Rise of the Formidable Ex-wife (Lucia and Alex) novel Chapter 169

Chapter 169

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Marco sat in his home office, laptop open on the desk in front of him. The screen glowed in the dim room, casting shadows across his face. He’d been nursing the same glass of whiskey for an hour, the ice long melted, diluting the amber liquid to a watery brown.

His phone had been ringing nonstop. Friends. Business associates. Even his own mother. Everyone wanted to know if what those kids were saying was true. Everyone had questions he couldn’t answer without sounding like a monster. He’d ignored them all. Let each call go to voicemail. Let the messages pile up unheard.

But he couldn’t ignore the notification that popped up on his laptop. A tagged post from someone he didn’t even know. A link to a video with a caption that made his blood run cold.

“Hart children tell their truth. This is devastating.”

Marco’s finger hovered over the trackpad. Part of him didn’t want to click. Didn’t want to see what poison his children had spread about him. But the other part, the part that still believed he could control this situation, needed to know.

He clicked.

The video loaded. Lucas appeared on screen first, sitting between his sisters on what looked like an expensive couch in a sunroom Marco had never seen. The room screamed money. Everything about it screamed Alexander Kane.

Marco’s jaw tightened.

Then Lucas spoke. “Our biological father, Marco Hart, has been telling people that we were stolen from him.” “Damn right you were stolen.” Marco whispered to the empty office.

But the video kept playing. Monica’s face filled the screen, tears already streaming. She talked about Margaret throwing away her art. About being told she was plain. About being made to feel worthless.

Marco’s hand tightened around the glass. Some of that might be true. Margaret had been hard on the kids. But they’d been hard on her too. They’d never given her a chance.

Then Monica’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I started hurting myself. I cut my arms.”

Marco’s stomach turned. He’d known Monica was troubled. Moody. Difficult. But cutting herself? That seemed extreme. Dramatic. The kind of thing kids did for attention.

“You’re exaggerating.” He spoke to the screen. “Making it worse than it was.”

But the video continued. Ria talked about being slapped. About living in fear. About Margaret’s jealousy.

Then Lucas spoke again. The words that made Marco’s entire world tilt.

“He hit me. When I tried to defend my sisters, he hit me hard enough to leave bruises.”

The glass slipped from Marco’s hand, crashing against the desk. Whiskey and melted ice spread across the wood, seeping into papers and soaking his keyboard.

r He didn’t move to clean it up. Couldn’t move. Could only stare at the screen as his fifteen-year-old son told sixty thousand people that his father was an abuser.

“I didn’t abuse you.” Marco’s voice came out hoarse. “I disciplined you. There’s a difference.”

But even as he said it, he could see Lucas’s face that day. The shock. The fear. The way he’d stumbled backward after Marco’s hand connected with his jaw.

It had only been once. One time when Lucas had pushed too far, said too much, disrespected him in a way no father should tolerate.

One time shouldn’t define him. One mistake shouldn’t destroy everything.

The video kept playing. His children talked about drowning in that house. About losing hope. About being saved by Lucia and Alexander,

Every word felt like a knife between his ribs.

Then came the worst part. When all three of them started praising Alexander Kane. Calling him Dad. Talking about how wonderful he was. How he’d saved them. How he showed them what real love looked like.

Marco’s vision blurred red. His hands curled into Successfully unlocked! ling into his palms hard enough to hurt

He looked at the view counter. Two hundred and unity unusanu. Anu Lambing with every second that passed.

Two hundred and thirty thousand people watching his children destroy him.

Chapter 169

He scrolled down to the comments. Thousands of them. Most calling him a monster. An abuser. A failure as a father. Seme calling for him to be investigated. Arrested. Thrown in jail.

A few defended him. Said kids lie. Said he was the victim of parental alienation. But those voices were drowned out by the overwhelming tide of hatred.

His phone buzzed. David Morrison. His lawyer. →

Marco snatched it up. “Tell me you can do something about this. Tell me we can sue them for defamation.”

Morrison’s voice came through tired and resigned. “Marco, we need to talk about realistic expectations here.”

“Realistic expectations? They just destroyed me on the internet! They fred about me to hundreds of thousands of people!

“Did they lie?” Morrison’s question hung in the air like smoke.

Marco’s throat closed. “What?”

“Did they lie, Marco? Because if what they’re saying is true, if even half of it is true, then you don’t have a case. You have a problem.”

“They exaggerated. Made things sound worse than they were. Kids do that when they’re angry.”

“You told me you never laid a hand on Lucas. You told me that abuse allegation was fabricated.”

Marco was quiet. The memory of his palm connecting with Lucas’s face flashed through his mind. The sound of it. The way Lucas’s head had snapped to the side.

“It was one time.” His voice came out barely above a whisper. “He was being disrespectful. I lost my temper for one second.” Morrison sighed heavily. “And there it is.”

“There what is?”

“The truth you should have told me from the beginning. Marco, I can’t help you if you’re not honest with me. And more importantly, I can’t help you fix a mess you created.”

“I created? They’re the ones who made that video!”

“After you went to the media with false claims about being a devastated father whose children were kidnapped. You started this war, Marco. You fired the first shot. They’re just firing back.”

The words hit like physical blows. Marco opened his mouth to argue but nothing came out.

“My advice?” Morrison continued. “Let it die. Don’t respond. Don’t make statements. Don’t call them. Don’t try to defend yourself. Just let it run its course and hope people forget.”

“Forget? How am I supposed to forget that my own children just called me an abuser on live television?”

“The same way you forgot you hit your son, I suppose. With selective memory and self-justification.”

The line went dead. Morrison had hung up on him.

Marco stared at his phone, hands shaking with rage and something else. Something that felt uncomfortably like shame. He pulled up Lucas’s number. His finger hovered over the call button. Part of him knew this was a bad idea. That calling would only make things worse. But he couldn’t help himself.

The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times.

Then Lucas’s voice came through, cautious and quiet. “Dad?”

The word sent a jolt through Marco’s chest. Dad. Not Marco. Not father. Dad.

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“To go on the internet and destroy me. Destroy everything I’ve built. Everything I’ve worked for. How does that feel, son?” “Dad, please.” Lucas’s voice cracked. “It wasn’t about destroying you.”

“Then what was it about? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you just told the world I’m a monster.”

had standards, pushed you to be better. That’s what fathers do.”

“Your mother abandoned you. Or did you conveniently forget that part?”

The words hung in the air between them. Truth spoken too clearly to ignore.

“Maybe.” Lucas’s response came soft. Almost gentle. “But Dad… we still love you. Even after everything. We still love you.” The words should have comforted. Should have brought relief. But instead they made Marco’s rage spike higher. “Don’t.” His voice came out harsh. Cold. “Don’t you dare say you love me after what you just did. After you went on television and destroyed me.”

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