Sorry, Ex-Husband, There would be no Ninth Marriage

I let out a loud, genuine laugh, staring at the hand gripping my wrist. I shook my head, looking up at his furious face.

“I’m not yours,” I said, pulling my arm. His grip was like iron. “In fact, I don’t even know you.”

Brandon’s expression darkened. Before he could snap, Vaughn stepped between us, effortlessly breaking Brandon’s hold.

“Yeah, she’s my date tonight,” Vaughn said, his tone light but his gaze sharp. He placed a hand on the small of my back. “Do you have a problem with that, Brandon?”

Brandon’s hands curled into fists. He opened his mouth, fully prepared to cause a massive scene right there on the pavement.

But then, a piercing scream echoed from inside the lounge.

“Brandon!” Paula shrieked.

Brandon froze. The possessive rage in his eyes vanished, instantly replaced by panic. Without throwing a single backward glance in my direction, he turned and sprinted back inside to his precious first love.

I stood on the sidewalk and laughed. It was a hollow sound, but it felt incredibly freeing. He couldn't even pretend to care about me for a full minute.

“Well,” Vaughn murmured, opening the passenger door of his sports car. “Shall we?”

I slid into the plush leather seat. As Vaughn drove us away, the city blurred past the windows.

“Hmm, interesting,” Vaughn said, breaking the silence. He tapped the steering wheel, glancing at me with a playful smirk. “I know of him, obviously, but I don’t know who his girl is. Are you really not his girl?”

I leaned my head against the cool window. “I’m no one’s.”

Vaughn chuckled, a deep, rich sound. “Is that so? Maybe you should be my girl, then.”

I just laughed it off, closing my eyes and letting the exhaustion wash over me.

The next morning, I was dead asleep on the sofa bed in the apartment when violent banging jolted me awake. The doorbell rang incessantly.

I dragged myself up and peeked through the peephole. Standing in the hallway were two massive men in tailored black suits—Brandon’s security detail.

I cracked the door open, leaving the chain on. “What do you want?”

“Ma'am,” the lead guard said stiffly. “Mr. Sterling demands that you come back to the estate immediately.”

I rolled my eyes. “If he wants me, he has to come and take me himself.”

I slammed the door in their faces and locked the deadbolt.

Less than twenty minutes later, the banging returned. This time, it was louder, accompanied by a voice I knew all too well.

“Victoria! Open this damn door!” Brandon roared.

I sighed, undoing the chain and pulling the door open. Brandon stood there, his chest heaving with barely contained rage.

“Get your things,” he demanded, stepping into the doorway. “You’re coming home right now.”

I crossed my arms, leaning casually against the doorframe. “No, I will not. We are divorced, Brandon. We are not married anymore.”

“I don’t care about a piece of paper!” he snapped.

“Why are you throwing a tantrum?” I asked, offering him a mocking smile. “Is it because you love me? Or is it because you’re just jealous that I can finally replace you?”

Brandon’s eyes flashed. He stepped into my space, backing me up against the entryway wall. A dark, arrogant grin spread across his face.

“No,” he whispered, his voice dripping with toxic confidence. “You can never replace me. You’re mine.”

He grabbed my wrist. “And you’re coming home.”

“If you don’t come willingly,” he added, his voice dropping into a lethal threat, “I will force you. And I will make sure your mother’s hospital funding is cut today. She will die, Victoria.”

I stared at him. He was using a dead woman to blackmail me. He didn’t even bother checking if she was still alive?

I wanted to scream, to spit in his face. But fighting him now would only complicate my escape.

I let out a heavy sigh, dropping my shoulders. “Fine.”

I grabbed my suitcase and followed him to his car. The ride back to the sprawling Sterling estate was silent.

When we finally walked through the grand double doors, Brandon turned to me, his authority restored.

“You’re going to stay here until we get married again,” he ordered.

I looked around the empty foyer. “What about you? Are you going back to Paula?”

“Yes,” he admitted without an ounce of shame. “But I will surely come back for you. I’ll buy you everything to make up for this little rebellion. What do you want?”

I looked him dead in the eye. “I want an island.”

Brandon paused, surprised, but then a smug smile touched his lips. He thought he had bought my obedience once again.

“Okay,” he agreed smoothly. “I'll buy you an island. As long as you stay right here.”

I nodded obediently. “I will.”

I watched him walk out the door to return to the woman he truly loved. I stood alone in the massive foyer, pretending I was going to wait for him.

But as the heavy oak doors clicked shut, I smiled.

A few more days, bye Brandon.