Too Late For Regret: My Ex-Wife's Empire

A week later, I was back in the penthouse. I had been staying at a hotel, finalizing the legal details of my separation. I came back to pick up the last of my personal belongings.

Graves was there, with Alex. He seemed surprised to see me.

"Kimberly," he said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "I thought you were gone."

"I'm just getting a few things," I replied coolly, walking past him towards the bedroom.

Alex stood in the living room, looking uncomfortable. "I... I made some lunch, Mrs. Kramer. Would you like some?"

I glanced at the table. It was a simple salad and sandwiches. In my past life, I would have been touched by the gesture, seen it as a sign of her innocence. Now, I saw it for what it was: a performance for Graves's benefit.

"No, thank you," I said, not breaking my stride.

As I packed my things, I could hear them talking in hushed tones.

"She's still so angry," Alex whispered. "It's all my fault."

"It's not your fault, Alex," Graves's voice was low and soothing. "She's just being difficult. She'll get over it."

I closed my suitcase with a sharp click. When I walked back out, Graves was holding a small, elegantly wrapped box.

"By the way," he said, avoiding my eyes. "Next Friday is Alex's birthday. We're having a small party here. You should come. To show everyone that we're still... amicable."

I looked at him. The sheer audacity of it was breathtaking. He wanted me to attend my replacement's birthday party, in my own home, as a prop to manage his public image.

In my first life, I had refused. I had screamed at him, and he had accused me of being petty and cruel. He had used my refusal to paint me as the villain to all our friends.

This time, I smiled. A small, tight smile.

"Of course," I said. "I wouldn't miss it."

His face registered surprise, then pleasure. He was so easy to read. He thought my compliance was a sign of weakness, a sign that I was ready to accept my new place in his life.

The night of the party was a nightmare I had already lived. The same people, the same fake smiles, the same whispers behind my back. I wore a simple black dress, a stark contrast to Alex's sparkling, revealing gown, a gift from Graves, of course.

I played my part perfectly. I mingled, I smiled, I even wished Alex a happy birthday. People looked at me with a mixture of pity and admiration. "Kimberly is so strong, so dignified," I heard someone murmur.

Then came the moment for the gifts. Just like before, Graves presented Alex with the keys to a brand-new, crimson red sports car. The crowd applauded. Alex squealed with delight and threw her arms around him, kissing him right in front of me.

He looked over at me, a flicker of something-guilt? triumph?-in his eyes.

Alex, high on her victory, walked over to me. "Thank you for coming, Kimberly," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "And thank you for the gift."

She was pointing to a large box on the gift table. I hadn't brought a gift. I knew immediately what had happened. Graves had bought a gift and put my name on it to complete the illusion of a happy, modern family.

In my first life, this was the moment I snapped. I had yelled that the gift wasn't from me, that this whole party was a sham. The scene was ugly. It ended with Graves dragging me into the bedroom and telling me I had embarrassed him for the last time.

This time, I just smiled. "You're welcome, Alex. Why don't you open it?"

She looked smug as she tore at the wrapping paper, expecting another extravagant present. She lifted the lid of the box.

Her smile froze. Then she screamed. A high, piercing shriek that cut through the party chatter.

Inside the box, nestled on a bed of silk, was a dead rat.

Chaos erupted. Alex dropped the box, stumbling backward into Graves's arms, sobbing hysterically.

"She did it!" she shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at me. "Kimberly did it! She's trying to hurt me!"

All eyes turned to me. Graves's face was a thundercloud of fury.

"Kimberly, what the hell is this?" he snarled, holding the crying Alex protectively.

"I have no idea," I said calmly, meeting his gaze. "You're the one who bought the gift, Graves. You put my name on it."

His eyes widened slightly. He knew I was right. But he was trapped. He couldn't admit to our friends that he had faked a gift from his estranged wife.

"Don't lie!" he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "You did this to humiliate her."

"Why would I do that?" I asked, my voice still even. "I'm the one who has been humiliated. But don't worry. I won't be in your way for much longer."

I turned and walked away, leaving him in the middle of the chaos he had created. As I reached the door, I heard his voice, cold and laced with venom, on the phone.

"Dustin? It's time. Go ahead with the plan."

My blood ran cold. That was the call. The call that, in my first life, had set in motion the hostile takeover. The one that led to my death. He was trying to destroy me, to take everything I had built.

But this time, I was ready. I walked out of the penthouse and into the cool night air, a grim smile on my face. Let him try. He had no idea who he was dealing with anymore.