My Ex Husband Enemy is my Mate

Chapter 2

Donna

I rushed out of the hall, my chest burning, tears running hot down my face. My heels clicked against the pavement outside, too loud, too sharp, like they were echoing the storm inside me. I didn't care who saw me. I just needed to breathe, to get away from Marc, from my sister, from the sight of them tangled together, like I was the stranger in their story.

And then I collided with someone.

Strong hands steadied me before I could fall. “Careful” a voice said firmly.

I looked up, blinking through the blur of my tears. It was Mr Blanco, he was on his phone, but the second his eyes met mine, his expression shifted. Concern replaced the usual coolness he carried.

“Donna?” He said,his voice low, “what's wrong?”

I couldn't answer. The words lodged in my throat. All I could do was shake my head as fresh tears spilled down my cheeks. My body trembled, and before I could realize what was happening, he pulled me into his arms.

The warmth of his embrace undid me. I cried against his chest, my sobs muffled by the fabric of his suit. He didn't judge me. He didn't push me away. He didn't judge me. He just held me, his hand resting lightly on the back of my head as if he understood the weight I was carrying.

“It's all right,” he murmured. Just let it out.”

I clung to him, my heart breaking all over again. For the first time in so long, someone was letting me fall apart instead of expecting me to stand tall.

But then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed flashes of light. I turned my head slightly and saw them, paparazzi, lurking at the edge of the parking lot, cameras raised, eager to capture the Alpha’s wife crying in the arms of his rival.

Panic sliced through me. I shoved away from Blanco abruptly, wiping my face with shaky hands. “No…I can't…”

“Donna,, wait…” he began but I was already running, the night air whipping against my wet cheeks.

I heard footsteps and then the sound of a car engine. Moments later, his sleek black car pulled up beside me. The tinted window rolled down, and Blanco leaned out, his voice urgent.

“Get in please, don't let them follow you like this,”

I hesitated. My body frozen between fear and desperation. Then another Camera flash went off behind me, and I panicked. Without another thought, I yanked the door open and slid into the passenger seat.

Blanco didn't say anything at first. He just drove, his jaw tight, his hands steady on the wheel. The silence was almost unbearable..My breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps as I tried to stop myself from crying again, but the weight of everything pressed down harder.

By the time he pulled into the underground garage of a hotel, I was exhausted. He parked and turned to me. His eyes softened immediately when he saw the state I was in.

“Donna,” he said gently. “What happened?”

The question ripped the thin thread holding me together. I bent forward, covering my face with my hands, dry-heaving through sobs. The words tumbled out into broken pieces.. “I.. I saw him. Marc. with someone. Not just anyone..my sister, my own sister..”

Blanco's face darkened. His hands curled into fists on his lap. “That bastard” he spat. “That useless,arrogant, pathetic excuse for a man”

I almost flinched at his harshness, but the anger wasn't directed at me, it was all at Marc. Blanco leaned back, shaking his head, his eyes flashing with fury. “He doesn't deserve you Donna. He never did. A man who treats his wife that way? He’s a loser. A weakling. The title ‘Alpha’ doesn't make him a man.”

Despite myself, a small broken laugh slipped out. The way Blanco said it, with such raw conviction, made the knot in my chest loosen just a little. He looked at me then, his eyes softening when he heard the sound.

“There's that laugh..” he said with a faint smile. “I knew it was there somewhere”

I wiped my cheeks, still shaking. “You don't understand. This isn't the first time I caught him..And yet I stayed. I feel so stupid.”

“You're not stupid. Marc has always been a fool. I have no idea what you ever saw in him.”

I chuckled. He really did hate my husband.. .

“Why?” Blanco suddenly asked, his voice careful now, cautious. “Why did you stay?*

I swallowed hard, my mind going back to a time when I needed my mother and didn't have her, the time when my father cried himself to sleep every night before remarrying.. “Because I don't want a broken home. I lived through that once already. I know what it does to children, to families, I didn't want to repeat it. I thought staying was better…”

He leaned closer, his gaze steady, his voice quiet, but sharp as a knife. “Donna, listen to me, it's better to have a broken home, than a broken heart. Homes can be rebuilt. Hearts…sometimes they can't”

The words hit me like a wave. No one had ever said it so simply before. My chest ached with the truth of it.

Blanco stood, poured a glass of wine, and placed it gently In front of me. “Drink, you need something to calm you”

He called room service for food, and soon we were sitting across from each other with plates of pasta and a bottle of wine between us. I hadn't eaten since morning, but the food felt heavy in my stomach. Still, his company made it easier.

We talked, at first,, it was light about the party, about people we both found ridiculous. I laughed more than I thought I could that night. Then slowly, the conversation shifted. We spoke about our childhoods, about the strange loneliness that success couldn't fix. I was surprised to find how much we had in common,, our strained families, the way of expectations, the way we both carried secrets we couldn't share with the world.

For the first time in years, I felt seen. And by the man that was supposed to be my enemy.

Blanco leaned back in his chair, watching me closely. “You know you're stronger than you think,” he said softly. “You’ve been carrying so much alone. You deserve someone who actually values that strength instead of tearing it down.”

My hand skipped,and when his hand brushed mine across the table, I didn't pull away.

One moment we were laughing, the next, we were staring at each other in silence. Something electric filled the air. He leaned in slowly, giving me the chance to stop him. But I didn't. I met him half-way.

The kiss was hard, desperate, a clash of pain and longing. My fingers curled into his jacket, his hand cupped the side of my face. It felt wrong and right all at once, like drowning and breathing at the same time.

But then, my stomach lurched, I tore away from him suddenly, clapping a hand overy mouth. Panic surged. “Oh God”

I barely made it to the bathroom before I threw up. My body covulsed as everything I’d eaten and drunk came rushing out. I leaned over the sink, shaking, humiliated.

Blanco was there, instanty holding my hair back, rubbing my back gently. “It's okay.” he murmured, his voice calm. “Don't fight it. Just let it out”

Tears filled my eyes again, not from sadness this time, but from the raw humiliating mess of it all.

How on earth had things gotten this bad?