My Ex-Husband Wants Me Back

"Joseph, one billion. You can only save one."

In a daze, Myla Rutherford heard the kidnappers negotiating over the phone.

The warehouse was dark, with no light at all, except for a ventilation window that was only five centimeters wide. Outside, faint shadows of overgrown weeds swayed in the wind.

Three days of captivity had brought her to the brink. No food, no water, only despair.

Myla’s wrists, bound tightly behind her, throbbed with pain as she desperately widened her eyes.

Three days ago, she was abducted. Along with her, Livia Wyndham—the woman Joseph Kensington had adored for a decade—was also kidnapped.

The ransom demanded was exorbitant, but the terms cruel. Only one of them could survive: either she or Livia.

For some reason, even as Joseph's lawful wife and the mother of his unborn child, Myla felt no confidence against Livia.

Why would she?

In the year since their wedding, Joseph’s eyes never lingered on her. Perhaps because she was naturally unattractive with the saucer-sized birthmark on her left cheek, which made her the target of disdain within the Kensington family.

Their marriage was born not of love but obligation—an aftermath of a tragic accident.

A year ago, their cars collided.

In that accident, Joseph shielded Livia, sustaining injuries so severe he slipped into a coma.

Myla, too, had suffered, awakening with no memory of her past—not even her own name.

For three months, Joseph lay motionless.

Desperate, the Madam Kensington turned to a feng shui master, who said that Myla’s presence could dispel misfortune.. The calamities were caused by her and could only be resolved by her.

Under the guidance of the master, the Madam Kensington renamed her "Myla Rutherford" after her own lineage. Then, she arranged a wedding for Myla and Joseph.

On the wedding night, Joseph miraculously woke.

The first thing after waking was a demand for divorce. But soon after, Myla discovered her pregnancy. The child, the future heir of the Kensington dynasty, became her lifeline. The Madam Kensington threatened her life and even uttered harsh words, saying that as long as she was alive, Livia could never set foot in the Kensington family.

But now? This kidnapping could change everything.

If Myla died, Livia could finally take her place in Joseph’s life.

The bandit suddenly moved toward Livia, tore off the tape from her mouth, and handed the phone to her.

Livia cried out in panic, "Joseph, I'm scared... so scared. Please save me!"

On the other end, Joseph’s sharp intake of breath was audible. His voice, always commanding, softened in reassurance. "Livia, don’t worry. I’m here."

Myla's lips trembled heavily. She also wanted to speak to Joseph, even if it was just a word.

She was afraid that he would abandon her.

Minutes passed in agonizing silence.

Then Joseph’s voice returned, low and deliberate.

"Myla... I’m sorry."

The apology struck her like a blade.

Her trembling grew violent as the reality set in.

He had made his choice.

Livia.

What about her?

Was he truly so heartless that he could let her die?

Her wide, tear-filled eyes fixated on the phone in the kidnapper’s hand. She wanted to scream, to beg him to save her. But her mouth was gagged and she couldn't make a sound no matter how hard she tried. Silent tears became her only answer.

The bandit snatched the phone back, his voice icy "Alright, Joseph. Give me your answer."

The air hung thick with silence, an agonizing void that stretched endlessly.

Myla clenched her lips tightly, her heart gripped tightly.

The tension was unbearable, each second dragging her closer to breaking.

Finally, Joseph's voice shattered the quiet. "I agree to all your demands, but if you dare to harm a single hair on Livia's head, I will end your life!"

Myla's eyes widened, shock paralyzing her body, and then the light in her eyes dimmed.

Her strength gave out, and she slumped in the chair, her tears flowing silently. It was as though her very soul had been stolen.

He didn’t choose her. He didn’t want her.

Even their unborn child meant nothing to him.

"Joseph, this is the choice you made!" the bandit let out a cruel chuckle. Ending the call, the man yanked the tape from Myla's mouth.

She gasped for air, and she despairingly opened her mouth. In the end, she could only weakly utter a question, "Why..." Her voice cracked, raw with pain and disbelief.

She was still having his child!

The bandit moved to Livia, slicing the ropes that bound her with exaggerated courtesy. "Ms. Wyndham, please."

Livia stood, a strange, knowing smile played at her lips before she turned and walked away.

Myla sat frozen, her tears falling without restraint. She was nothing to Joseph now—just discarded shoes left behind.

The doctor had told her she was carrying twins.

Two lives.

Would Joseph condemn them to death too? Were they not even worth being born?

Could he be so heartless?

"I can’t die! Let me go!"

The maternal instinct kicked in, and she struggled fiercely. The chair toppled to the ground, and she was tightly bound by ropes, unable to move. She only felt a sharp pain in her lower abdomen, as if it was a sign of giving birth!

Her heart seized with terror. A sharp, relentless pain wracked her lower body. She was going into premature labor.

The bandit turned and saw that she was still struggling desperately. He stormed over and struck the back of her neck with a brutal chop.

Pain exploded in her neck, and darkness swallowed her whole.

When she woke again, the warehouse was ablaze. Raging flames consumed the warehouse.

The fire’s searing heat licked at her skin.

As the flames flickered, the burnt beams kept falling down.

Myla slowly opened her eyes and looked up at the endless fire, clutching her abdomen which was occasionally wracked with pain, causing her whole body to convulse.

Cold sweat mingled with tears as flashes of memory blazed through her mind like a reel of her life.

And then, she remembered.

She wasn’t Myla Rutherford.

She was Elianna Carrington.

The beloved daughter of the Carrington family in Bryston, a woman who had once been cherished and adored.

Now, she remembered everything.

The burnt ruins kept falling down. Death loomed closer, but her heart burned with a hatred fiercer than the flames around her.

She crawled to a corner, leaving a trail of blood behind her, but she didn't care about that at all. She clawed her way toward the phone the kidnappers had confiscated earlier, its faint glint barely visible through the smoke. She looked at the collapsing ruins, still clutching her severely painful abdomen with both hands. "Baby, don't be afraid... Mommy's here. Mommy will protect you. Always."

Her fingers trembled as she picked up the phone. There was only one bar of signal.

Praying for a miracle, Elianna dialed a number.

Meanwhile.

A skyscraper located in the heart of the CBD.

In the Vice President's Office, Tyson Carrington answered the phone.

"Hello?"

A familiar yet unfamiliar voice came from the other end. "Tyson... it's me."

The man suddenly stood up, his voice trembling with overwhelming surprise: "Elianna? You're still alive! Where have you been all this time? The entire Carrington Group has been going crazy looking for you! We haven't heard a word from you in a year, and Grandfather has fallen ill and been bedridden for six months!"

Elianna's feeble voice came through again, filled with grievance and despair, tugging at one's heart: "Tyson... I was in danger. Please, come and save me quickly!"

"Elianna, don't be afraid. I'll come and take you home right away!"

After the call ended, Elianna collapsed weakly to the ground as sharp pain tore through her lower abdomen. Her amniotic fluid broke, staining her skirt with fresh blood. Just before losing consciousness again, she faintly heard the sound of a baby's cry echoing in her ears.