Rise of the Formidable Ex-wife (Lucia and Alex) novel Chapter 40

Ria drove home in silence. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. Every turn of the car felt heavy, deliberate, controlled, like the car itself carried the weight of her thoughts. Her mother’s words echoed in her mind. Property transfers. Hidden assets. Pre–planned divorce. Margaret selecting furniture while Lucia was still married. While she still thought everything was fine.

Was it true? Had Dad really done that? Had he really plotted everything while pretending to care? Or had Mom twisted the truth to justify leaving, to protect herself, to make herself look better?

Ria did not know. Could not know. Did not want to know. And yet, she had to confront it. She had to find the truth.

Pulling into the driveway, she sat in the car for a moment. Just breathing. Listening to the quiet hum of the neighborhood. Inside, the house smelled like dinner. Normal. Domestic. Safe.

She entered, heading straight for Marco’s office. He sat behind the dark mahogany desk, a glass of whiskey half empty at his side. His posture was slouched. Eyes tired. Defeated.

“Dad,” she said, standing in the doorway. Her voice was even but tense. “We need to talk.”

Marco looked up slowly. “About what?”

“I saw Mom today. At the department store. She said things. Things I need to ask you about.” His face stiffened. “What things?”

“She said you transferred properties. Hid assets. Planned everything months before the anniversary party. That you were already gone while pretending everything was fine. Did you do that?”

Marco set the glass down and rubbed his face, taking a long moment before speaking. “Where is this coming from?”

“From Mom. She says you erased her financially while pretending to care. That you were planning the divorce long before we knew. Did you do that?”

The room filled with silence. Heavy, uncomfortable, damning.

“Answer me,” Ria demanded, her voice shaking slightly. “Did you plan the divorce before the party? Did you transfer assets? Hide things from her?”

Marco stood, walking slowly to the window. He looked out at nothing, letting the question hang. “It is complicated.”

“That is not an answer.”

“I made contingency plans. Yes. For a marriage that was failing. That was never working. That is not the same as plotting to leave. I needed to protect myself, to protect the family. To ensure everything would survive if the marriage ended.”

“But you were still with her. Still married. Still pretending everything was fine while hiding things behind her

back.”

“I was practical. The marriage had been dying for years. I needed to make sure we would survive financially. That the company would not collapse. That nothing would fall apart if the worst happened.”

“So you did hide things from her.”

“I protected assets. That is different.”

“Is it?”

Marco turned slowly to face her, eyes hard. “Your mother is telling her story. Making herself the victim. Painting me as the villain. But the truth is our marriage was broken long before Margaret. Long before the party. Long before anything. I was miserable. We both were. I just acted when I could.”

The words sounded rehearsed. Like he h

Over and over until he believed it.

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Chapter 40

“What about Margaret?” Ria asked, voice smaller now. “Mom said she was picking out furniture before the divorce, while Mom still lived here. Is that true?”

Footsteps sounded behind her. Margaret entered, flawless as ever. Hair perfect, makeup perfect, a smile that did not reach her eyes.

“Is what true?” she asked lightly. Curious, gentle.

“Mom said you were choosing furniture while she was still living here, still thinking everything was fine,” Ria said.

Margaret tilted her head. “Your mother has a very active imagination. A convenient memory. She twists facts, creates stories, makes herself look innocent. In reality, she was cold, controlling, bitter. She made your father miserable. And when he finally found happiness, with me, she could not handle it. So she spins lies to protect herself, to paint me as the enemy, to make herself seem wronged.”

Ria blinked, swallowing. “So… you weren’t picking out furniture?”

Margaret leaned in slightly, voice soft and measured. “I may have discussed ideas with your father about what he might want to do eventually. But I was not moving in. Not replacing your mother. Just supporting a man trapped in a marriage with someone who could not appreciate him. That is the truth.”

Ria felt a flicker of doubt. Her heart raced. It sounded logical. Reasonable. But her instincts whispered that something felt slippery, rehearsed, polished, designed to persuade without answering the real question. Marco stepped closer. “Why are you questioning us? Why would you believe her version over ours after all these years? After everything?”

“I am not believing anyone. I just… I need to understand. She said things that… explained why she left, why she did not fight, why she…”

“Why she what?” Margaret interrupted sharply, voice now commanding. “Why she chose a billionaire over her own children? Why she replaced you with that girl, Lena? If she were truly the victim, why wait six months to reappear? Why not fight? Why not contact you? Why vanish and reappear wealthy and happy, as if nothing happened?”

The questions hit her like punches. Impossible to answer.

“Because,” Ria said slowly, uncertain, “we chose you. Chose Dad. At the party, at the wedding. We made it clear we did not want her. We chose you.”

“Exactly,” Margaret said, her voice turning gentle, persuasive, convincing. “You made a choice based on what you saw. On the truth as you understood it. Your mother was cold, ungrateful. Your father was miserable. I made him happy. You saw that. You acted on that. And now she wants to manipulate you, make you feel guilty, make you doubt yourself with half–truths and twisted memories. Do not let her.”

Ria felt a twist in her chest. Her mother’s calm confidence in that store flashed through her mind. Powerful, composed, untouchable. And the stark contrast of her father and Margaret here, explaining, controlling, managing her emotions. Both sides seemed credible. Both compelling.

Ria looked at her father, at Margaret, at their calm, measured expressions. Then she thought of her mother, standing in that boutique, strong, composed, powerful, with Lena beside her. Everything she had built, everything she had become. The image unsettled her.

Who was lying? Who was telling the truth? Victim and villain, which one was which? She could not tell

anymore.

“I am sorry,” she said finally, voice quiet. “I am sorry for doubting, for questioning, for listening to her. You are right. She left. She chose to go. That is what matters. Not whatever happened before. Not the timing, the details. What matters is that she left. You stayed. And I chose you.”

Marco pulled her close, holding her as if to shield her from the confusion. “Thank you. Thank you for trusting me. I know she can be convincing, twisting facts. But you were there. You saw. You know.”

Did she? Did she really know? Or had she simply chosen the version that justified her actions, her complicity?

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Chapter 40

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