Revenge On My Ex-husband

Chapter Six

Drake's POV.

Days after the Incident at the dinner party, no one brought the matter up. Lora acted well being my contract wife but I still felt guilty of that night.

Her mother had got discharged, so we headed to her apartment.

On getting there, Lora welcomed me to the place where she grew up.

The fire burned low, its soft glow flickering across the sitting room. I stared into the flames, hearing them crackle, but all I felt was silence. Lora sat across from me, her hands folded neatly in her lap, the curve of her stomach beginning to show through the folds of her gown.

I should have kept quiet. I rarely spoke of the past, especially not of her. But tonight, something in me cracked.

“I don’t talk about her often,” I said, my voice rasping lower than I intended. My eyes stayed on the fire; I couldn’t face Lora just yet. “But I think… you should know.”

Her head tilted, her voice soft. “Your mother?”

A knot formed in my chest. I nodded once. “She was everything. Strong, gentle. She carried me when the world turned its back. But sickness came fast, like a thief in the night. I was helpless, Lora. Nothing I did could save her.”

The words fell heavy, choking me. I clenched my fists, swallowing the ache.

Warmth brushed against me. Her hand. She laid it over mine, small but steady. For a moment, I almost pulled away, having that old habits of shutting people out but instead, I let the comfort seep in. After all, I need it.

“I’m sorry, Drake,” she whispered. “Losing a mother is like losing a part of yourself.”

Her eyes held mine, shimmering with understanding. And I realized she knew pain too.

“You’re lucky,” I said softly, though my lips twisted with something bitter. “You still have yours.”

Her chest rose, full of emotion. “Yes. And every day, I thank the moon that I was able to save her. She was on the brink once, but I held on, I fought for her, and somehow… she lived.”

As if on cue, her mother’s laughter rang faintly from the kitchen. A moment later, she entered with a tray of tea, her presence warm, grounding. She placed it on the table and fussed over me as if I were her own.

“You look thin,” she said, pouring me a cup before her daughter. “A man like you needs strength.”

I blinked at her, thrown off guard. No one had fussed over me in years. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Her lips curved into a smile. “Not ma’am. Call me Mama. You’re family here.”

That word. *Family.* It hit deeper than any sword. I lowered my head, hiding the sudden sting in my eyes.

Later, when the house quieted and only the firelight remained, I found myself speaking words I’d long buried. “vivian is a dangerous person…” My voice trailed. My jaw clenched. “My Dad got married after mom's death.”

Lora stilled. I felt her eyes on me, sharp with questions.

“I don't want her,” I said firmly. “But she refuses to accept it. She’ll use anything, anything, to get attention.”

Her lips pressed together, but she said nothing. Not yet.

Then her hands tightened, and she spoke in a rush. “Then I should tell you too. Jackson… he was my husband. My ex-husband.”

Her words were knives, but not for me—for her. I could hear the wound in her voice, raw and unhealed.

“He left me for Chloe,” she continued, voice breaking. “Your stepsister. He cast me aside like I was nothing. The betrayal nearly destroyed me.” She choked back a sob. “That’s why I guard my heart so fiercely.”

Without hesitation, I reached across and covered her hands with mine. “Lora, listen. You’re not nothing. Not to me. And as long as I breathe, no one will treat you that way again.”

Her eyes searched mine, desperate for truth. And I gave it to her, unflinching. She leaned against me then, trembling, and I wrapped her in silence, vowing without words that I would never let her fall again.

The weeks slipped by, but change came with them. Her pregnancy could no longer be hidden, the swell of her belly was a constant reminder of the life she carried. My instincts sharpened; I found myself watching over her like a hawk. She argued, of course, claiming she could handle herself, but I couldn’t help it.

When people stared in the grocery market, my hand found its way to her back, a quiet claim, a warning. When her strength wavered, I was there to catch her. It wasn’t duty, it was something more that I want to do. Something I hadn’t let myself name.

Her mother treated me as though I belonged. And for the first time in years, I began to believe maybe I did.

But peace never lasts.

Vivian’s shadow stretched long.

She cornered me once outside the council chambers, her perfume sweet, her smile sharper than a blade.

“You think she makes you better,” she whispered, eyes gleaming. “But I know what you did. And unless you want the whole world to know, you’ll do as I say.”

My teeth ground together. “I owe you nothing, Vivian.”

“You owe me *everything*.” Her laughter was soft, poisonous. “One word, Drake, and she’ll hate you. They all will.”

I walked away, refusing to give her satisfaction. But her words clung like chains, choking me.

That night, I barely touched my food. Lora’s eyes, always perceptive, narrowed on me. “What’s wrong?” she asked softly.

“Nothing,” I lied, forcing a smile. “Just tired.”

She wasn’t fooled, not completely. But instead of pressing, she placed her hand over mine. Her warmth spread through me, steadying. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

I almost told her. Almost. But then I looked at her belly, at the fragile hope shining in her eyes. And I couldn’t. I wouldn’t let Vivian poison this. Not yet.

So I simply squeezed her hand back and whispered, “I’ll protect you, Lora. No matter what it takes.”

Her smile was faint, uncertain, but she let it go.

That night, when the house was asleep, I stood at the window, staring out into the moonlit garden. My reflection looked hollow. Vivian’s threat echoed in my skull.

I glanced at the bedroom. Lora lay curled on the bed, her hand resting over her stomach, peace softening her features.

But even as the vow burned in me, I knew it wouldn’t be simple. Vivian never played fair. And one day, the truth I was hiding would cut deeper than any of her lies.

The next morning, a knock rattled the door. When I opened it, the last face I wanted to see stood there. Vivian.

“Good morning, Lora,” she sang sweetly, ignoring me. Her eyes slid to Lora’s stomach, her smile sharpening. “Oh, I see. So this is what’s kept you busy. How… interesting.”

I stepped in front of her before she could twist the knife further. “Leave, Vivian.” I whispered in a low voice, in between my teeth.

She leaned in, her whisper only for me. “Remember our secret, Drake. One word, and she’ll see you for what you really are.” She replied in the same tone.