My 1000th Attempt Worked

For Jenna, every anniversary with Mark is a fresh descent into humiliation. On their tenth year together, the ruthless billionaire brings an escort to their gala, demanding Jenna surrender her own clothes to the stranger. Though Jenna’s father sold her into this mafia marriage, she finally demands a divorce. However, Mark retaliates with scandalous photos and a threat: if she leaves, he will cut off the funding for her mother’s vital hospital care.

Chapters

Chapter 4

Before Mom got sick, I really thought life was good.

Mark and I had this chill college thing going. He seemed normal, lowkey. We dated like any regular couple and even talked about the future.

Then Mom caught Dad cheating, lost it so bad she had a brain hemorrhage and ended up in a coma. Keeping her alive cost a fortune.

The hospital needed a signature. Dad, being her husband, was first up.

He flat-out refused. Gave me two options—dump Mark and marry rich, or let Mom die.

I gave in.

Right after Mark baked me a birthday cake—like, actually baked it—I smashed it and tore into him with the cruelest stuff I could think of. Made sure he'd never look back.

We broke up. I dove headfirst into blind dates.

Every rich guy was either dripping sweat or old enough to be my uncle.

Mark saw me at one of those awkward dinners. He smirked, yanked me up, and dragged me to this shiny car. "Isn't it money you want, Jenna? I've got loads."

Then he floored it. We crashed.

I carried him on my back for miles, stumbling down some sketchy road, then blacked out at the hospital entrance.

When I woke up, Dad had already sniffed out how rich Mark's family was.

Next thing I knew, he drugged us, called the press, and turned it into a headline scandal. Mark had no way out.

We got married.

Looking back, I get why he hated me. I dumped him for money, then ended up chained to him anyway.

I stopped blaming him. Just let it go.

***

One day, someone from Mark's crew sent me a photo.

Some girl curled into him, smiling all soft, her eyes crinkling like mine used to.

But this one? He treated her different. No random arm candy this time. He took selfies with her, shared meals, actually looked happy.

It felt like college us—real, easy.

I just texted back: [Congrats.]

If leaving meant he found peace, then good. Divorce was a win-win.

I applied to study abroad. Picked up shifts at Mandy's bar while saving up.

That's when I ran into her.

One of Mark's friends shoved her toward me. "This is Mark's wife. Don't y'all kinda look alike?"

She rolled her eyes but walked over anyway.

"Renee Gwyn. You're Jenna, right?" she said, flashing that fake-sweet grin.

"So weird... why would Mark ever go for someone like you? People say we look alike, but I don't see it. I'm not old or busted. You should just give it up and divorce him."

I shrugged. "Cool. Tell him to file the papers and marry you already."

Continue to next part