My Coldhearted Ex-Husband Demands A Remarriage

Connor stared at the gold-leaf ice cream. He swallowed hard, his little throat bobbing, but he didn't reach for it. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked up at Erika, waiting for her permission.

Erika felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead.

She looked at the ice cream, then at Doyle's unreadable face. She thought of the toilets she had scrubbed, the bruises on her arms, the threats he had made.

"No," Erika said, her voice trembling but hard. She pulled Connor another step back. "We don't want anything from you."

Doyle's hand froze in mid-air.

The muscle in his jaw feathered. The brief moment of warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by a chilling frost.

He didn't argue. He simply turned his hand over and dropped the thirty-dollar ice cream straight into the metal trash can beside him.

Taryn saw her opening. She quickly plastered on a sweet smile and stepped up to him, sliding her hand through the crook of his arm.

"Doyle, darling," she cooed loudly, making sure the growing crowd of onlookers heard her. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming to meet me? Let's get out of here. These people are ruining the mood."

Doyle looked down at Taryn's hand on his coat.

He violently jerked his arm away, stepping back as if she had a disease.

"Don't touch me," Doyle said, his voice carrying clearly over the noise of the park.

Taryn's smile froze. "Doyle... what are you doing?"

Doyle looked at the crowd, then back to Taryn. His eyes were dead. "I am here to inspect the commercial real estate properties bordering the park. My presence has nothing to do with you."

He paused, his voice dropping an octave, dripping with ice. "In fact, Ms. Slattery, we have no personal relationship whatsoever. Stop calling the paparazzi to stage photos."

The crowd gasped. Several teenagers immediately pulled out their phones, recording the humiliation.

Taryn's face drained of all color. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She looked around at the laughing faces, tears of pure mortification welling in her eyes. She turned and ran down the path, her heels clicking frantically.

Erika watched the scene with dull eyes. She didn't care about Taryn. She just wanted to go home.

She bent down to pick up Connor.

But as she straightened up, the world suddenly tilted violently on its axis.

The sky spun. A high-pitched ringing pierced her ears.

The days of inhaling toxic bleach, the heavy lifting, the lack of sleep, and the fact that she hadn't eaten a full meal in a week all crashed down on her at once.

Her vision went completely black.

Her knees buckled.

"Mommy!" Connor's terrified scream echoed in the void.

Erika's body went limp, falling backward like a broken doll. She hit the hard stone pavement with a sickening thud.

The crowd shrieked, scattering backward.

Connor dropped to his knees, grabbing Erika's face, sobbing hysterically.

Doyle had been turning to leave. At the sound of the thud, he whipped his head around.

When he saw Erika lying motionless on the ground, her face ashen, his heart stopped beating.

The cold, calculating CEO vanished.

Pure, unadulterated terror ripped through his chest.

"Erika!" Doyle roared.

He shoved two bystanders out of the way, sprinting across the pavement. He dropped to his knees so hard the fabric of his trousers tore.

His hands shook violently as he reached out, pressing his fingers to her neck to find a pulse.

Her skin was freezing.