My Ex Wants Me Back After Cheating 99 Times，But I’m Already Married to a Billionaire

My husband gives me ninety-nine photos of himself cheating on me as a gift for our second wedding anniversary. The one on top shows him having sex with my best friend, Serena Wells, in our kitchen. Preston Vale watches my face turn pale, then gives me a cold, mocking smile. “I finally get why men cheat,” he says. “It’s exciting as hell.” I don’t say a word, just stare at him. The silence becomes awkward. Then he suddenly picks up his phone and calls someone. “Serena, I lost,” he says. “She saw the photos, and she didn’t cry.” He hangs up, stands, and slides a stack of divorce papers across the table. “Serena and I made a bet. We wanted to see if you’d cry when you found out we were cheating,” he says. “If I lost, I’d have to stay married to her for three years.” “Chloe, let’s get divorced for now. Give each other three years. You can learn to be more forgiving, and I can learn to settle down.” I sign without hesitation. That same night, I board a flight to Los Angeles. Two years later, I come back to New York. Preston hears the news and shows up at the airport, looking just as cocky and laid-back as ever. “Three years aren’t even up yet,” he says. “You’re that desperate to remarry me?” I take a step back and laugh in his face. “Remarry you? I’m already on husband number two.” … And I’m already carrying his baby. I gently place my hand over my lower belly. “What did you say?” Preston asks. He puts out the cigarette between his fingers, his mouth curving into that careless smile I know all too well. “Chloe, it’s been two years, and you still have that temper.” “Besides me, what man could possibly put up with you?” “But the three-year deal isn’t over yet. Technically, Serena is still my wife, so you’ll have to deal with it for now.” I frown. “Preston Vale, do you think you’re the last man on earth? When did I ever say I wanted you back?” He freezes for half a second. Then he laughs. He thinks I’m throwing a tantrum. Like always, he reaches out and ruffles my hair, as if he still has the right. “Mad again?” “Fine. I’ll just divorce Serena in a few days.” “To be honest, after two years, I kind of miss being with you.” I slap his hand away, ready to curse him out. Suddenly, the headlights of a parked car flash in my eyes. “Get in,” he says. “It’s hot out.” I don’t refuse. I need to talk to him anyway. Serena is sitting in the passenger seat, holding a half-eaten piece of cake. “Sorry, Chloe,” she says sweetly. “I couldn’t even get out of the car to say hi. Blame Preston. He kept me up way too late last night.” “If he hadn’t finally let me sleep, I probably wouldn’t even be able to get out of bed.” Preston smiles and strokes her cheek. Then he picks a crumb off the corner of her mouth. I turn away and look out the window. Back then, he never let me eat in his car. Not even when my blood sugar dropped and I only wanted one piece of candy. He’d grab my wrist and snap, “That smell is too strong. It’s gross.” So he does make exceptions. Just not for me. I look away and ignore their flirting. They take me to a restaurant. Serena acts like she owns the place and pushes the menu toward me. “Don’t be shy,” she says. “Order whatever you want.” Preston immediately cuts in. “Bring us one of every seafood dish on the menu.” I used to love seafood. But now… “No,” I say. “I can’t have seafood right now.” Preston looks confused. “What do you mean? You loved this stuff.” Under their shocked stares, I explain calmly. “I’m pregnant.”

The private dining room goes dead silent. Then Preston lets out a mocking laugh. “Pregnant? Are you kidding me? I haven’t touched you in forever.” I almost roll my eyes. How is he this shameless? Does he really think I’ve been waiting for him this whole time? Serena laughs too, her eyes full of open contempt. “Chloe, stop pretending. Even if you’re trying to get Preston’s attention, don’t use such a pathetic lie.” “Did you forget what people used to call you? The useless wife who couldn’t even give him a baby.” During the two years I was married to Preston, no matter how hard we tried, I never got pregnant. The Vale family despised me for it. The insults never stopped. Preston only ever said, “Mom means well. Just put up with it.” It wasn’t until later, when I got Preston’s medical report, that I learned the truth. He has azoospermia. No sperm at all. The problem was never me. I don’t bother explaining. I just hold out my hand to Preston. “Give me back the necklace my mother left me.” I come back to New York for two things. One, to buy back my mother’s family estate at auction. Two, to get back the last thing my mother left me. It’s an emerald necklace. For a long time, I thought I’d lost it. I blamed myself for it every day. For the past two years, Serena has posted almost nonstop. Hand-holding photos, kissing selfies, heart-shaped breakfasts, designer bags, jewelry, expensive gifts. Every caption is meant to provoke me. I never let it get to me. Sometimes, I even found it funny. Until last month. That necklace appeared in one of Serena’s Instagram posts. She took a mirror selfie wearing it, with the caption: I said my neck looked bare one time, and he gave me a million-dollar emerald necklace. So this is what being treasured feels like. That was when I realized the necklace wasn’t lost. Preston had given it to Serena. What gives him the right? My mother designed that necklace for me while she was dying in a hospital bed, her hands wrapped in bandages, IV lines taped to her arms. She drew every line of the design for me herself. Preston scratches the back of his neck, looking slightly uncomfortable. “You don’t even like wearing jewelry. What do you need it for?” My hands clench into fists. “You knew how important it was to me. It was my mother’s.” Serena lets out a fake little gasp beside him. “Chloe, are you talking about this necklace?” She opens her purse, casually takes out the necklace, and swings it in front of my eyes. “You should’ve said it was yours earlier. Your mom was so good to me when she was alive. How could I take something of hers?” The words hurt more than I want to admit. Serena and I used to be best friends. My mother treated her like a second daughter. But on the day of my mother’s funeral, Serena climbed into my husband’s bed. That night, I cried so hard I could barely breathe, and I called her, hoping she’d comfort me. What I heard instead were the sounds of sex and Preston’s familiar, low breathing. That same night, Serena sent me photos of the two of them in bed. Her message was a taunt: [Chloe Hart, what’s the point of marrying Preston Vale? In the end, I’m still the one who wins.] So on our anniversary, when Preston gives me those photos, I’m not surprised. I was almost relieved. I snap back to the present and stand up to take the necklace. But Serena lifts her hand and throws it out the window. Then she gasps and sticks her tongue out at me. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. My hand slipped.” My heart stops for a beat. I rush to the window and look down. The thirty-third floor. The ground is so far below I can barely see it. Tears spring to my eyes from pure rage, and my voice shakes. “You did that on purpose.” “Don’t be mad, Chloe. I’ll go get it for you…” She reaches for my hand with red eyes. I shove her away. She instantly screams and falls backward into Preston’s arms. Two years later, and she’s still just as fake. And Preston still can’t see it. He glares at me and snaps, “Chloe Hart, that was too much.” “Serena didn’t mean to do it. Why did you push her?” I don’t waste time arguing with him. I shove past him and run downstairs. The necklace is shattered. I search all night, and in the end, I only manage to find a few broken emerald pieces. I take the pieces to a master jeweler and have him restore what he can. That night, Serena posts again. This time, it’s an ultrasound report. The caption says: [Twins. Looks like we’re going to be a family of four!] I laugh silently. Preston probably still has no idea. The twins Serena is carrying aren’t his.

Wearing the repaired necklace, I bring flowers to the cemetery. From far away, I see a crowd gathered around my mother’s grave. When I get closer, I realize it’s Preston and Serena. “Please hurry up,” Serena mutters. “This place gives me the creeps.” My mother’s headstone has been smashed to pieces. The soil is dug up and piled into a small mound. “What are you doing?” I rush forward and block the grave. “Stop right now!” I turn on Preston. “Are you blind? This is my mother’s grave.” “I know,” he says. He sounds a little guilty. “But Serena is pregnant. You know how much my mother cares about the baby.” “My mom hired some spiritual advisor to bless the pregnancy. He said your mother’s grave is bringing bad luck to the baby.” “He said it could curse Serena’s pregnancy.” “Chloe, try to understand me.” “If my mom gets upset, there’s no way you and I can get remarried later.” I’m so angry I can’t speak. He thinks my silence means I agree. He immediately smiles and lightly traces a finger across my palm. “I knew you’d see it my way.” “When Serena’s baby is born, you can be the second mom.” Slap. My slap cuts him off mid-sentence. I grab his collar. “I don’t care whether your baby lives or dies. But no one touches my mother’s grave.” “Chloe, what the hell is wrong with you?” Serena steps between us, her eyes red, looking wounded and innocent. “You can’t have a child yourself, so now you’re cursing mine? How can you be so vicious?” My fingers tremble. I stare at her and laugh coldly. “Serena, who are you performing for?” “You know better than anyone whose baby you’re carrying.” Panic flashes across Serena’s face. She quickly turns and grabs Preston’s arm, whining. “Babe, my stomach suddenly hurts.” “What if this dead old woman’s grave really is hurting my babies?” Worry flickers across Preston’s face. He immediately orders the guards, “Why are you standing there? Dig.” “No!” I rush forward to stop them, but Preston clamps a hand around my wrist. “Chloe, what are you making a scene for?” “You don’t get a say. I paid for this plot.” His words drain the strength right out of me. I cry. I choke on my sobs. And I watch helplessly as my mother’s grave is dug open in front of me. They throw the dirt-stained urn at my feet. Only then does Preston let me go. He looks guilty. “Enough, Chloe. Don’t cry. I’ll buy your mom a better plot.” He cups my face. His rough thumb wipes across my cheek. “Being Mrs. Vale means learning to be gracious. Patient. Able to swallow your pride. I told you that two years ago.” I pick up my mother’s urn and wipe away my tears. Then I turn and look straight at him, saying each word clearly. “No one wants to be Mrs. Vale.” “I’m already married.” “And as for being gracious and patient, I hope you remember those words after Serena gives birth.” I turn and leave. Behind me, Preston shouts. “What do you mean? Chloe, explain yourself!” Serena’s wounded sobs follow right after. “Babe, my stomach hurts!” Preston doesn’t chase me. Instead, he hurries to pick Serena up and leave. I find my mother a beautiful new resting place, nestled between the hills and the river, where it stays green year-round. My phone fills with messages. All from Preston. Huge money transfers. Apologies. Excuses. Promises that he’ll divorce Serena as soon as she gives birth. I don’t reply. None of it has anything to do with me anymore. I only want to buy back my mother’s family estate. I only want to fulfill my mother’s last wish.