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After Marrying His Rival, My Ex Begged on His Knees Novel Cover

After Marrying His Rival, My Ex Begged on His Knees

After sacrificing her youth and her unborn child for Dustin Delgado, Delia Sullivan is cold-heartedly forced to hand her family heirloom to his mistress. Realizing her ten-year devotion is dead, Delia willingly surrenders the bracelet. But as Dustin flies off on a honeymoon, his formidable, wheelchair-bound arch-rival, Les Simmons, arrives with a vengeful proposition. To retaliate against Dustin, Les invites Delia to City Hall for a shocking marriage of convenience.
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Chapter 2

### Chapter 2

Dustin's pupils contracted sharply.

Gabriella took the earrings and froze, so stunned she forgot to cry.

I looked at Dustin. There was nothing left in my eyes.

"I've apologized. I've handed everything over. Can I go now?"

His thin lips pressed into a hard line, the crease between his brows deepening. He opened his mouth to speak, but Gabriella let out a soft whimper and collapsed against him. "When Delia pushed me earlier, I twisted my ankle. I think it's swelling up."

Dustin scooped her into his arms immediately, setting her down in a chair with exaggerated care.

Then he crouched at her feet and, with hands that had signed hundred-million-dollar contracts, gently massaged her ankle.

The motion was practiced. Like he'd done it a thousand times before.

The music swelled again. Clinking glasses and polished laughter filled the room, the party resuming as if nothing had happened.

I turned and headed upstairs, leaving behind a world of champagne and glitter that had nothing to do with me.

Dustin's gaze stayed fixed on my retreating back, trailing me until I disappeared into the stairwell.

Back in my room, I dug out the stomach medication the doctor had prescribed and washed it down with cold water.

The moment it hit, my stomach seized.

I gritted my teeth through the pain and made it to the bathroom, dabbing an alcohol swab against my still-bleeding earlobes.

The mirror reflected a face drained of all color.

The face of someone who'd finally dropped the mask of strength and had nothing left underneath.

Love, no matter how deep, no matter how consuming, had an expiration date. Even love that had lasted ten years.

I was so exhausted that I sank into a heavy, dreamless dark.

Except it wasn't dreamless.

In the dream, I went back nine years, to a time when Dustin and I were still in love.

The Delgado Group had been hemorrhaging money back then. Dustin, branded an illegitimate son, was tormented at every turn, crushed under Marvin's thumb, practically kept under house arrest. Every day was a fight to survive.

It was my nineteenth birthday. He'd scaled the wall in the dead of night, risking everything just to see me.

He had a souffl tucked against his chest, the skin beneath it scalded red.

When he placed it in my hands, it was still warm.

I cried from the ache of it. "Why would you do something so stupid? If I wanted one, I could buy it myself."

"And you shouldn't have snuck out for me. If Marvin finds out, things will only get worse for you."

He held my hands, his eyes rimmed with red.

"Delia, this is all I can give you right now. But I swear, one day I'll make sure every single day of your life is happy."

I ate that souffl through my tears.

It was soft and fragrant. The best thing I'd ever tasted in my life.

Somewhere between sleep and waking, I felt fingers brushing across my forehead.

I curled tighter, murmuring through the discomfort. "Dustin, I want a souffl..."

I thought I was still dreaming. But when I opened my eyes, a tray sat on the nightstand.

On it was a beautiful souffl cake.

Chocolate, my favorite flavor. Cloud-soft, with a gentle bounce.

Dustin was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"You're up? How did you let yourself get this thin? Anyone who didn't know better would think I'd been starving you."

He hadn't, technically. He'd never deprived me of food or clothes.

I stared at the cake, but I had no appetite at all.

It wasn't the cake I wanted anymore. Just like the man who'd brought it.

Why had he come all this way to deliver it? A lash of the whip, then a piece of candy?

"My stomach hurts. I can't eat."

Dustin reached out and pulled me into his arms.

My body went rigid. I tried to push away, but his arms only tightened.

His other hand pressed gently against my chest, radiating a familiar, searing warmth. "Don't move. Let me rub it for you. Whenever you felt sick before, this is how I'd make it better."

The pain was bad enough that I gave in, letting my head drop, letting him hold me.

"Back at the banquet, why did you stop fighting?"

His voice broke the silence without warning.

I lowered my gaze. My voice was flat, empty of anything.

"You're always telling me to know my place. I gave her the bracelet and the earrings. Shouldn't that make you happy?"

Something complicated flickered through Dustin's eyes.

He gripped my chin and turned my face toward his.

A wave of perfume hit me instantly, a scent that wasn't mine, so cloying it sent my stomach lurching.

"Gabriella and her father did me a huge favor. I owe it to her to take care of her."

"But as long as you stay by my side and behave, diamonds, mansions, I won't short you on any of it."

"You've been good lately. I'll stay tonight. Consider it your reward."

The tone of a man tossing scraps. As if I were nothing more than a canary in a gilded cage.

Before I could react, his scorching breath pressed down against me.

Then a frail voice drifted in from the hallway.

"Dustin, my head is so dizzy. Are you in there?"

The words had barely landed before the door swung open.

Gabriella's face went white the instant she saw us tangled together on the bed. "What... what are you two doing?"

Dustin's arms released me in a heartbeat.

Without a shred of hesitation, he shoved me away.

I hit the floor before I could brace myself, the impact sending the room spinning.

"Delia's stomach was hurting. I was just... helping her."

The excuse tumbled out of him like a reflex.

As if we'd been caught doing something shameful.

Gabriella's eyes were already glistening, her expression pitiful as she drifted closer and looked down at me.

"But Delia's always been perfectly healthy. I've never heard of her having any kind of illness."

Dustin's eyes narrowed to slits.

When he looked at me again, suspicion had pooled in every line of his face.

"Delia. Are you actually sick, or is this another performance for my benefit?"

I picked myself up off the floor. My lips parted, but before a single word could form, his voice cut through like a blade.

"Same as always. You never change. God, you're good at faking it. Disgusting."

I'd stopped expecting anything from him a long time ago.

But hearing those words, my heart, already sunk to the deepest trench, still clenched tight.

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