Rise of the Formidable Ex-wife (Lucia and Alex) novel Chapter 109

Chapter 109

Chapter 109

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The whiskey burned Marco hroat as he poured another glass. His third. Or was it his fourth? He’d lost count after leaving the chaos at home. The hotel bar was dim and quiet, exactly what he needed after Margaret’s screaming and the broken glass scattered across his living room floor

His hands shook as he lifted the glass to his lips The amber liquid sloshed against the sides, catching the low light from the bar’s hanging lamps. He drank it all in one gulp, feeling the fire spread through his chest.

“Another.” he called to the bartender, his voice already thick

The ran behind the bar looked at him with concern. “Sir, maybe you should slow down.”

“I said another.” Marco’s tone cut through the air like a blade.

The bartender poured reluctantly. Marco grabbed the glass before the man dould even finish, downing half of it immediately.

The alcohol was starting to work its magic, blurring the sharp edges of his pain. But it couldn’t stop the memories from coming. They crashed over him in waves, each one more painful than the last.

Lucia making coffee in their kitchen, humming softly as she moved around the counter. Her hair was always messy in the mornings, falling in gentle waves around her shoulders. She never bothered with makeup until after breakfast, and Marco used to love seeing her that way. Natural, unguarded, beautiful without trying.

“You’re staring,” she would say with a laugh when she caught him watching her.

“Can’t help it,” he would reply. “You’re gorgeous.”

And she would blush, even after fifteen years of marriage. Even after three children and countless mornings together, she still blushed when he complimented her.

Marco finished his drink and immediately poured another from the bottle he’d convinced the bartender to leave on his table. The memories kept coming, relentless and cruel.

Lucia at Ria’s first dance recital, tears streaming down her face as their little girl stumbled through her routine. She was so proud, so full of love for their daughter. After the show, she hugged Ria tight and whispered, “You were perfect, baby. Absolutely perfect.”

Marco had been on a business call that night. He’d missed the whole thing.

“Stop,” he whispered to himself, but the memories wouldn’t stop.

Lucia staying up all night when Lucas had pneumonia, holding their son while he coughed and cried. She didn’t sleep for three days, just sat in the rocking chair by his bed, singing lullabies in her soft voice. When Marco suggested getting a nurse, she’d looked at him like he’d spoken a foreign language.

“He needs his mother,” she’d said simply. “Not a stranger.”

The whiskey was making everything fuzzy now, but the pain in his chest was still sharp. He poured another drink, his hand getting clumsier with each pour.

Lucia laughing at something stupid he’d said during dinner. Her whole face would light up when she laughed, and the sound was like music. She laughed easily back then, before the business started taking over his life. Before the stress and the long hours and the distance that grew between them like a wall.

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12:01 pm P P pp.

Chapter 109

When did he stop making her laugh? When did he stop trying?

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Marco’s phone buzzed on the table beside his bottle. A text message. For a wild, desperate moment, he thought it might be Lucia. Maybe she’d seen the news stories and felt sorry for him. Maybe she wanted to talk.

But it was just Margaret, *“Where are you? Come home. We need to talk.”*

Marco stared at the message until the words blured together. Margaret. His wife. The woman he’d left Lucia for

But sitting here, drowning in whiskey and memories, he couldn’t remember why. What had Margaret given him that Lucia hadn’t? Youth? Beauty? Excitement?

Lucia had been beautiful too. Not in Margaret’s flashy way, but in something deeper. Something real. Lucia’s beauty came from her kindness, her strength, the way she made everyone around her feel safe and loved.

And excitement? Marco laughed bitterly. Margaret’s idea of excitement was throwing tantrums and breaking furniture. Lucia’s excitement had been quieter. Surprising him with tickets to a concert he’d mentioned wanting to see. Planning weekend trips to places they’d never been. Staying up late talking about their dreams.

Dreams they’d shared. Dreams he’d thrown away.

Another drink. The bottle was getting lighter now, easier to lift. Marco’s vision was swimming, but his mind was becoming clearer in the strangest way. Like the alcohol was washing away all the lies he’d been telling himself.

He’d been happy with Lucia. Really, truly happy. Their life together had been calm, peaceful, full of small joys and quiet love. Coming home to her smile every night. Watching her with their children. Growing older together, building something solid and real

But he’d gotten bored. Bored with calm. Bored with peace. He’d wanted drama, passion, something that made him feel young again.

And Margaret had given him that. Wild nights and public scenes and constant uncertainty. But what he’d thought was passion was really just chaos. What he’d thought was excitement was really just exhaustion.

“Stupid,” he muttered, pouring another drink. “So damn stupid.”

His phone rang. Marco squinted at the screen, trying to focus. Margaret again. He declined the call and immediately poured more whiskey.

A new memory hit him like a physical blow. Lucia on their wedding day, walking down the aisle in her grandmother’s dress. She was so young, so radiant, so full of hope. She’d looked at him like he was her whole world. Like he was everything she’d ever wanted.

And he had been, for a while. They’d been everything to each other.

The tears came without warning, hot and bitter. Marco buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs he couldn’t control.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to the empty air. “Lucia, I’m so sorry.”

But sorry wouldn’t bring her back. Sorry wouldn’t undo the damage he’d done. Sorry was just another empty word, like the promises he’d broken and the vows he’d shattered.

His phone buzzed again. This time it was a news alert. Another story about him. About the investigation into his company. About his failing marriage and his public humiliation.

Marco read the headline through blurry eyes: “Hart Industries CEO’s Empire Crumbles as Fraud Investigation Deepens.

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12:01 pm P PPP.

Chapter 109

Fraud investigation. Einancial irregularities. Potential criminal charges.

But Marco knew the truth. He knew who was really behind his downfall.

Alexander Kane.

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The rage hit him like a thunderbolt, burning through the alcohol haze. Alexander had done this Alexander had taken Lucia away from him and now he was destroying everything else Marco had built.

That snake had been waiting years for his chance at revenge. He’d probably planned this whole thing from the beginning. Seducing Lucia, turning her against him, using her pain to justify his attack on Marco’s life.

“You bastard.” Marco growled, his fist clenching around his phone. “You manipulative bastard.”

Everything made sense now. The sudden business problems. The partners pulling out. The media stories. It wasn’t coincidence. It was warfare. Alexander was using his money and connections to systematically destroy Marco’s life.

But why? Because he was jealous. Because he’d always wanted what Marco had. Lucia, success, respect. Alexander had been watching from the sidelines, waiting for his moment to strike.

Now Alexander thought he’d won. He thought he could steal Marco’s wife and destroy his legacy.

3

He was wrong.

Marco pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found the number he wanted. David Chen. Private investigator. The best in the business, and completely without morals when the price was right.

The phone rang twice before David answered.

“Marco? Little late for business calls, isn’t it?”

“I need you to speed up that investigation,” Marco said, his words slurring slightly. “Alexander Kane. I want everything you can find on him. Every dirty secret, every skeleton in his closet.”

“I told you this would take time.”

“I don’t have time!” Marco’s voice exploded through the quiet bar. The few other patrons turned to stare, but he didn’t care. “That bastard is destroying my life while you’re taking your sweet time digging through old records!”

“Marco, you’re drunk. Maybe we should talk about this tomorrow.”

“I’m drunk, but I’m not stupid. Alexander Kane thinks he’s untouchable because he’s rich and powerful. But everyone has secrets, David. Everyone has something they don’t want the world to know.”

Marco leaned back in his chair, the whiskey making him feel invincible. “Find his secrets. Find what he’s hiding. I don’t care how much it costs or how long you have to work. I want ammunition.”

“And then what?”

*Then I destroy him the same way he’s destroying me.” Marco’s smile was cold, vicious. “And when he’s broken and ruined, take back what’s mine.

“You mean Lucia.”

“She’s my wife. The mother of my children. She belongs with me, not with some snake who’s been obsessing over her for years. Marco poured another drink, his hands steadier now that he had a plan. “Alexander poisoned her mind against me, but when she sees what kind of man he really is, she’ll come back.”

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