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I’m not with Anyone!
Last Updated:
2025-03-23 05:31:03
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Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging More Damage from the Goat
We stood there, drenched and staring at each other, the rain creating a strange intimacy—a world of just the two of us on the crowded sidewalk where pedestrians hurried past with umbrellas and newspapers held over their heads. The storm had been building all day, but we'd somehow ended up arguing in its worst moments, neither of us willing to postpone the confrontation for better weather."My contract with Vega Davidson prohibits professional contact with you," I said finally."I'm not here professionally. You stated that yourself" He said nodding towards the entrance,water running down his neck, disappearing beneath his collar. "I'm here because I can't stand another day of you thinking I lied to you. That what happened between us wasn't real.""What did happen between us, Alex? We kissed. We almost went further. Then real life interrupted, like it always does.""Real life is why I'm standing in the rain right now, making a scene outside your office." He reached out, his fingers brush
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Daniel waited exactly twenty-six hours to destroy me.I was in the subway when the first message arrived, my phone buzzing against my hip as the train lurched between stations. Service was spotty underground, so it wasn't until we pulled into Union Square that the avalanche of notifications hit—seventeen text messages, twenty-three emails, and thirty-eight social media alerts.The first text was from Troy: DO NOT COME TO THE STUDIO. Call me NOW.The second was from Olivia: Have you seen Design Weekly? Daniel leaked the photos.My stomach dropped as I opened the link Olivia had sent. There it was, splashed across the digital front page of the industry's most influential p
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Outside, the bright spring day felt like an insult. I walked aimlessly for several blocks, my mind racing through options that dwindled with each step. Without Vega Davidson's manufacturing capabilities, I was back to creating pieces by hand in my apartment. Without their distribution channels, I was limited to online sales. Without their industry connection, I was just another independent designer making unsubstantiated claims about my talent.By the time I reached Washington Square Park, my phone had died from the constant notifications. I sat on a bench, watching students sprawled on the grass enjoying the sunshine, their lives uncomplicated by vengeful ex-husbands or industry blacklisting."Quite a morning you've had."I looked up to find Troy standing beside my bench, two coffee cups in hand. He offered one to me."How did you find me?""I didn't." He sat beside me. "I got fired too. Was walking to drown my sorrows in caffeine and spotted you looking pathetic.""They fired you?"
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Two hours later, I was dressed in Troy's idea of power attire—black cigarette pants, a structured blazer in deep emerald that somehow fit perfectly, and a silver collar necklace of my own design. My hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, makeup minimal but precise."Perfect," Troy declared, circling me critically. "Professional enough for a business dinner, fabulous enough to remind them who they're dealing with.""Which is?""A designer whose talent threatens an entire dynasty." He adjusted the collar minutely. "Remember that when you're sitting across from Grandfather Russo. You're not there because you need him—you're there because he recognizes what you're worth."I wasn't sure I believed that, but his confidence was contagious. By the time the car arrived—a sleek black sedan with tinted windows—I felt armored against whatever awaited me at the mansion.The drive was shorter than I remembered, or maybe time simply compressed with anxiety. We passed through the ornate gates that
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"Because now you've proven what you can do independently." Grandfather set down his glass. "Your viral success, your partnership at Vega Davidson, your resilience in the face of systematic sabotage—you've demonstrated that your talent wasn't a fluke or a product of Russo resources. It was always you."The validation I'd craved for years, delivered now when I least expected it. I didn't trust it—couldn't trust it—but couldn't deny the hunger it awakened in me either."The board would never accept me after today's articles.""The board follows the controlling interest, which would be yours." He smiled thinly. "Besides, scandals fade. Talent doesn't."A knock at the study door interrupted us. Martha entered with a covered dinner tray, setting it on the table between us with practiced efficiency. The simple meal—pasta carbonara, my favorite—suggested Grandfather had planned this carefully, choosing comfort over impression."Consider this," Grandfather continued as Martha left. "With contr
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"Hold still," Troy muttered around the pins in his mouth, making final adjustments to the dress he'd insisted on creating for my first public appearance since the scandal broke. "If you fidget, I'll stab you, and blood ruins silver lamé."The dress was his masterpiece—asymmetrical silver with structural elements that echoed my jewelry designs. One shoulder bare, the other draped in a metallic sleeve that caught the light when I moved. The silhouette was deceptively simple, but the details were pure Troy: hand-stitched metal beading along the neckline that mirrored my signature glass-and-metal fusion technique."It's already perfect," I said, watching him fuss with the hem."Perfection is subjective. Revenge is specific." He stood, circling me critically. "When you walk into that gala on Giuseppe Russo's arm, every person who's whispered about you these past two weeks needs to choke on their champagne."It had been sixteen days since Grandfather's offer and my acceptance. Sixteen days
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"Giuseppe!" A tall woman in her sixties approached, air-kissing Grandfather before turning her assessing gaze on me. "And the famous Maya Russo. Or is it Maya Vega these days? I can never keep up with the rebranding.""Maya is fine, Mrs. Harrington," I replied, recognizing the owner of one of America's largest luxury retail chains."Margaret, Maya will be making an exciting announcement later this evening," Grandfather said. "One I think will interest Harrington's buyers considerably."Mrs. Harrington's perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose. "Intriguing. I look forward to it." She lowered her voice. "And may I say, my dear, that those photos did you no justice. You're far more striking in person."Before I could respond, Grandfather was steering me toward another group of ind
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The Guild president took the stage, tapping her microphone for attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, before we move to dessert and our awards presentation, we have a special announcement." She smiled, a practiced expression that revealed nothing. "It's my honor to welcome to the stage Giuseppe Russo, founder of Russo Designs, for what I'm told is a historic moment in the company's evolution."A ripple of interest moved through the room. Unscheduled announcements at the Guild Gala were rare—the program was typically planned to the minute. I caught snippets of whispered speculation from nearby tables."—retiring perhaps?" "—heard rumors of acquisition—" "—why is she here with him instead of Daniel?"Grandfather rose with deliberate slowness, the room quieting as he made his way to the podium. The spotlights followed him, leaving the rest of the room in dramatic shadow. Even in his eighties, he commanded attention—his posture straight, his movements purposeful. He adjusted the microphone, su
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"Maya," Father said, setting down his fork. "Let's be direct. The foundation you've established is creating a narrative that directly threatens our company's standing. Your use of the Vega name, your public statements about design appropriation—it's being interpreted as an attack on us.""It's not an attack," Maya replied. "It's the truth.""Truth is subjective in business," Father countered. "Perception is what matters. And the perception you're creating could do real damage.""To your profits," Maya said flatly."To our legacy," Mother corrected. "Everything we built—everything that would have been yours one day—is at risk because of this... crusade."Maya laughed, the sound startlingly everyone in the roo
Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging Alex is Family
We moved to the dining room, a procession of expensive clothes and cold fury. I hung back, retrieving my phone, before moving to join them..The dining room looked like a spread from Architectural Digest—crystal chandeliers reflecting off polished silver, white roses arranged in perfect symmetry down the center of the mahogany table. It was the same setting Mother had used for every important dinner since I was a child.Maya paused in the doorway, her eyes scanning the familiar opulence. I could see the familiar expression that passed her face—recognition, remembrance, then it gave way to revulsion. Then it was gone, replaced by the careful mask she'd worn since arriving."You've redecorated," she observed, taking her seat. Alex sat beside her, his presence altering the careful balance of the table. Wher
Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging Kingston Threat
FionaThe Kingston mansion always reeked of money and misery. Standing in the foyer, I repositioned the heavy crystal vase on the antique table—my third adjustment in ten minutes. Mother insisted fresh-cut lilies were the only acceptable centerpiece for the entry. Anything else would be "common."I glanced at my phone: 6:54 PM. Maya would be here soon, assuming she kept her word. The knot in my stomach tightened. Daniel had messaged four times already, demanding updates. I still couldn't figure out how he had access to a phone in the psychiatric facility, but then again, this was Daniel Russo we were talking about. Money and connections could breach any barrier—even the walls of a secure mental health unit.On schedule. Relax.I'd added the second part against my bett
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“Come here.”"I've been thinking about this for the last hour," he admitted, fingers already working at the button of my jeans. "You, just like this."I rocked against his hardened cock already evident beneath me. "You were supposed to be working.""Not with you biting your lip every time you read something challenging." His hands slipped inside my jeans, panties giving way, immediately finding my pussy like it was normal. "It's distracting.""Sorry," I said, with a slight shiver, but I wasn’t sorry at all."No, you're not." He squeezed, fingers digging into flesh in a way that made me gasp. "But you will be. Maya"The Mention of my name made something break loos
Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging Come here
The rest of the morning passed in a strangely comfortable rhythm. I showered while he took calls in the living room. When I came out, hair still damp, he was back in full CEO mode—laptop open, phone pressed to his ear, focused and professional.I settled at the dining table with my own laptop, diving into the foundation emails. Across from me, Alex argued with someone about supply chain issues, his voice firm but reasonable. It should have been awkward, this domesticity. Instead, it felt oddly natural.Around noon, he closed his laptop and stretched. I tried not to stare at the strip of skin exposed as his shirt rode up, but failed miserably. He caught me looking and smiled, slow and deliberate."Are you hungry?" he asked."Starving." I hadn't eaten since Troy&rsqu
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I woke to the smell of coffee and unfamiliar sounds in my kitchen. For a disorienting second, panic flared—someone was in my house—until the memory returned. Alex. Beach. Car. Couch. Bed. Floor at some point. Then bed again.My body ached in ways both foreign and familiar. My pussy was raw and swollen from fucking all night. It felt good. We had fucked again even after Alex came in me. I stopped at that thought. Alex had cummed in me multiple times last night. The thought of it somehow made my pussy ache again, I could feel it getting moist again. I snapped. Shit. I would need to sort that out later —getting backup.I stretched, taking inventory of what Alex had done to me. Purple marks dotted my inner thighs. Finger-shaped bruises colored my hips w
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He pushed inside, one long, slow thrust that made me gasp. The sensation was different without the condom—It was warm. The feeling of his warm cock against the wall of my pussy made me squirm. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him on."Fuck, Maya," he groaned, holding still for a moment. "You feel—""I know," I cut him off. "Move."“Fuck me!”He did, setting a pace that had me digging my nails into his shoulders. He wasn’t holding back this time like he had done initially on the beach. Each thrust hit somehow hit that sweet spot inside me that made the pleasure build up.“Go harder Alex!” I moaned, “Please don’t stop. Fuck me!”
Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging Speed
The drive back to my apartment was torture. Good torture, but torture nonetheless. Every red light felt like it lasted an hour. Alex's hand rested high on my thigh, his thumb tracing small circles that made it nearly impossible to focus on the road."You're going to make me crash," I muttered as his fingers inched higher, slipping beneath the edge of my underwear."Then drive faster," he replied, voice rough in a way I'd never heard from him before.He didn't stop. His fingers slid lower, finding me still wet from the beach. I gasped, my foot instinctively pressing harder on the accelerator as he stroked me."Alex," I warned, gripping the steering wheel so tight my knuckles went white. "This isn't—""Keep your eyes on the road," he instructed, his other hand moving to my breast, thumb circling my nipple through my shirt.The speedometer crept higher as his fingers moved faster between my legs. My vision blurred at the edges, body torn between focusing on driving and surrendering to th
Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging Beach Sex
He kissed me with an urgency that matched my own, hands moving beneath my t-shirt to find skin. His palms were callused and warm against my ribs as they moved upward, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts. I arched into the touch, impatient for more.We were still awkwardly positioned against the post, and my shoulder blade dug painfully into the weathered wood. "Not here," I said against his mouth.He immediately stepped back, misunderstanding. "We can go—""No, I mean, not against this post. It's digging into my back." I took his hand, led him away from the post to where a dune created some shelter from the wind. I pulled him down with me onto the sand.The cold immediately seeped through my jeans, but the discomfort seemed irrelevant compared to the heat
