Gabriel's POV

"Babe, what about the bags and money you promised me?"

Every morning, without fail. Her voice was like an alarm I couldn't turn off, and I was starting to feel like I was trapped in a nightmare. Emmanuella was obsessed with material things, and I could barely stomach it anymore. How did I not see this before I married her? Worse, how could I have left my loyal wife, Rebecca, for someone like her?

It's only been a month since the wedding, and I already knew I had traded a diamond for a stone. Sure, Emmanuella was beautiful-no one could deny that-but beauty fades. The reality? It's hitting me harder than I expected. I was a fool. A complete fool.

During one of my interviews after the divorce, someone asked me why I left Rebecca. Back then, I said she wasn't as flashy as Emmanuella, that I needed someone who could boost my company's image. What a shallow thing to say. If I had just asked Rebecca to dress differently, to be more in line with what I thought I wanted, she would've done it without hesitation. Because that's who she was-loyal, loving, always trying to please me.

But instead, I chased after someone whose only goal was extravagance. In just one month, I've bought Emmanuella 366 bags, 400 shoes, and 30 wigs. Honestly, I lost count of the dresses. It sounds ridiculous, but this is my reality now. Every day, it's the same: "Babe, what about the bags and cash you promised?"

I'm done. Absolutely done. I've learned my lesson the hard way. I want back what I threw away. Rebecca was everything-modest, understanding, and the best cook I'd ever known. Emmanuella couldn't even make toast without burning it.

I can't believe I threw away someone who loved me that much... and I even tried to kill her. Yes, that night when I hit Rebecca with my car, crashing into the streetlight, trying to silence her. What was I thinking? Was I that desperate? The memory churned my stomach. The guilt was a heavy blanket that suffocated me daily.

I opened my laptop, my hands trembling as I searched for any trace of Rebecca online. I needed to know if she was okay. Did she make it? Was she even still alive? My heart raced as I typed her name into Facebook, hoping-praying-for a sign.

Her last post hit me like a punch to the gut. It was about me. About how she had planned to surprise me on my birthday with a gift at the office. She never got to give it to me. My chest tightened as I stared at the screen. Rebecca had always been so thoughtful. Always giving, even when I didn't deserve it. Emmanuella, on the other hand? I could buy her a whole mall, and she wouldn't even think to get me a pair of socks.

I moved to her Instagram profile, scrolling, desperate for updates. But her last post was the same as Facebook. My panic grew. I needed to know if she was okay. If she made it. Then it hit me-Natasha, her best friend. If anyone knew where Rebecca was or how she was doing, it would be her.

I searched for Natasha's profile, and my heart sank as soon as I saw it. A picture of Rebecca lying unconscious in a hospital bed, hooked up to drips. The caption read, "Pray for us. It's really bad."

My chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself. The guilt was overwhelming. I wanted to scream, to punch something, to take a gun and end it all. How had I let things get this far? I was the reason she was there, and I couldn't undo what I'd done.

But I couldn't let it end this way. Not without trying to make things right. I had to see her. I had to ask for her forgiveness.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Natasha's number, my hands shaking. It rang once... twice... then cut off. I called again. Still nothing. The message kept repeating, "Number busy." Over and over.

She had blocked me.

Natasha had always been kind and supportive, always there for Rebecca and me. I couldn't blame her for blocking my number now. After everything I had done, I deserved it. But I needed to know-was Rebecca okay? Was she even conscious?

Frustrated, I scrolled through Natasha's posts, searching for clues. There was no location tagged in the hospital photo. Nothing that told me where Rebecca was.

Just as I was about to give up, my Instagram feed refreshed, and a new post appeared on my screen. The headline hit me like a truck.

Rebecca is the new president of Valentine's Conglomerate?

I stared at the screen in shock, my mind reeling. Valentine's Conglomerate was one of the biggest companies in Mandena, one I had always admired. And now Rebecca, my ex-wife, was their president?

My heart ached. It felt like it was being ripped apart. How could this be? Was Rebecca an heir to the conglomerate all along, and I had no idea? Or had she risen to this position out of sheer resilience?

The questions swirled in my mind, but one thing was clear-I had underestimated Rebecca. I had taken her for granted, assuming I could walk away and be fine. Now, more than ever, I wanted her back. But after all I had done... Was there even a chance?

As I scrolled through more posts about her new role, I felt a mixture of pride and regret. She had always been capable, always had that spark. It was infuriating to realize that I hadn't appreciated her enough when I had the chance. My heart raced at the thought of reaching out, of begging her for another opportunity.

But would she even consider it? After the pain I caused? 

With my heart in my throat, I steeled myself. I couldn't just sit here in regret. I had to find a way to make things right, to prove to her that I was still the man she once loved.

Rebecca's POV

Just as Natasha turned the laptop screen toward me, I stared at Gabriel's bank information. Everything inside me screamed to make him learn this lesson-instantly.

"Find an orphanage, empty the bank account, and let's move on to the next one," I said to Natasha, my voice calm but laced with resolve. She nodded without hesitation, her fingers poised over the keyboard.

Emptying Gabriel's bank account was, of course, one of the easiest things for Natasha to do. With just a hit of a button, his account would be wiped clean, and the transfer history would vanish as if it never existed.

He'd go crazy-furious-at the realization that, suddenly, his millions were gone.

I smirked at the thought, my pulse quickening with satisfaction. Finally, I gave the second order to Natasha. "Do it now."

However, Natasha hesitated. "Uh... Rebecca, I think Gabriel is calling me, but the call isn't connecting. I blocked him, remember?"

She held up her phone, showing me the screen. There it was, a missed call notification at the top. Gabriel's name flashing-trying to reach out, but blocked. He was trying. Desperately.

I couldn't stop the small smile from creeping onto my face. Unless I was a fool, I knew why Gabriel was calling Natasha. He had no other way to reach me.

I had changed my number, making myself utterly inaccessible. I'd deactivated my Facebook and Instagram, and though it would take seven days to permanently delete the accounts, he could no longer send me messages or stalk my social media.

Gabriel knew Natasha was my friend, the only person who might have access to me. Of course, he saw the news. He had to know I was now the president of Valentine Conglomerate. And now, like clockwork, he wanted me back.

"Unblock him, Natasha. Let's hear what the cheating dog has to say," I ordered, my voice cool, detached.

Natasha pressed a few buttons on her phone, and as if Gabriel had been waiting the whole time, his call came through instantly.

"Hello, Natasha." His voice-deep, familiar, once so intoxicating-filled the room. I felt a flicker of something, but it vanished just as quickly. There was a time when his voice would make my heart race, when I would've melted at just the sound of it. But now? Now, I hated it. I hated the forced accent, the false charm. I saw through him, through every word he spoke.

"What?" Natasha answered coldly, her tone conveying just how little time she had for him. It was clear she found his call an annoyance, something to get through as quickly as possible.

I imagined the effect it would have on Gabriel. And I wasn't wrong. He rushed his words, the desperation in his voice seeping through.

"I know I messed up, Natasha. Really, I do. I'm sorry. I've been thinking about it nonstop. I just want to make things right with Rebecca. Please, just... just connect me with her. I'm begging you."

Gabriel sounded so sincere. If I didn't know better, I might have believed him. But I knew exactly what this was-an opportunist's plea. He wasn't sorry for what he did. He wasn't sorry for breaking me, for shattering our marriage. He was only sorry because now, I was someone. I had power. I was the one holding the cards, and he couldn't stand being on the outside.

How could anyone who had cheated on me in my face, divorced me the same day, and tried to kill me afterward be genuine? The thought of it made my skin crawl. He was as fake as the world he lived in. I could smell his desperation through the phone.

But teaching him an instant lesson would be too easy. No, Gabriel needed to suffer-slowly. He needed to learn the hard way that I was beyond him now, and he would never have me again. I wanted to crush him to the bone marrow until he regretted every second he had ever known me.

I smirked again, this time with satisfaction. Then I leaned toward Natasha, motioning for her to block the phone's mouthpiece so Gabriel couldn't hear us.

"I have another idea. Tell him you'll text him a location. He should meet me there at 7 p.m. tomorrow."

Natasha blinked, clearly confused. "Are you serious? We should be draining his bank accounts, not setting up meetings with him!"

I understood her concern. She thought I was wavering, that maybe Gabriel's polished apology had gotten under my skin. But I had no intention of letting Gabriel back into my life.

"Relax, Natasha. There's a new plan. We'll make him pay slowly while he thinks he's winning me back," I replied, a slow smile creeping onto my face.

Natasha's confusion morphed into understanding, and she mirrored my smirk. She was sharp; it didn't take long for her to catch on.

"Listen, i'll text you a location. You should be there at 7 p.m. tomorrow." Natasha said back to Gabriel on the phone and hence we both heard as the son of a bitch appreciated. 

"Thank you so much Natasha. I promise, you won't regret this. I swear on my life. I will be there by..." Natasha did not allow him to finish talking before hanging up the call on him. 

Without another word, Natasha opened a new window on her browser and began searching for the perfect restaurant for the meeting. Somewhere fancy, somewhere where I could show him how far I'd risen above him.

One thing was certain-I was going to show off in front of that bastard. He would know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was out of his league now. He'd crave my acceptance, my forgiveness, but I'd keep him dangling, desperate, hoping.

And when he thought he had me? When he thought he could have his old life back?

That's when I'd destroy him.

I'd toss him aside like the rag he once discarded me as. He wouldn't see it coming, and it would hurt him even more than anything I could do to his money.

Rebecca's POV

As I walked into the restaurant, I saw the way he looked at me, like he had seen his queen approaching. His eyes lit up, and I could feel his gaze linger, drinking in every detail as though I were something precious he'd lost and just found again. I could tell he loved what he saw. But if he thought I liked what I saw, he deceived himself.

The man sitting across from me was nothing more than a shell of who I once knew. A man who killed my mother would never look good in my eyes, no matter how sharp his suit or how well he cleaned up.

After taking my seat, I ordered wine, ignoring his lingering gaze. "You look beautiful, Rebecca," he exclaimed, his voice hopeful, almost eager. He waited for a reaction, for any sign of warmth from me. But did I care? No. His words slid right off me like water off a stone. I remained cold, unfazed.

"Have your seat, Mr. Moretti," I said, gesturing for him to sit. His face betrayed a moment of shock. He expected me to melt at his compliment, to smile and indulge his attempts at charm, but I wasn't here to stroke his ego. The surprise in his eyes quickly turned to discomfort as he realized that I wasn't the same woman he thought he'd left behind.

He sat down, awkwardly shifting in his chair. The tension in the air thickened as I spoke again, "Why do you want to see me, Mr. Moretti?"

The sound of my voice seemed to snap something in him. His expression crumbled, and before I could react, he dropped to his knees right there in the middle of the restaurant. He looked around, embarrassed, checking if anyone was watching. But there was no one here but us and a few employees going about their business. It didn't matter. He was desperate enough to make a scene if he had to.

"I wronged you, Rebecca," he began, his voice trembling. "I cheated on you, and I divorced you without thinking. Please forgive me."

I almost laughed. Did he really think those words were enough? Did he think I was some naive fool who would fall for this pathetic act of contrition? My mind flashed back to the night that changed everything-when his car hit me, sending my world spiraling into darkness. He left me there, bleeding, broken. And now he expected me to believe he was sorry?

I scoffed, the sound echoing in the empty restaurant. He thought he could brush over that. But even if I set aside what he'd done to me, what about my mother? His apology wasn't going to bring her back.

"I beg you, Rebecca," he continued, his eyes pleading. "I don't know what came over me. You gave me everything a wife could give, and I threw it all away. I cheated on you with some chick in my office."

There it was again. Another lie, as transparent as glass. His tone was almost dismissive as he referred to his secretary as'some chick.' If she had meant so little to him, would he have married her the second I was out of the picture? My lips curled into a smirk. The hypocrisy was laughable.

I took a slow sip of my wine, savoring the taste as I let the silence stretch between us. He thought he could manipulate me with his words, but I had no intention of making this easy for him. 

I'd been right before, and I was going to be right again-he didn't deserve a quick lesson. No, this man needed to learn his lesson slowly, painfully. He would reap the fruits of his betrayal, and I would ensure that every single moment of it stung.

But for now, I decided to play along. If he thought he was clever, I'd show him that I could be even more devious. I would mend his broken heart just so I could shatter it into a thousand pieces, the same way he had done to mine.

I reached out and took his hands in mine, my voice soft and sweet as I said, "Gabriel." I trailed off as I felt something-a subtle vibration through his hand. His phone. It was buzzing in his pocket, set to vibrate. I smiled inwardly. I knew exactly who was calling him. It wasn't hard to guess.

His wife.

I could almost hear her voice in my head, worried and suspicious. A woman who knew deep down that her husband was a cheat. If she had any sense, she'd have tailed him. No doubt she was nearby, watching, heartbroken to see her husband on his knees before his ex-wife.

I tightened my grip on Gabriel's hand, pulling him closer to me. "I forgive you, Gabriel," I lied, pressing a light kiss to his forehead.

His face lit up with relief. He thought this was over, that we could return to whatever illusion of normalcy he had in his mind. He quickly got back into his seat, ordering wine with an eagerness that was almost pathetic. He was ready to talk, to play the role of the repentant lover, as though we hadn't been separated. As though he hadn't tried to kill me.

I smiled sweetly, masking the dark thoughts swirling in my mind. He had no idea what I had planned.

"I have more information about his connections, Rebecca. We'll focus on that when you get here," Natasha's voice buzzed softly through the customized earbud in my ear.

Before coming to the restaurant, Natasha had handed me this tiny device, custom-made to blend with my skin. It allowed her to stay in constant communication with me without Gabriel-or anyone else-noticing. The earbud was invisible to the eye, just another secret weapon in my arsenal.

I glanced at Gabriel, his face relaxed and content, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around him. I scoffed inwardly. He was doomed, and by the time he realized it, it would be far too late.