Replacing my ex

Chapter 4

Willow Black?!

My hands started to tremble so violently that the folder slipped from my fingers, clattering onto the floor.

Ryan hadn't just used my heart. He had used my blood, sweat, and tears to buy his mistress a home.

Surely no one could be this cruel.

“What?” Viola asked, her voice laced with sudden concern.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me, L.”

I stayed frozen, staring blankly at the wall. Viola bent down and snatched the folder off the floor, quickly flipping through the documents.

“Isn’t this the new property downtown you guys bought as an investment?” she asked me, her brow furrowing. She kept reading, and I slowly turned my gaze toward her. I could pinpoint the exact second her eyes hit the name on the deed.

“No way. There’s no way in hell this Willow Black is the same home-wrecking Willow,” Viola breathed, shaking her head, her eyes narrowing into slits of pure fury.

“Oh, but it is,” I replied, a bitter, lifeless laugh escaping my throat.

“How stupid can one man be?!” Viola shouted at the ceiling.

“I mean, seriously, leave some stupidity for the rest of the world!”

“Anyway, … enough of him,” I said, forcing my voice to stay level. “I’ll scan this and ask the lawyer about it tomorrow. He is going to pay for this. Every single cent.”

Viola shook her head in disbelief, still staring at the document.

I took out my phone and scanned the deed before carefully placing it back inside the safe so Ryan wouldn’t suspect I had found it.

Once I gathered my essential documents, we drove over to Viola’s apartment.

The movers made quick work of transferring my life from the truck into her living room.

For the first night, I’d bunk with Viola in her room and then we’d reorganise the next day so I could move into her spare room.

The second the movers left, a heavy, suffocating wave of fatigue crashed over me, never mind that it was only six in the evening. Viola ordered takeout while I took a long, scorching shower.

We ate in quiet comfort, and as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out like a light.

When I woke up the next morning, soft sunlight was trickling in through a small gap in the curtains. The mouthwatering aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon drifted through the air.

My stomach grumbled immediately.

I stretched, letting out a long yawn, and padded into the kitchen.

“Finally! Look who’s alive!” Viola teased from the stove, where she was flipping bacon in a pan.

“Good morning to you too, Vi. How can I help?” I asked as I walked towards her.

“Just relax,” she insisted. “You’re a princess today.”

“Boooo,” I said playfully, already opening her cabinets to grab what we needed - mugs, plates and cutlery. After I set them up at her kitchen table, I walked back over to her and asked, “Toast?”

She nodded, and I slid two slices of bread into the toaster. We worked side by side in comfortable silence before sitting down to devour breakfast.

Afterward, we both got ready for the day. Since Viola’s job was mostly work-from-home, she retreated into her makeshift office, while I grabbed my purse and headed out for my appointment with the lawyer.

As I pulled out of the parking, my phone began to chime through the car speakers. I glanced at the dashboard display.

Ryan.

Of course. And it only took him two whole days to finally return my calls.

Someone alert the press, we’ve found the husband of the year.

I hit ignore and kept driving.

A second later, my phone buzzed. Then it buzzed again.

And again.

And again.

Finally the screen lit up with an incoming call. Still Ryan.

When I pulled into the sleek commercial complex where the law firm was located, I switched my phone to Do Not Disturb mode, slipped it into my purse, and walked inside.

“Good morning, ma’am. Welcome to Brown and Hodges. How may I help you?” the receptionist asked, offering a polished, professional smile.

“Good morning,” I answered, smoothing down my blazer.

“I have an eleven o’clock appointment with Ms. Samantha Hodges.”

“Of course. Name please?”

“Lila. Lila Storm…. Lila Miller,” I stammered. “I’m sorry. My friend helped me book it, so I’m not sure if she used my marital name or my maiden name.”

“No worries, Lila,” she said warmly. “Please have a seat in the lounge, and Ms. Hodges will be with you shortly.”

“Thank you,” I said, taking a seat on one of the armchairs in the waiting room.

A few minutes later, l was led into a stunning corner office. Two of the walls were floor-to-ceiling glass, offering sweeping views of the city’s skyline. In front of these glass walls sat a massive executive desk. The third wall featured shelves filled with thick legal volumes, tastefully interspersed with prestigious awards. Adjacent to the shelves was a colourful pinboard overflowing with pictures and thank you notes from former clients.

“Hello there, Lila,” Samantha Hodges said, walking towards me, her smile warm and disarming as she motioned towards a plush couch along the fourth wall. “Please, call me Sam.”

“Hello, Sam,” I replied, sitting down.

We settled into the couch, and Sam asked me to walk her through everything. And I did, right from how Ryan and I met all the way to the nightmare of the past forty eight hours. She took precise notes during the conversation, interrupting occasionally to ask sharp, insightful questions. She was extremely patient and kind, handing me tissues when my voice cracked, nodding attentively, and offering steadying words of encouragement.

“Alright,” Sam said, leaning forward. “Let’s talk about the finances.”

“We have two joint accounts,” I explained. “One for savings, which requires both of our signatures for any withdrawals, and an operating account for daily expenses that doesn’t. Outside of those, we each maintain separate personal accounts. As for the business … Miller Holdings started as a private company with Ryan and me as equal fifty-fifty shareholders. But two years ago, we took it public with an IPO. Currently Ryan and I each hold a thirty percent stake, while the remaining forty percent is distributed among external shareholders.”

I paused, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“All of the property we own is held under Miller Holdings except for the apartment downtown I told you about that is registered under his mistress’ name.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed slightly, a legal predator scenting blood.

“Okay. I’m going to need copies of all bank statements. Personal and joint. I’ll also need the text thread from the mistress, the deed, and any other physical evidence of infidelity you have.”

When our session ended, she gave me a reassuring hug and walked me back to the reception.

“We’re going to take care of you, Lila. Don’t worry.”

By the time I got back to Viola’s apartment, Ryan was officially blowing up my phone. I finally turned off Do Not Disturb and scrolled through the mounting wall of texts.

RYAN: Where are you?

RYAN: Answer your phone

RYAN: You’re starting to piss me off

RYAN: Where’s all your stuff? Where are you?

RYAN: Is this about the anniversary staycation? You know how busy I am

RYAN: I’m so sorry, honey. Please call me.

RYAN: We can talk about it.

RYAN: Hello? Are you there?

RYAN: Lila!!!

RYAN: You’re being dramatic. One missed dinner and you leave?

RYAN: Lilllllaaaaaa!!!!!!

RYAN: Pick uppppp!!!!!!!

I rolled my eyes, plugged my phone into the wall socket and started organizing my stuff into Viola’s spare room.

Three hours into organising, a sound cut through the silence.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

What kind of lunatic pounds on a door like that?

Viola and I walked out into the hallway at the same time.I raised my eyebrows at her, and she gave me a bewildered shrug.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

We both jumped as the front door rattled in its frame.

“I know you’re in there, Lila. Let me in!”

I recognized the voice instantly.

Ryan.