violent psychopath, while Elois poured boiling tea on her broken leg and smiled.
Elois had stolen her violin career, her compositions, and her husband, yet everyone treated the monster like a fragile angel.
Why did the man who once loved her turn a blind eye to her deformed hands and bleeding throat?
Why did her own family want her dead so badly?
Lying in the dark, burning with a terminal fever, Adaline knew she only had two months left to live.
Since she was going to die anyway, she would make sure to drag them all to hell with her.
7.9
On my wedding day, my fiancé Connor received an urgent phone call.
He told me a D-list actress had broken her leg on set, then abandoned me right at the altar.
In my past life, I cried until my throat bled, begging him not to leave.
But my tears only brought endless humiliation. My mother and adopted sister mocked me, framed me, and forged my signature to steal my multi-million dollar trust fund.
They kicked me out of the family estate without a single dime.
I ended up freezing to death in the minus-twenty-degree New York blizzard, listening to my mother's voicemail telling me to die in the street as long as I didn't bleed on her carpets.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand why my own blood relatives hated me so much, yet treated an adopted daughter like a precious princess.
The only person who showed me any mercy—draping his wool coat over my frozen corpse and giving me a proper burial—was Connor's ruthless, untouchable uncle, Harding Snow.
Opening my eyes again, I was back in the bridal suite, right as Connor was rushing out the door.
This time, I didn't shed a single tear.
I let him run to his actress, then walked straight into the VIP room to face the most feared billionaire on Wall Street.
"The wedding proceeds as planned, but the groom's name changes to yours."
9.7
What else could Bella Kiretti possibly want?
She had the perfect billionaire husband, the cars, houses,vacations and even the most beautiful children.
Everything was given to her on a golden plate.
But so everybody thought.
With her husband always on business trios and her children now in College, Bella is left home alone most of the time.
Everything was automatically running for her...wake up, eat, scroll through social media, walk the dog and sleep.
Until there was a knock on the door; her twenty year old Nephew,Jack is in town and he wants a place to stay.
"You have grown, and matured."
He was no longer the boy she carried when he was young, he was taller, bigger and his d**k was just the perfect size.
7.7
Alondra woke up choking on synthetic drugs, pinned to a mattress by a massive, sweating VIP guest.
Her adoptive family, the Franks, had deliberately drugged her and offered her as a plaything to secure a ten-million-dollar financing deal.
The sheer terror and humiliation had already killed the original owner of this body.
When the VIP was left screaming on the floor, her adoptive mother and sister didn't care about what she had just endured.
They shrieked that she had ruined their wealth and destroyed their future.
Her adoptive father threw a cheap prepaid card onto the Persian rug like he was feeding a stray dog.
"Take this five hundred dollars and crawl back to the trailer park where you belong!"
They ordered their bodyguards to drag her out by her hair, mocking her as uneducated white trash who would rot in the slums.
The original girl had died in absolute despair, believing she was worthless and unloved.
She never knew she was actually the true biological heir to the Kerr family, the untouchable dynasty that practically owned Wall Street.
But the soul that had just awakened in this fragile body was no longer a weak victim.
It was the soul of a centuries-old European medical assassin.
Alondra calmly shattered the bodyguard's wrist, exposed the Franks' impending bankruptcy, and walked out the front door.
Outside in the cold night, a fleet of bulletproof Maybachs was already waiting to take the real princess home.