Married to My Ex Husband

The day Isabella Rose divorced Alexander Blackwood, she promised herself three things.

First, she would never cry over him again.

Second, she would never allow another arrogant man to control her life.

Third, if she ever saw Alexander Blackwood again, she would pretend he was nothing more than a mosquito she couldn't be bothered to kill.

Unfortunately, the universe had a terrible sense of humor.

Two years later, she was standing in front of a mirror, arguing with a zipper that had apparently declared war on her.

"Come on!" Isabella hissed, twisting her body. "You cost me half my salary. At least pretend you're worth the money!"

The zipper refused to cooperate.

She pulled harder.

There was a tiny ripping sound.

Isabella froze.

Slowly, she looked down.

"Oh, wonderful."

The dress had split along the side.

She stared at the damage for three seconds before throwing her hands into the air.

"I should have become a nun!"

Her best friend, Chloe Bennett, walked into the bedroom carrying a sandwich.

"Again?"

"Don't look at me like that."

"I'm not looking at you like anything. I'm looking at the dress that just lost a fight with your backside."

"CHLOE!"

"What? I'm supporting you emotionally."

"By insulting my backside?"

"Would you prefer financial support? Because I'm broke."

Isabella snatched a pillow and threw it at her.

Chloe ducked, laughing.

"Seriously, though," Chloe said, taking another bite of her sandwich. "You need to stop buying dresses online. The pictures always lie."

"This one said it was elegant and comfortable."

"It was probably elegant on a clothes hanger."

Isabella grabbed another dress from the wardrobe.

Tonight was supposed to be simple. Attend a business charity gala, meet potential clients, smile politely, and return home before midnight.

There was just one small problem.

The charity gala was being hosted by Blackwood Enterprises.

Alexander's company.

The company he had built into one of the most powerful business empires in the country.

The company whose CEO had once looked her in the eyes and told her that love was a luxury he couldn't afford.

Isabella swallowed the sudden bitterness in her throat.

Two years.

She had spent two years rebuilding herself after their divorce.

She had worked until her fingers ached, studied business management at night, and started her own event-planning company with almost no money.

Now, her business was finally growing.

She was no longer the frightened young woman who had signed divorce papers with trembling hands.

She was stronger.

Smarter.

And, according to Chloe, considerably more dangerous when hungry.

"I don't have to talk to him," Isabella announced.

Chloe raised an eyebrow.

"Of course not."

"I can attend the event without even looking at him."

"Absolutely."

"I don't care whether he's married, engaged, dating, or secretly raising twelve children."

"That's very convincing."

Isabella pointed at her. "One more word and I'll cancel your birthday cake."

Chloe immediately zipped her lips.

Twenty minutes later, Isabella stood in front of the mirror wearing an elegant emerald-green dress. Her dark curls fell over her shoulders, and a delicate gold necklace rested against her collarbone.

For the first time that evening, she smiled.

"Beautiful," Chloe declared.

"I know."

"Confident."

"Obviously."

"Emotionally stable."

Isabella picked up her handbag.

"Let's not exaggerate."

They arrived at the hotel shortly before eight.

Crystal chandeliers glittered above hundreds of wealthy guests. Waiters carried trays of champagne, photographers crowded around celebrities, and business executives exchanged smiles that probably concealed enough secrets to fill a library.

Isabella lifted her chin.

She belonged here.

She had earned her place.

Then the host stepped onto the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our distinguished guest and tonight's principal sponsor, the CEO of Blackwood Enterprises, Mr. Alexander Blackwood."

Applause erupted.

Isabella's fingers tightened around her handbag.

A tall man walked onto the stage in a perfectly tailored black suit.

His dark hair was neatly styled. His jaw was sharper than she remembered, and his expression remained cold enough to freeze the champagne in everyone's glasses.

Alexander Blackwood.

Her ex-husband.

The man she had sworn never to love again.

He accepted the microphone and surveyed the room.

Then his gaze stopped.

On her.

For one brief moment, his expression changed.

His fingers tightened around the microphone.

Isabella smiled sweetly and lifted her champagne glass in a silent toast.

Hello, darling. Did you miss me?

Alexander stared at her as if he had just seen a ghost.

Then, slowly, he smiled.

It wasn't a friendly smile.

It was the kind of smile that made sensible people check whether the exits were unlocked.

And Isabella suddenly remembered why divorcing him had been the easiest decision of her life.

Unfortunately, forgetting him had been much harder.