My Ex-Husband Asked My Hand for Remarriage

Olivia clung to Wyatt’s sleeve, trembling as tears streamed down her face. “It’s all my fault... Don’t be mad at Wyatt...”

Wyatt’s expression darkened. “You’re going to marry me sooner or later. So what if she tried on the dress? Can’t you just let her be happy for once?”

“I said—take it off,” I repeated, enunciating each word with icy clarity.

Then I turned to the nervous boutique staff. “Since when were my wedding dresses available for others to try on?”

The two shop assistants scrambled to undress Olivia. Red welts began forming on her pale arms from the rushed movements.

She wept like a pitiful flower in the rain. “I’m sorry... It’s my fault. I’m cheap... I don’t deserve something this beautiful...”

Suddenly, her knees gave way, and she collapsed to the floor.

Wyatt lunged forward to catch her, then turned and shouted at me, “Aubrey, are you happy now?!”

I sneered and wrinkled my nose in disgust. “Sanitize the dress three times. Don’t leave a trace of her stench on it.”

Covering her face, Olivia fled the store, sobbing.

Wyatt glared at me, his face livid, before storming out and slamming the door behind him.

That night, my assistant, Harper, leaned in close and whispered with a hint of mischief, practically bouncing with excitement. “Miss Milton, guess what? That fake little damsel Olivia—she got hit by a car today! Broke her leg, they say!”

She gestured dramatically. “If you ask me, it's karma! She knew Wyatt was your fiancé and still clung to him like a leech. Acting all innocent and delicate—gross!”

I swirled the wine in my glass, a cold smile tugging at my lips. “Who told you Wyatt was still my fiancé?”

Harper's eyes widened, nearly dropping the fruit platter in her hands. “Wait—Miss Milton, you mean...”

“Go contact the wedding planner,” I said, taking a slow sip of wine. “Change the groom’s name to Aidan.”

“That’s amazing!” she clapped with delight. “Miss Milton, honestly, Wyatt looks decent, but he’s got no boundaries. Always hanging around that fake little flower. He’s nothing but a walking air conditioner—cold to everyone!”

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Even my assistant could see what I couldn’t in my last life. Love really made people blind.

The realization made me sigh quietly.

The next morning, I had just stepped out of my office building when everything went dark—a burlap sack was suddenly yanked over my head!

“Who are you?! Let me go!” I thrashed wildly.

Rough hands shoved me into a vehicle. My back slammed into the doorframe, the pain sharp enough to knock the air from my lungs.

A familiar wave of terror surged through me—memories of the kidnapping in my past life crashing back like a tidal wave.

“I’ll pay—whatever you want, I’ll pay!” My voice shook uncontrollably as hot tears soaked through the blindfold.

But there was only suffocating silence in response.

Then that familiar scent drifted to the tip of my nose—Wyatt's cologne.

My heart sank to the depths of despair. “What... what is it that you really want?” I whispered.

His voice came low and cold as he responded, “Someone paid me to teach you a lesson.”

Even though I had already chosen not to marry him, the cruelty in his tone still tore something inside me.

Crack!

A metal rod slammed down on my leg. The searing pain made my vision blur.

My chest clenched as if someone had split it open, but I gritted my teeth, refusing to call out his name.

I curled into the corner of the van, silent tears soaking through the rough sack.

Just before I lost consciousness, I heard his cold and emotionless voice again.

“Remember this lesson.”

Crack. Crack. Crack.

The iron rod struck my leg with a dull thud—once, twice, three times...

By the fifteenth blow, I could hear my bones shatter.

Then, everything went black.

When I woke up again, I was lying, broken and bloodied, in front of the Milton family gates.