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No More Coming Back, Ex-Husband Novel Cover

No More Coming Back, Ex-Husband

9.3 / 10.0
After a horrific accident leaves Eliza comatose, she awakens to a devastating reality: her unborn baby is gone, and her husband, George, is actively plotting her murder alongside her treacherous stepsister, Donna. Having discovered their cruel betrayal, Eliza refuses to play the victim. Instead of seeking justice through the law, she aligns with Nico Thorne, a ruthless billionaire and George’s most feared adversary. By agreeing to marry Nico, Eliza secures the ultimate alliance to ensure her enemies pay in blood.

No More Coming Back, Ex-Husband Chapter 1

Four weeks ago, I almost died at the party organized by my husband to announce our pregnancy.

I was standing at the top of the grand staircase, two months pregnant, waiting for George to announce our news to the world. Then the chandelier fell.

I didn't even have time to scream. The last thing I felt was the crushing weight of glass and steel, and then—darkness.

When I finally floated back to consciousness, I couldn't move. My body felt heavy, like it was buried under sand. I couldn't open my eyes, but I could hear.

When I woke up, I couldn't move. I was trapped in the dark, my body heavy as lead.

But I could hear.

“Why is she stabilizing?”

George. My heart gave a weak flutter. He was here. He stayed.

“I didn't pay you to save her,” he hissed, his voice dripping with ice. “I paid you to make sure she never woke up.”

I froze. The beeping of the monitor was the only sound in the room.

“Mr. Caldwell,” the doctor stammered. “It’s a miracle she survived. The swelling—”

“It’s a disaster!” George snapped. “Do you know how inconvenient this is? The board is waiting. The insurance payout is pending. And Donna is waiting in the car.”

Donna. My stepsister. My best friend. The woman who held my hand when I found out I was pregnant.

“She’s expecting a widow, not a husband with a vegetable for a wife,” George continued. “Fix this. Put her back under. Overdose her. I don’t care.”

“The medication…” the doctor hesitated. “It’s dangerous.”

“I. Don’t. Care.”

My world shattered. The man I loved… he didn’t just want me gone. He was erasing me.

“And the… other matter?” George asked, his tone bored.

“The pregnancy?” The doctor sighed.

I strained to listen, my internal scream rising. My baby. Please, not my baby.

“Terminated on impact,” the doctor said flatly. “The trauma was catastrophic. We had to perform an emergency hysterectomy. She lost the child, Mr. Caldwell. And she will never carry another.”

Dead.

My baby was dead.

And I was barren.

The grief hit me harder than the chandelier ever could. I wanted to wail, to tear the room apart, but I was paralyzed.

“Perfect,” George laughed. A cold, cruel sound. “I never wanted that brat anyway. It was just a prop to get the grandfather’s trust fund. With the kid dead and her barren, she’s useless.”

He checked his watch.

“Finish her off, Doc. Make it look like heart failure. I have a dinner reservation with Donna, and I don’t intend to be late.”

“I need ten minutes to prepare the syringe,” the doctor whispered.

Footsteps. The door clicked shut.

I was alone with my husband.

He walked to the side of the bed. I felt his hand brush a stray hair from my forehead.

“You always were difficult, Eliza,” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. “You should have just died on the floor. You would have saved us both the trouble.”

He chuckled darkly.

“But don’t worry. Donna is already pregnant. She’ll make a much better Mrs. Caldwell.”

He patted my cheek, sharp and stinging.

“Goodbye, Eliza.”

He turned and walked out the door, whistling a tune.

Panic, raw and primal, flooded my veins. I had ten minutes. Ten minutes before the doctor came back with a syringe full of death.

I had to move. I had to wake up.

Move, I screamed at my fingers. Move, damn you!

I focused every ounce of my will, every shred of hatred and grief, into my right hand.

Twitch.

My index finger moved. Just a fraction.

Then my eyelids fluttered. The harsh hospital light pierced my retinas, blinding and painful.

I gasped, a dry, rasping sound that tore through my throat.

The door opened.

The doctor walked in, a syringe in his hand. He froze when he saw my eyes open.

“Mrs. Caldwell?” he whispered, his face draining of color.

I tried to speak, but my voice was a croak. I forced the words out, desperate and broken.

“Don’t… kill me.”

He took a step back, the syringe trembling in his hand. “I… I have orders. George… he’ll ruin me.”

“I’ll pay you,” I rasped, tears streaming down my face. “Double. Triple whatever he gave you. Just… let me live.”

He hesitated, looking at the door, then back at me. “He wants you dead, Eliza. If he finds out—”

“He won’t,” I begged. “Say I’m in a coma. Say I’m vegetable. Just… don’t kill me. Please.”

The doctor shook his head, sweat beading on his forehead. “I can’t. George owns this hospital. He owns me. If you live, I die.”

He raised the syringe, his eyes full of pity but his hand steady.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Caldwell. It will be painless.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the needle.

Bang.

The door flew open, slamming against the wall.

“Step away from her.”

The voice was deep, commanding, and dangerously calm.

The doctor jumped, dropping the syringe. It shattered on the floor.

I opened my eyes.

Standing in the doorway was a man in a charcoal suit, filling the frame with a presence that sucked the air out of the room.

Nico Thorne. George’s sworn enemy. The billionaire I had rejected three years ago to be with George. The man whose heart I broke to marry a monster.

“M-Mr. Thorne?” the doctor stammered, backing away. “What are you doing here? This is a restricted—”

“Get out,” Nico said. “Before I decide to use that shard of glass on you.”

He scrambled past Nico and ran down the hall.

Nico kicked the door shut and locked it. He looked at the IVs, the bruises, the emptiness in my eyes where my light used to be.

“Look at you,” he said softly. “I told you he was a snake, Eliza. You didn’t listen.”

I tried to turn away, shame burning through the pain. “Did you come… to gloat?”

“No.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing the tear from my cheek. His touch was warm, unlike the coldness of the room.

“I came to make a deal.”

I stared at him. “A deal?”

“George thinks you’re going to die tonight. He’s already planning the funeral. He’s already celebrating with your sister.”

The rage flared in my chest again, hot and suffocating.

“What… do you want?” I whispered.

He smirked, a dangerous, predatory curve of his lips.

“You rejected me once, Eliza. I won’t let that happen again.”

He held out his hand.

“Marry me. Be my wife. And I will give you the world to destroy him with.”

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No More Coming Back, Ex-Husband of Contents

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5
Ch. 6
Ch. 7
Ch. 8
Ch. 9
Ch. 10
Ch. 11
all

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