All Chapters of Ex-Wife Perfect Revenge : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

{Martha's Pov}I looked at Peter’s hand for a moment, debating whether or not to accept it. Refusing might create a scene that could arouse suspicion. Forcing a thin smile, I placed my hand in his palm.He brought it close to his lips, placing a soft kiss on my knuckles. “It’s a pleasure,” he said, his tone smooth and confident. I quickly pulled my hand away, my skin crawling at the contact.Peter’s gaze lingered, his sharp eyes tracing every inch of my features with unsettling intensity. My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to remain composed. He finally turned to Nathan, acting as though nothing had happened. I kept my expression neutral, a picture of innocence, as though this man wasn’t the same person who had broken my heart and ruined my life years ago.“Let’s grab a drink,” Rachel said, her voice sharp with jealousy. She turned to us, her forced smile as thin as paper. “We’ll be right back.” Without waiting for a response, she linked arms with Peter and trotted off, her postu

{Peter's Pov}Ever since I set my eyes on her, I just couldn't look away. She is beautiful, undoubtedly the most curviest and sexiest woman I've ever seen.I shoved my hand into my hair, brushing it back as I sank into the chair, swirling the glass of wine in my hand slowly. The way her golden-brown eyes pierced into mine when I took her hand and kissed it softly, God, I wish I could do more.I wish I were the one standing next to her instead of Nathan. I'm sure he doesn't have much time for her anyway.I took a sip of my drink, the coldness of the liquor doing little to cool the heat of emotions churning within me.But the feeling faded as Rachel approached me, her face laced with guilt as she sank into the seat opposite me.“All I did was tell her what I thought, and she attacked me like I’d said something terrible,” she hissed, almost to herself, as she sat down, dragging me out of my thoughts.I leaned back in my chair, setting the glass on the table. “What’s the problem, honey?”

{Martha's POV}“You deserve it, Martha,” Mrs. Evans said as we pulled away from the hug.I still couldn’t believe it, everything felt like a dream. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Evans. How can I ever repay you?”Mrs. Evans smiled as she gently took my hands, pulling me toward the couch. We both sat down. She squeezed my hands softly and reached over to tuck a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.“You don’t have to repay me, honey. You’ve given me something far more precious,” she said calmly. “By staying here with my son, you’ve given me something I’ve been longing for, a day when he would finally find a girl who loves him genuinely.”I blushed at Mrs. Evans’ words, but she was right. Ever since I met Nathan, I’d never experienced heartbreak. He always put me first before himself, even though I've asked him several times not to. “No, ma’am. It’s you and your son I should be thanking. You’ve been there for me, even when I was a stranger.”She chuckled at my words. “I like your energy, Mar

{Martha's POV}A cold chill ran down my spine, mingling with an unsettling feeling as the car pulled into the familiar parking lot of the mansion. Tears threatened to roll down my cheeks as I blinked rapidly, trying my best not to let them fall, or for Nathan to notice.The entire environment was a painful reminder of my parents' death, the day Peter divorced me, and the cruelty he had shown me. I never thought I would set foot in this mansion again, until today.I cast a glance at Nathan as the car came to a stop. The look on his face clearly reflected a similar unease. He paused, staring straight ahead for a moment, before turning to me.“How are you feeling?” he asked with a warm smile, his tired eyes searching mine.“I’m fine. Puffs, we’re here,” I stammered, forcing a smile and rolling my eyes to mask my discomfort.He shrugged, reaching out to softly take my hand before stepping out of the car. I followed, and as I shut the door, I took a deep, steadying breath while Nathan posi

{Martha's POV} As Nathan pulled out of the parking lot, he glanced in my direction with a comforting smile before turning his focus back to the road. He didn’t say a word, and neither did I. The silence in the car stretched on, heavy and unyielding, as he navigated down the highway. It was obvious he didn’t believe my excuse. The furrow of his brows and the way his fingers tightened around the steering wheel told me his mind was elsewhere, likely trying to piece things together on his own. When we reached the house, Nathan parked the car and turned toward me, his eyes fixed on mine, filled with uncertainty. “My love, promise me you’ll be honest with me,” he said, his voice soft but firm. I swallowed hard, my gaze fluttering as I struggled to find the words. Why now? Why was he asking this? And how was I supposed to give him what he was asking for? “I promise, I’ll be honest with you,” I finally managed, my voice barely audible. He paused, his gaze searching my face as though