BIANCA’S POV“Excuse me, miss? You walked into me,” Ethan said, his voice deceptively gentle. I could see the annoyance in the way he pressed his lips together and tapped his fingers rapidly against his now-folded arms.“And you couldn’t avoid it?” I raised an eyebrow. My actions seemed counterproductive, but this was the best chance I had for implementing Darren’s plans. I could see Ethan formulating a response in his mind; perhaps his hatred for me had grown again.“We—”“Don’t get mad at me,” I interrupted, sighing softly. I made sure to round my shoulders and rub my eyebrows, looking like someone the whole world was against. “I’ve just been so stressed lately; it wasn’t your fault.” I huffed out a laugh and rubbed my neck.Ethan’s face went blank. I hated when he did that; I could never tell what he was thinking that way. I was someone who relied strongly on facial cues to read the mood, so Ethan’s blank face made me want to punch it.“I accept your apology,” he nodded tightly and
BIANCA’S POV Darren was cursing under his breath, stumbling to keep up with me as the elevator ascended. “I can’t believe you’re making me chase a traitor in this,” he muttered, tugging at the itchy collar of the blazer. I didn’t respond; I had no kind words toward the outfit, so I couldn’t even assure him that he looked wonderful. His perfect body proportions were the only thing that prevented him from looking too horrendous. The elevator opened, and Darren and I immediately walked over to the door of my office. Right as I was about to barge in and open the door, Darren held my hand with one of his and shushed me with the other. “Let’s listen first,” he mouthed, placing his ear on the door. I followed suit, but I didn’t hear anything. What exactly had I expected? My office had always been soundproof. Darren seemed to remember that and whipped out his phone and AirPods, scrolling until he clicked on a grey app. He scrolled through it, clicking things in rapid succession. Just whe
BIANCA'S POVEthan didn’t report the altered designs to me before the day ended, or perhaps he did and I wasn’t available to receive them. I was too busy using an entire bottle of hand sanitizer and rushing home to take a scalding hot shower to get rid of the feeling.I didn’t even want to think about it at all. It was dinner night with Alessandro, Giovanni, Darren, Luca, and Lazarro. Lazarro and I had been introduced not too long ago, and being around him made me feel like Luca had aged up five years in a second. I involuntarily fell into the motherly big sister vibe.It had all the potential to be an enjoyable evening. The restaurant we’d chosen was small and intimate, with warm lighting that made everything seem just a little more pleasant.Alessandro sat across from me, squinting at me with a look in his eyes—because my errant leg was trailing up his feet under the table. Giovanni was entertaining Luca with terrible dad jokes, and Lazarro and Luca—who had caught on like a house on
BIANCA’S POVI couldn’t believe it was the day of my release already. I had arranged for my usual models, and they were milling around backstage in varying degrees of nudity, looking for the clothes assigned to them. Darren, for the first time, had decided to step out into the public eye to model an outfit, leaving behind the confines of the sample room.He typically always modeled it in the sample room or the company’s walkway. I had first expressed concern for him, as he wasn’t used to the lighting, sound, and the multiple influential people who had come to critique the designs. He sent me off with a deadpan look.“Have you ever seen me nervous, piccolo?” he asked. The answer was yes. As his best friend, I had seen him nervous multiple times, but really, I had never seen him nervous in a good-looking outfit. With the assurance that he wasn’t going to break down in anxiety right before the show, I left him with the hair and makeup artists.Toria’s placeholder company would also be ho
TORIA’S POVToday was the day I had been waiting for. The day Bianca would finally fall from her high horse and be exposed for the fraud she was. The truth wouldn’t matter once she was sued and canceled for copying the ‘cutting-edge designs’ of a lesser-known company. She had dared to intimidate me with those men, so she couldn’t blame me if I ruined her because of it.That man who had shot a bullet into a pillow back at Viale flashed across my mind every time I slept. Who was Bianca’s backer? I kept wondering who the mysterious man was, and I had sent Ethan to investigate, but the fool hadn’t found anything.Although, with my master plan in place, it didn’t really matter who her backer was. Even he couldn’t save her from what I had in store for her.At first, when I saw the designs, I thought Ethan wanted to double-cross me. They were horrid. Bianca didn’t even have any actual talent if that was the best she could do to make a comeback.They were futuristic, avant-garde abominations,
BIANCA'S POVThe buzz in the venue was electrifying, and I could hear the chatter from the audience as the last few people trickled in. Everything was set. The lights were perfectly placed to highlight every detail of the designs, and the runway gleamed like a blank canvas, ready for my art to walk across it.Toria’s show had ended as horribly as I predicted it would, and the people around were like sharks, just waiting for the wrong move from me so they could bury me. I refused to let that happen.The music began with a slow, steady beat that reverberated through the room like a heartbeat. It hooked me instantly and set the perfect tone for what was about to unfold.I stood off to the side of the stage, holding my clipboard tightly, though it was more for show now than for need. My models were ready, my designs were perfect, and everything had been double- and triple-checked. This was my moment, but I couldn’t help the small flutter of nerves that racked through my body in small spur
BIANCA’S POVThe sunlight streamed through the blinds in muted bars of gold. It was almost four in the afternoon, and the weather was warm—absolutely perfect for a cool outing. I checked my watch again and adjusted my handbag at my feet before scrolling through my feed once more.I was in the Moretti Villa, waiting for Alessandro to come back home from work so we could go out. I had discovered a lovely 80s retro-style club downtown in Florence, and I had an inkling Alessandro would enjoy the little trip we’d take on the way there.I let out a small huff of laughter as I saw an insulting tweet. Ethan was getting bashed online and offline, and according to what I had heard, his wife had filed for divorce. I didn’t know if it was because she finally found out about Toria or because she just didn’t want to be associated with a neglectful thief and fraudster.Somehow, some people had also roped Matteo in, despite Ethan not confessing Toria’s involvement. They had pieced together the time p
BIANCA’S POVI had only met him for a couple of minutes, but I felt a bone-deep sense of satisfaction at Ricardo's calmness shaking. It was clear that Giovanni's presence had rattled him, and it was immensely gratifying to watch the cracks form in his smooth exterior.“You didn’t raise me,” Giovanni shot back, his voice casual but his eyes sharp. “That was all on Sandro. You always disappeared just to show up and throw tantrums every now and then.”Ricardo’s eyebrows furrowed even further, almost looking like he had one continuous unibrow, and for a second, I thought he might actually lose it. But instead, he drew in a slow breath and regained his composure like the ice statue he was. His eyes flickered over me, then back to Giovanni. "This is none of your business, Gio."“Everything that happens in this house is my business as a Moretti," Giovanni retorted, descending the stairs leisurely, but there was nothing casual about the way his gaze locked on Larisa. “I vividly remember telli
To all the incredible readers who have joined me on this journey, thank you from the bottom of my heart for being a part of this adventure. Your unwavering support, love, and enthusiasm have made every word worth writing, and I can’t express how grateful I am for each one of you who picked up EX-WIFE REVENGE: HE WANTS ME BACK! and followed along as the story unfolded. When I first began writing this story, I never imagined how deeply it would resonate with so many of you. EX-WIFE REVENGE: HE WANTS ME BACK! was born from the themes of love, betrayal, growth, and healing. It became a journey of rediscovering one’s worth after heartbreak, and how, sometimes, the greatest revenge is simply living life on your terms, stronger than before. I’ll forever have a soft spot for Bianca, Alessandro, Richardo, and, of course, Luca, my baby, whose strength, vulnerability, and complexities grew with every page. And, of course, I didn’t forget my two gays—Darren and Giovanni. Gosh, I love them! Ever
RICARDO’S POVThe man I was a year ago would probably hate me now—or at least laugh at how far I’d fallen.Standing in the warm kitchen of the villa, with the scent of fresh herbs and garlic wafting through the air, I stirred the pot of sauce absentmindedly. Linda was sitting at the island, flipping through some magazines and occasionally humming to herself. She looked up every now and then to check on me, smile always at the ready.“I still can’t believe you cook,” Linda said, her voice lilting with playful disbelief as she rested her chin on her palm. She sat at the island like it was her throne, watching me work.“You’ve known for months,” I replied without looking up, though I couldn’t stop the slight twitch of a smile tugging at my lips.“Knowing and believing are two different things,” she said dramatically as if the mere thought of me wielding a spatula were too much to process. “I mean, come on. You, Ricardo Moretti, slayer of gangsters, protector of secrets, simmering marinar
THIRD PERSON POVLinda stared at the bouquet in her hands, utterly baffled. Roses, hydrangeas, and something that looked suspiciously like a baby's breath. It was the kind of bouquet people bought when they were trying to make a statement. The most ridiculous part was that her fans hadn’t been the ones to send it to her.She glanced up at him, her brooding, possibly homicidal boyfriend — he had become less homicidal, she had to give that to him — standing there like he hadn’t just handed her the boldest floral arrangement she’d ever seen.“You bought me flowers?” she asked, her voice laced with disbelief.His sharp, dark eyes flicked to her, then away, as though he were scanning the room for an escape route. His usual cool, unshakable demeanor had cracked just enough to reveal the faintest hint of discomfort. “Yes.”Linda squinted at him, holding the bouquet to her chest like he might snatch it away. “Are you dying?”“No.”“Did you do something terrible and now you’re trying to soften
RICARDO’S POVThe soft hum of the phone ringing cut through the tension in the air. I was elbow-deep in chaos, surrounded by the thick stench of gunpowder and the distant, muffled screams of men who were just realizing that their time was up.My team and I had spent the last few hours cleaning up the mess of corrupt gangsters who thought they could cross me. The usual mix of quick punches, fast moves, and lethal precision had done the job, but as always, it was the aftermath that lingered.I swiped my phone from the back pocket of my jeans, not even checking the ID. The ringtone was familiar enough; she had forced Rises the Moon on me herself, so I knew who it was. My lips involuntarily quirked as I lifted the phone to my ear.“Go for Ricardo,” I said coolly, stepping over the body of a man who’d decided to fight rather than run. “What’s up?”“Hey, you!” Her voice came through the phone, a little cracked but still unmistakable; the reception in the shitty warehouse couldn’t keep me fr
BIANCA’S POVI adjusted my blazer, glancing at Darren with a calm expression as we approached the visitor’s room. I’d been prepared for this moment, mentally rehearsing every word I’d say, ever since the beautiful day of his and the Dobres' downfall. Darren walked beside me – sauntered really – with the countenance of someone ready to kill a man. I would have liked to complain, but his protective presence was a comforting reminder that I wasn’t facing this alone.When we entered, Matteo was already there, sitting stiffly in one of the chairs. His once-pristine suit looked worn, almost threadbare, and there was a shadow of desperation in his eyes that hadn’t been there when he was the man I’d once known. The air of arrogance he used to carry was gone, replaced by something much smaller, much weaker.“Matteo,” I greeted evenly, my voice giving away nothing. I didn’t sit; he wasn’t worthy of being in a room where I was also seated in. Instead, I stood tall, my gaze unwavering as I let hi
BIANCA’S POV Three months later, I was halfway through drafting an email when the door to my office cracked open. “Mommy, can I come in?” Luca’s voice rang out, all sweetness and patience that I knew wouldn’t last long. I looked up from my desk to see my six-year-old poking his head around the door, his brown curls slightly mussed from running around. Behind him, Alessandro leaned casually against the doorframe, his usual composed demeanor tempered by the amused smile playing at his lips. “Are you alone?” I teased, arching a brow. “Or are you bringing trouble with you?” Luca giggled and stepped in, revealing Lazarro trailing behind him. The ten-year-old was holding a bag that looked suspiciously like it contained illegal items, but he was a ten-year-old, how much trouble could he bring along? “Trouble is relative,” Alessandro quipped, stepping into the room and pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “And you’re the king of it,” I shot back with a smirk. Luca climbed onto my lap
ALESSANDRO’S POV“Looks like the future’s here,” Bianca murmured in reference to what the patriarch had said before, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. Her gaze was fixed on the Dobre patriarch, whose previously smug composure now seemed on the verge of crumbling.I tilted my head slightly and slipped a hand around her to bring her closer, unable to resist. “What a shame it’s not the one they envisioned.”Darren sauntered over with a large smile on his face, and I could relate to him. He had been wanting to release the information about Matteo for such a long time, and I was certain it felt like a balm on his wearied soul to finally enact revenge against the scum.“Showtime,” he said, just loud enough for us to hear. The crowd was awash with murmurs and people whispering loudly, clearly intending to target the Dobres and make sure they heard their speculations. Lumari was confused, Samuel was furious, and Toria was trying to play the good wife. The negative energy in the room had
ALESSANDRO’S POVI leaned against the marble pillar, my fingers drumming idly on the rim of my untouched champagne glass. The evening was a disaster. Not the catastrophic, bloody kind of disaster I was used to handling, but the sort of slow-burn chaos that made me wish I’d missed the whole spectacle in the first place.And of course, it all started with Giovanni.My younger brother’s camera crew was bustling around the room, shoving microphones and lenses into the faces of people who, mere minutes ago, had been dignified power players. Now, they were giddy fans jostling for selfies and sound bites, trying to get their good sides.Larisa was hanging on to my arm for dear life like I was going to fade away into dust if she didn’t, and irritation clawed up my throat. If Bianca had been beside me instead of this bitch, I would have been able to enjoy the look on the Dobre patriarch’s face as his revered gala became a celebrity meet-and-greet. I only had to wait a little; she was in the ro
LIMARI’S POVThe conversation had become a tangled mess of pleasantries, small talk, and carefully crafted smiles. It was all just so… predictable. I could feel the eyes on me, but not in the way I wanted. Tonight was supposed to be mine—mine to shine, mine to be the center of attention. I had worked hard for this, after all. I was the newest Dobre, the woman Samuel had chosen, the one who would help bring the family into the new age. I wasn’t just attending this gala; I was the gala.And yet, despite everything, my heart still thudded uneasily in my chest. The sensation wasn’t from Samuel, who stood tall beside me, a constant presence as calm as ever. No, the feeling came from Ricardo, Ricardo of all people, who, of course, had shown up looking effortlessly handsome, as though he hadn’t even tried. And, worse yet, he was with… her.Linda Collins.She stood beside him, the actress and writer who had quietly slipped into the crowd as though she owned it. People had already begun to rec