My Ex-Husband Begged for Mercy

Dawn had not yet broken when I was jolted awake by familiar sounds drifting through the hallway.

They were coming from the guest room.

Again.

I lay motionless beneath the covers, staring blankly at the ceiling while every muffled laugh and whispered murmur reached my ears. My husband was sleeping with another woman under the same roof we had once called our home, and there was nothing left inside me that could still be shocked by it. The pain was there, sharp as ever, but it no longer came with disbelief. It came with certainty.

I closed my eyes and counted each slow breath until the noises finally faded.

Then I climbed out of bed.

I took a long shower, letting the hot water wash over me until my expression was calm again. By the time I dressed and made my way downstairs, there wasn't a trace of emotion left on my face.

Damien was already seated in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. He looked relaxed, almost cheerful, as though he had enjoyed a peaceful night's sleep.

Vanessa was nowhere in sight.

Without a word, I placed the folder on the breakfast table.

"Good morning," he greeted absentmindedly, barely lifting his eyes from the screen.

"Good morning," I replied evenly. "I finished everything you asked me to sign."

That finally earned his full attention.

His gaze immediately landed on the folder, and unmistakable satisfaction flashed across his face. He grabbed it almost greedily, flipping it shut without bothering to inspect a single page. He trusted that I had obeyed him.

"Excellent," he said with obvious pleasure. "This should guarantee the merger goes through. The board will be very pleased."

He stood and walked around the table until he was standing beside me.

Before I could react, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close.

Every instinct screamed at me to shove him away.

Instead, I remained perfectly still.

"You've handled everything surprisingly well," he murmured before pressing a kiss against my forehead. "I know having Vanessa stay here hasn't been easy, but all of this is for the company. In the end, it's for our future."

"Our future," I repeated with a faint smile that never reached my eyes. "I understand."

He leaned back just enough to study my face.

"Our wedding anniversary is only two days away," he said. "Tell me what you'd like. Anything at all. Consider it my gift to you."

I searched his face.

Once, those eyes had been the safest place I'd ever known.

Now I saw nothing but lies.

"I only want two things," I answered quietly. "First, I want Ethan released from prison."

He remained silent.

"And after everything we've been through..." I continued, lowering my gaze, "I'd like us to get away for a while. Just you and me. Losing the baby nearly destroyed us. Maybe we could start over somewhere peaceful. The Maldives, perhaps."

For the briefest instant, hesitation crossed his face.

Then his charming smile returned as though it had never left.

"Done," he replied smoothly. "I'll call the prison today. Ethan will be released on our anniversary. Think of it as my present to you."

Relief spread across my features, though every bit of it was carefully rehearsed.

"Thank you."

"As for the vacation," he continued, "I think that's exactly what we need. Go ahead and make whatever reservations you want."

He glanced toward the hallway.

"Unfortunately, that will have to wait a little. Vanessa and I need to leave town today for a few days. We've got business meetings related to the merger."

"I understand," I said. "Travel safely."

He picked up his briefcase, tucked the folder beneath his arm, kissed my cheek, and walked out without another glance.

I stood by the window until his car disappeared beyond the gates.

The second it was gone, I sprang into motion.

I hurried upstairs and packed a single travel bag.

There wasn't room for sentimental things anymore.

I packed only what mattered: my passport, a few changes of clothes, the envelope filled with cash from selling my jewelry, and the documents Adrian had instructed me to keep.

Nothing else.

The following morning, I drove straight to the prison.

Every minute I spent in the waiting area felt like an hour.

My heartbeat echoed painfully inside my chest until a corrections officer finally stepped into the room.

"Ethan Carter."

I stood so quickly my chair nearly tipped over.

A moment later, my younger brother emerged through the heavy steel doors.

He looked nothing like the man I remembered.

His face had grown pale, dark shadows circled his eyes, and he'd lost enough weight that his clothes hung loosely from his frame.

But he was alive.

That was all that mattered.

"Kat?" he asked, confusion filling his tired voice. "What are you doing here? They told me someone posted bail."

I hurried to him and took hold of his arm.

"We're leaving."

He frowned.

"Leaving? What are you talking about? Where's Damien?"

"There isn't time to explain."

I tightened my grip and guided him toward the exit.

"Please, Ethan. Just trust me."

He searched my face for answers but didn't resist.

Outside the prison gates, a black SUV waited by the curb exactly where Adrian had promised it would.

I opened the rear door.

"Get in."

Ethan obeyed, still looking bewildered.

Once we were both inside, I leaned toward the driver.

"Take us to the private terminal."

The SUV pulled smoothly into traffic.

For several minutes, neither of us spoke.

Finally, Ethan broke the silence.

"What happened?" he asked quietly. "Kat... what did you do?"

I reached across the seat and took his hand.

"I finally chose us," I answered. "We're not going back."

He didn't ask another question.

Perhaps something in my voice told him the truth was too painful for that moment.

By the time we reached the airport, a sleek private jet was already waiting on the runway.

Adrian had kept his promise.

The aircraft wasn't registered under his name but under one of several corporations he controlled, making it nearly impossible for anyone to trace.

We boarded immediately.

Within minutes, the engines thundered to life.

As the plane accelerated down the runway before lifting into the sky, I watched the city grow smaller beneath us until the streets blended into tiny ribbons and the buildings disappeared beneath the clouds.

Only then did my phone begin to vibrate.

Damien.

I answered.

His voice exploded through the speaker before I could say a word.

"Where the hell are you?" he shouted. "I'm sitting here with the lawyers, and you've completely screwed this up! You gave me the wrong file, Vivian. These aren't the transfer documents. They're charity auction records from three years ago. Have you completely lost your mind?"

I looked out the window at the clouds drifting past.

"Oh," I replied calmly. "I'm sorry. I must have picked up the wrong folder. I've been distracted lately. You know how difficult these past weeks have been."

"Distracted?" he yelled. "This merger involves millions of dollars! I need those documents immediately. Bring them to the office right now. Everyone's waiting."

"I'm afraid I can't."

My voice remained perfectly steady.

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I'm occupied at the moment."

"I don't care what you're doing!" he snapped. "Send someone. Hire a courier. Scan the papers and email them. Just fix this."

I let him finish before speaking again.

"The real documents are still in your office."

Silence.

"They're inside the top drawer of your desk," I continued. "Right beside your anniversary present. Just have someone retrieve them."

Another pause followed.

Then his suspicion sharpened.

"Fine," he said slowly. "But where are you?"

A smile spread across my face.

"I booked a trip."

"What?"

"The tickets are in that same drawer."

His breathing became heavier.

"Happy anniversary, Damien."

I let the words settle before adding the final sentence.

"I sincerely hope this is the last time we ever speak."

"Vivian, wait. What are you talking about? You—"

I never gave him the chance to finish.

With one tap, I ended the call.

The screen went dark.

So did the last thread tying me to him.