Revenge On My Ex Husband

Chapter 5

Family Dinner

Drake’s POV

The instant Lora stepped out of the changing room in the pearl dress, my chest tightened. She looked fragile, almost ethereal, her skin glowing against the fabric.

But it wasn’t her beauty that stole my breath.

It was the way she instinctively rested her hand over her stomach, like she was protecting herself or something else by doing it. She had no idea what this world demanded, no idea what I would protect her from.

I followed her to the car. Her hands were folded in her lap, knuckles white around her purse. She was tense, afraid—of me, of this marriage, of everything.

“Alright,” I told myself. Fear keeps her careful. Keeps her protected.

I didn’t want her afraid. I wanted… something else. But that wasn’t possible, not with our arrangement.

The mansion rose before us like a fortress. Lora gasped softly, eyes wide.

“Is this your home?”

“Where we reside,” I said, steering in. “For the year.”

Her face paled further. I wanted to reach for her hand, but I kept my composure. She can’t understand this world yet.

As we stepped out, a dozen attendants formed a line, bowing in unison. Lora’s breath quickened. I took her hand. Icy, despite the afternoon sun. “Breathe,” I whispered. “Just trust me.”

She nodded, leaning on me like I was the only solid thing in a swaying world.

“Let my father know we’ve arrived,” I said. Marcus, the head of security vanished inside.

A young servant approached. “Young Madam, would you care for a drink?”

“Juice. For the two of us,” I said. Lora blinked in surprise. Juice first, then champagne. Not wine—not anything that might compromise her composure.

Footsteps echoed from upstairs. My father descended, hair glinting beneath the chandelier, imposing despite the years. Next to him… Vivian.

The woman who had ruined my mother, who had wormed her way into our family. Her burgundy gown spoke of wealth; her grin was sharp and poisonous.

I gripped Lora’s hand. She won’t touch you. I won’t allow it.

“Greetings, my beloved!” my father said warmly, shaking Lora’s hand. “At last! The lady who subdued my son. I had started to believe he’d stay single forever.”

Lora smiled politely. “It’s a privilege to meet you, Mr. Grayson.”

“Please, William. We are family now,” he corrected. “You’ve made a good choice, son. She’s what this family requires.”

If only he knew. This marriage was empty. Lora was here because she had nowhere else to turn.

“Thank you, Father,” I said frostily. “Now, if you’ll excuse us…”

“Hold on a moment, dear,” Vivian said, advancing. The click of her heels was a countdown to trouble. “I need to meet my new daughter-in-law. You gentlemen can converse later.”

I glanced at Lora. Her eyes sought guidance. Don’t trust me yet. I’m leading you into a serpent’s lair.

She kissed my cheek gently. “I’ll be alright. We can discuss it later.”

I held her head a moment longer. “Stay cautious. If something…anything…feels wrong, reach out immediately. Got it?”

She nodded. Vivian escorted her off. My nerves tightened as my father led me to his study. My eyes stayed on the archway where Lora vanished.

Something didn’t feel right.

“Your mother would be proud,” my father said. “Getting settled, beginning a family… long overdue, Drake.”

I barely heard him. My attention snapped to a motion from the sitting room. Someone was leaving… Vivian. Alone. Her grin content, almost predatory.

“Pardon me.” I moved quickly toward the sitting room.

“Drake? Where are you—”

I ignored him. The door stayed shut. Too quiet.

I pushed it aside.

And froze.

Lora stood in the middle of the room. Pale. One hand clutching her abdomen. Across her pearl dress, a dark blot spread. Blood.

Time fractured.

“Lora!” I shouted, rushing to her. My hands steadied her shoulders as I searched for the cut.

“I-I’m okay. It’s a minor cut,” she whispered.

Not minor. Inches from… everything.

“Vivian!” I roared.

Footsteps thundered behind me. Guards, staff—but I didn’t look back. All focus on her.

“This—” I hissed. “Your wife has assaulted mine.”

Vivian stood in the doorway, flawless, feigning concern. Lies dripping from every word.

“She’s not telling the truth,” I snapped. Lora trembled in my arms. She needed a hospital. Now.

“We’re leaving,” I said, lifting her carefully. My father protested. I didn’t care. My glare silenced him.

I carried her past the staff, down the stairs, her face buried in my neck. “I’m here,” I whispered. “You’re safe.”

Halfway to the car, more footsteps sounded behind us. Quick, youthful. I turned.

A man stepped down. Dark hair, suit sharp. His gaze landed on Lora in my arms. And froze.

Her body stiffened against mine. Breath hitched.

“No…” she whispered.

“Jackson?” The name escaped, broken and raw.

Behind him, a woman appeared. Blonde, high-class, jewelry gleaming. Her arm circled his possessively.

It clicked.

Her ex-husband.

And the woman beside him…

Chloe. My half-sibling.

Vivian’s voice called out. “Chloe, dear! You’ve arrived on schedule. Your brother came back with his wife. Isn’t this wonderful?”

I didn’t move. Didn’t speak. My jaw set. Lora stayed pressed against me, trembling.