Chapter 1

Three years after the divorce, my ex-husband Julian showed up with roses, grinning like he'd already won.

"Babe, I kept my word. Right on time to get you back."

Three years ago, he played Truth or Dare with his friends and lost to his childhood sweetheart Serena.

Serena had a request:

"I want to see if you and your wife are really in love."

"So you two get divorced. Three years. No contact."

"If she remarries you after three years, I'll admit it's true love."

He and Serena never had boundaries—always flirting, always blurring the lines.

We fought about it constantly.

I thought he'd say no.

He agreed without hesitation:

"Deal! "

His friend tried to stop him: "Dude, think this through! Divorce isn't a joke!"

He looked at me like it was already settled:

"I trust what we have. My wife's obsessed with me for life."

"She'll definitely remarry me!"

I didn't say a word.

He had no idea that was his last chance.

Back to the present—he shoved the flowers at me.

I didn't take them. Stepped back. Voice flat:

"My husband doesn't let me take flowers from other men."

…

A smirk tugged at Julian's lips.

"Mad at me?"

"Come on, I'm here now, aren't I?"

"Be good. Don't be mad."

His tone was syrupy, convinced I was playing hard to get.

Like before, he moved in to pull me close.

I stepped back again. Face harder now:

"Mr. Chase, keep your distance!"

His hand froze mid-air, eyes still glued to my face, all soft and loving.

"Really pissed this time?"

"Tell me what'll make you feel better. Anything."

Still thought he could sweet-talk his way out of it, like always.

He stepped closer.

Every step he took, I took one back.

His eyes flared with that hunting look, like he was already claiming me.

"Julian, three years is enough to change everything."

He nodded like he agreed: "True."

My back hit the wall. Nowhere left to go.

He caged me in, hands on either side of my head—his signature move.

Back when we were dating, he loved pinning me against walls, kissing me under the moonlight.

"Did you have a boy? Or a girl?"

His hand came up to cup my face, thumb stroking my cheek.

The thought of that baby still tore through my chest.

Three years ago, he knew I was pregnant. After he lost that stupid game—

At Serena's demand, he divorced me anyway.

Three years. No texts. No calls. Nothing.

Now he had the nerve to assume I'd have his kid, sit around waiting for him to come back!

A bitter smile curled my lips. Before I could tell him I got rid of it, his phone rang.

He pulled it out.

The screen lit up with a contact name: Little Princess.

That's what he called Serena.

I'd seen it a thousand times—the way he'd pat her head, grin, and say she'd been his little princess since they were kids!

Never gave a damn how it made me feel when I was still his wife.

He answered immediately.

"Julian, please, come quick—I'm on my period and it hurts so bad."

Serena's whiny crying came through the speaker.

Julian's eyes filled with panic:

"Don't worry, I'm coming right now."

He hung up.

Gave my head a quick pat like I was some obedient pet:

"I gotta check on Serena. I'll come find you later."

Before I could blink, he was gone.