Dear Ex Wife Please take me back (Athena and Alex) novel Chapter 122

ATHENA

Leah stares at the dress like it's made of poison.

I could poison it, but that would have been too merciful.

Her hands tremble as she clutches the dresser behind her for balance.

“You’re bluffing,” she whispers, her voice cracking beneath the weight of panic. “You can’t- none of this-this isn’t legal!”

I take another step closer and smile. It’s not kind. It’s not warm. It’s the smile of a woman who’s been pushed too far, who’s crawled her way through hell and came back with fire in her veins.

“Oh, sweetheart,” I say, leaning in until our noses almost touch, “do I look like I care about what’s legal? I think you and I already crossed that line. ”

She flinches.

“ You know the first thing that hit me when I found out what you had done? I wanted to drown you the way you did to me. But then I realized there was a better way.

Whatever you love, I’ll take it. Every fucking thing attached to your name, I will rip it from you and burn it to ashes. Everything you've been craving, will be in the palm of my hands.

As for the dress, Alex will probably donate it or keep it. I don't know, you did steal from him after all and between us girls, he's not very happy.”

Her chin wobbles. “You're lying! Alex loves me! He wants to marry ME! Besides, you don’t even know what I have.”

This has to be the most delusional person I've ever met.

I hold back a laugh and reach into my bag.

She tenses at movements.

I pull out a sleek black folder, flipping it open with a dramatic flair before tossing it at her feet. Papers scatter across the marble tiles, white sheets covered in stamps and signatures.

I crouch down beside her, picking up one of the pages and waving it in front of her face. “My bad,” I mock.

“You’re right. You don’t have anything anymore. While you thought you were authorizing your fairytale wedding purchases, you were actually signing off your properties. I mean, how were you a talented surgeon if you're this dense?”

She stares at the documents, and I see it, the exact moment she realizes what they are. The deeds to her properties. The transfer confirmations. The approval stamps.

“You bitch,” she breathes.

“I put up everything in your name for sale,” I say with pride. “Turns out the Kings were eager to buy. They’re turning your penthouse into an animal shelter. Cute, right? Homeless dogs living in your closet space. Rayen might even start a YouTube channel to pass time.” I laugh.

Her knees give out and she collapses into the chair.

I lean in close, whispering against her ear,

“And all that money? Every single cent you have, will go to the child you murdered. You worthless bitch.”

Leah’s lip quivers. “That wasn’t-”

“Don’t,” I snap, suddenly cold. “Don’t you dare speak.”

I straighten up, grabbing the yellow dress and flinging it at her face.

“Now, dress the fuck up. Or I’ll have to force my hand.”

I take a step back, my arms crossed, watching her with hot unblinking fury.

“And trust me,” I add, my eyes locked on her shaking form, “I’m pissed.”

She doesn’t move.

I grab a glass of water from the table and pour it slowly over her ruined makeup, letting it drip down her cheeks like tears.

“There,” I say softly. “Now you really look the part.”

She gasps and jerks back, but I’m already turning away.

“You have five minutes, Leah. Don’t test me.”

I walk toward the door,

In tears and humiliation with no other choice left, Leah dresses up and walks to the hall.

Five minutes later and the doors creak open.

The music starts, soft, classical, elegant. A sound fit for a funeral march.

I stand near the back of the grand hall, watching as Leah takes her first step into the spotlight.

The yellow dress hangs off her awkwardly, cheap and wrinkled, a far cry from the designer gown she’d dreamed of. Her face is swollen, her lip split, mascara trailing down her cheeks like a haunted doll.

And the best part?

Every damn camera is on her.

Just like she's always wanted.

Hundreds of guests turn their heads.

Some gasp.

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