
Ex Wife, Please One More Chance
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Amelia's life took an unexpected turn when she learned that she was diagnosed with a terminal illness that left her only six months to live.
Heartbroken and devastated, the last thing she had expected was to be offered a divorce agreement by her husband, Adrian, when she got back home.
Given that their contract has expired and his ex-girlfriend, who was also Amelia's stepsister, has returned, Adrian wanted Amelia to make way for her. But the last thing he had expected was what she requested as compensation for the divorce.
What did Amelia really request as compensation for the divorce?
What happens when Adrian finds out that the reason why he has been keeping his feelings from Amelia was all lies and that who he wants to leave Amelia for isn't who she really is?
What happens when Adrian tries to win back the woman who he has neglected and sometimes mistreated for no reason only to find out that she's diagnosed with a terminal illness and that she has only a month remaining to live?
Ex Wife, Please One More Chance Chapter 1
*Amelia*
I couldn't hold back my tears as I took another glance at what was written on the document I was holding. Six months, that's all I had left to live. I have been diagnosed with Spinal Muscular Atrophy (SMA), the same terminal illness that took the life of my mother three years ago.
For a very long time, I have known that the illness was hereditary, but the last thing I had imagined was also having it.
"Ma'am, we are here already," the voice of the taxi driver sounded from the front seat, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"Ooh, a minute please," I said to the taxi driver as I quickly wiped away the tears on my face, and afterwards I arranged the documents I was holding inside my bag, and with that I paid the taxi driver before getting down and making my way into the mansion where I was leaving.
Getting into the sitting room, I was surprised to see Adrian, my husband, sitting on the couch while manipulating his phone.
"Hey, you are back already," I said to him with a surprised tone, as this wasn't the time he usually came back home, but instead of replying, he shot me a cold glare before turning his gaze towards the centre table where a document was lying with a pen, and with that, he pushed it towards me and muttered, "Sign it."
Not knowing what was written on the document, I walked towards the table to get a proper look at it, and that was when I got the shock of my life. The document he was asking me to sign was a divorce agreement with his signature already on it.
"So you are divorcing me?" I asked him, not believing my eyes.
"Yes, of course, or the name on the divorce agreement – isn't it yours?" He asked me with a cold tone.
"It's because of her, right?" I asked him, and with that he scoffed angrily at me, as he already knew who I was talking about.
I had seen both of them on the television yesterday, him and his ex-girlfriend Melissa, who was no other person than my stepsister.
He had accompanied her to her press conference, where she announced her return to the modelling world after being out of the country for almost three years.
Seeing the way he was holding her during the press conference, I couldn't help but feel jealous; after all, that was the same way he always held me when we were in public.
Coming back home, I had confronted him about it, but he immediately reminded me of something I had almost forgotten about, which was the contract I had signed the day we got married.
Yes, unlike married couples who get married to each other out of love, we only got married to each other because that was what needed to be done at that moment to save the reputation of both families from a very serious scandal that could have ruined both families.
Love was never part of the agreement we signed, and I never made the mistake of expecting that from him at the beginning, but as years went by, I began believing that the agreement no longer mattered due to how real his care felt.
No matter how busy he was, he never missed an occasion when I needed him, even without reason. He always made sure his assistant carried my medicine so I wouldn't be unwell around him.
Whenever he instructed the chief, he only cared about my preferences – whatever I liked, he would eat anything.
With the way he cared for me, it was impossible not to believe that he loved me.
But all that illusion shattered yesterday when I confronted him about how he was holding Melissa, my stepsister, during the press conference. Not only did he remind me about the contract I had signed, which was expiring this year, which was the third year since we got married, but he also made sure to clarify the reason behind his care for me, which I had misunderstood.
My stepsister had taught him how a man should treat his wife; he always prepared the medicines because she usually fell sick just like me. Even after she left, he never told his assistant to stop. As for the food, taste was never important to him. So in other words, he had done everything he had done for me for the past three years so that he wouldn't forget what my stepsister taught concerning how a man should treat his wife.
Now that she has come back, he wanted me to make way for her, not just because our contract has ended but because she has always been the one in his heart all this while.
"You don't have to worry," his voice sounded, snapping me back to reality. "I will make sure to compensate you for all the time you have wasted with me since all this while, so feel free to ask for whatever you want as compensation," he said to me, reminding me that all the three years we had spent together meant nothing to him; it was nothing else but a waste.
Hearing what he had just said, I couldn't help but smile bitterly as I felt my heart shattering into many pieces. I should have known; I should have stuck to the agreement, because if I had done that, I wouldn't be feeling the pain I was feeling right now because someone who didn't have any single feeling towards me was divorcing me. The only pain I could have been feeling right now was the pain of knowing that I was going to die very soon.
Looking him straight in the eyes, I repeated the only word which had made sense to me in what he had just said.
"Anything?"
"Yes, anything," he said in reply. "As long as it's in my power, I will give it to you as compensation for the time you have wasted with me.
"Can we just live as a real married couple for one more month? After that, I'll be gone for good." I asked him while staring into his eyeballs.
"What?" He asked me as his face contorted in confusion.
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Ex Wife, Please One More Chance of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6Chapter 7 Ch. 7
Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels

8.1
Elinor's frail daughter, Cece, died in a sterile hospital room while waiting for her father to take her to Disney World.
But her billionaire husband, Derick, never showed up. At the exact moment Cece's heart monitor flatlined, the hospital TV broadcasted Derick affectionately holding the hand of his mistress and he has booked a clearance of the entire Disneyland to celebrate mistress's daughter's birthday!.
When Elinor confronted Derick with their daughter's ashes, he sneered and accused her of hiding the child just to get his attention. Elinor's heart was torn to shreds. How could a father be so blind and ruthless? Did Kamryn use his power to steal the very kidney that belonged to Cece? Why did her innocent baby have to die for their sick affair?
The suffocating grief inside Elinor finally crystallized into a sharp blade. She wiped the blood from her lips, canceled the simple divorce, and began her ruthless revenge.

9.1
June woke up transmigrated into the body of a ruthless billionaire's toxic, disposable wife.
Before she could even process the massive Beverly Hills mansion, a cold system voice announced she had exactly five minutes of lifespan remaining.
To survive, she was forced to bind with the system and strictly maintain the original owner's "brainless, abusive drama queen" persona to earn hours to live.
She was forced to violently slap hot coffee out of a terrified maid's hands and physically spank her manipulative five-year-old stepson.
When she tried to escape this nightmare by throwing divorce papers at her terrifying husband, Isaac Walton, he simply ripped them to shreds.
Every time she tried to be reasonable or show a hint of kindness, the system tortured her with agonizing cardiac pain, cementing her status as the most hated monster in the family.
The most absurd part happened when she threw a hysterical, system-mandated tantrum over a gossip magazine, and Isaac's icy demeanor suddenly melted.
He gently touched her hair, offering the one thing she desperately needed.
"Stop crying. I'll handle it."
Just as a spark of hope ignited in her chest, the system's critical death warning exploded in her skull: accepting his sympathy would instantly deduct thirty days of her life.
To stay alive, June had no choice but to violently slap away the only hand reaching out to save her, forcing herself to play the greedy villain while her husband's gaze turned dangerously dark.

7.4
I was freezing to death in an abandoned cabin, desperately waiting for my fiancé to save me.
Instead, my phone flickered with a video from my adopted sister.
She was smiling as she confessed that she and my fiancé had orchestrated my kidnapping, and my parents' fatal plane crash, just to steal my family's trust fund.
When I called him with my dying breath, he mocked me for faking a PR stunt and hung up.
I died in the sub-zero blizzard, consumed by absolute despair.
But as a ghost, I watched my greatest business rival, the ruthless billionaire Collins, kick down the doors of my mansion.
He didn't just mourn me.
He shot my fiancé, trapped my sister, and set the entire place on fire, choosing to burn alive in the inferno just to avenge me.
I couldn't understand why the man I had publicly despised for a decade loved me so fiercely, while the people I gave everything to wanted me dead.
Opening my eyes again, I was back backstage on the night I won my Oscar, four years ago.
My fiancé smiled, holding out his arms to hug me.
I pushed him away in disgust, marched straight into the crowded theater, and kissed my billionaire rival on live television.
"Let's get married tomorrow."
This time, I would use him to burn them all to the ground.

8.5
Aileen transmigrated into a dark, unfinished novel as the villainous, abusive wife of a powerful billionaire.
The moment she opened her eyes, her husband's calloused hand was crushing her throat, and her six-year-old stepson was pointing a box cutter at her face, screaming for her to die.
A cold system voice suddenly exploded in her brain, forcing a mandatory mission: save the villainous father and son, or face immediate death.
To survive the system's strict Out-Of-Character warnings, Aileen had to keep playing the role of the deranged, hateful wife.
She was despised by everyone. Her husband threatened to drag her to an asylum, and her terrified stepson scrubbed the floor with his own pajamas just to avoid her wrath.
Things escalated when the novel's original female lead publicly framed Aileen in Central Park, throwing herself onto the grass and clutching her pregnant belly.
"She pushed me. She tried to hurt the baby!"
Archer rushed over, shoved Aileen aside with absolute disgust, and looked at her with the eyes of a murderer.
Aileen felt a bitter wave of exhaustion. She had discovered the original owner's hidden antipsychotic pills; the woman wasn't just evil, she was severely mentally ill and completely broken by this loveless marriage.
Yet, no one cared, and her husband would always choose to believe his childhood sweetheart's fake tears.
Since everyone in this world was convinced she was an unpredictable lunatic, she decided to give them exactly what they expected.
Aileen turned her back on the ridiculous scene, a cold smile forming on her lips.
She was going to stage a massive, undeniable psychological breakdown, using her "insanity" as the perfect shield to play the system and rewrite her fate.

9.0
Seventeen years after going missing, Brooklyn was finally brought back to her ultra-wealthy biological family.
But instead of a tearful reunion, her parents and sisters treated her like infectious garbage, mocking her cheap clothes and calling her a country bumpkin.
They dumped her into a remedial class to hide her away, cut off her allowance, and threatened to lock down her trust fund to force her into absolute submission.
One night, Brooklyn stood in the shadows of the estate and overheard a conversation that shattered everything.
She hadn't wandered off as a child.
Her parents had deliberately thrown her away because a fake fortune teller claimed her birth chart was a jinx to the family's wealth.
They felt zero remorse, only plotting to banish her again the moment she turned eighteen.
Her biological father thought he was putting a leash on a helpless, uneducated girl by cutting off her pocket change.
He had no idea that Brooklyn was the anonymous VIP who casually dropped sixty million dollars on an emerald at the city's most exclusive auction.
He didn't know she was the elusive medical genius that the world's most powerful billionaires were currently tearing the city apart to find.
The last microscopic shred of hope for a family withered into cold ash in her chest.
"Lock down my trust fund?"
She pulled out her encrypted phone and activated her shadow networks, severing herself entirely from their pathetic surveillance.
Since they believed she was a jinx, she was going to show them exactly what a real curse looked like.

9.2
Celestia woke up heavily sedated, her wrists bound tightly to the legs of a grand piano in a cold, opulent room.
Before she could even process the panic, a towering billionaire named Sterling Sinclair IV stepped in, looking at her like a possessed piece of art.
The head maid then handed Celestia a thick surrogacy contract with her perfectly forged signature.
"You are here to bear an heir for Mr. Sinclair," the maid stated flatly.
Celestia screamed that they had the wrong person, but her desperate cries bounced uselessly off the soundproof walls.
Stripped of her clothes, phone, and identity, she was trapped on an isolated island surrounded by high-voltage electric fences and armed guards.
When she furiously fought back, Sterling physically overpowered her, punishing her resistance with brutal, terrifying dominance until she lost consciousness on the marble floor.
She didn't understand who had kidnapped her from her normal life.
Why was her biometric data perfectly faked in a classified dossier?
Who had framed her as a willing, ten-million-dollar premium product for a ruthless billionaire?
Driven by pure survival, Celestia began aggressively consuming raw garlic and bathing in harsh white vinegar to destroy her fertility and repel his touch.
And when Sterling finally reviewed her bizarre, self-sabotaging dietary logs, the terrifying truth hit his calculating mind like a physical blow.
The broken, innocent woman he had been brutally tormenting all week was never his hired surrogate.











