The Ex-Husband's Useless Grovel

"Excuse me… can you take me in?" A tiny girl suddenly blocked my path, her soft voice pulling me to a halt. My heart slammed against my ribs.

Five years ago, my exhusband left me in a raging fire. He abandoned me—his pregnant wife—to save his first love.

I gave birth prematurely, signed the divorce papers, and walked away. I left without even taking my newborn daughter.

And now, five years later, this little girl stood right in front of me.

She clutched a ratty, torn doll to her chest, her eyes wide and cautious. "Daddy is marrying that wicked woman, and she's going to kick me out of the house," she whispered. "Are you my mommy?" Chapter 1 When I divorced Silas, he forbade me from seeing our daughter.

But I had sneaked to Willow's school a few times just to catch a glimpse of her. So, when she showed up outside my apartment building, I recognized her instantly.

I froze, my mind racing as to why she was here all alone. Willow noticed my hesitation.

Her lower lip trembled. "Do you not want me here?" "No." I snapped out of my daze and reached out to her. Her eyes immediately lit up.

She eagerly slipped her small right hand into mine, her left arm still squeezing that ragged doll, and followed me into the elevator.

Once inside, she climbed onto the couch and carefully propped the doll up next to her so it was sitting. It was the doll I had bought for her before I left.

It was worn out now, with clumsy stitches visible along its left leg. But Willow treated it like a treasure, gently patting its little head. My throat closed up.

My fingernails bit into my palms as I forced myself to breathe.

Willow suddenly looked up, her big, round eyes fixed on me. "Did you and Daddy hate each other?" The question caught me off guard. My jaw went slack, no words coming out.

She didn't wait for an answer, her words spilling out. "Daddy never lets anyone talk about you at home. Whenever I ask about you, his jaw clenches and he goes quiet.

Six months ago, he drank too much and threw away the doll you gave me.

The nanny had to dig through the dumpster to find it because I wouldn't stop crying." It sounded like Silas truly despised me now.

But back when we first got married, it wasn't like this. He had been so gentle, so endlessly patient. He couldn't even bear to raise his voice at me.

Even when I waited for him to fall asleep and covered his face in silly doodles with a Sharpie.

He would wake up, look in the mirror, and just laugh. "My wife is a true artist." Once, in a fit of temper, I wrecked his laptop, forcing him to pull consecutive allnighters to rewrite a major business proposal.

He hadn't been angry. He just rubbed his temples and surrendered. "It's my fault. I knew you hated the smell of alcohol, and I still took those drinks for my team.

I swear I won't touch another drop.

Baby, please don't be mad at me anymore, okay?" When I was hospitalized with severe pneumonia, he stayed by my bed day and night, spoonfeeding me soup.

Over those two weeks, I didn't lose a single ounce, but he dropped nearly ten pounds from sheer exhaustion.

If I craved truffle pasta from a specific Michelinstarred restaurant, he would fly the head chef in on his private jet just to cook for me.

When my favorite artisanal chocolate was discontinued, he threw down cash and bought the entire legacy chocolate brand outright.

I loved roses, so he purchased a private island and filled it with toptier, flownin red roses just for my viewing pleasure.

Back then, everyone said Silas loved me to his very core. If I wanted the moon, he would build a ladder to the sky and pluck it down for me.

And I believed in his devotion with every fiber of my being.

So, when my dad, Winston, went bankrupt and was thrown into federal prison—and I discovered Silas was the mastermind pulling the strings—my world shattered. I couldn't breathe.

My knees gave out. I went completely feral. I grabbed everything within reach—vases, books, picture frames—and hurled them at his head. I screamed that he was a backstabbing snake.

He had taken my family's seed money, drained Winston dry, and then locked him in a cage. Silas just stood there.

He looked down at me, his eyes dead. "Your father got exactly what he deserved." Chapter 2 It was only then I learned the truth: twenty years ago, Winston had laid a trap for Silas’s father, coercing him into a bad investment.

The man lost everything and jumped off a building. No wonder Silas’s mother had treated me like a ghost for the past three years. She wouldn't even touch the gifts I brought her.

All the fight drained out of me. Tears spilled hot and fast down my cheeks. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't blame Silas. Winston was the one who drew first blood.

But even if Winston wasn't a good man, he was a good father. Growing up, all I had to do was ask, and he would grant my wishes like a genie.

When I fell for Silas, Winston didn't blink—he dumped millions into Silas’s startup, boosting him up to become a Wall Street titan.

Winston’s health had been deteriorating for the last two years. Federal prison would kill him. I had no choice but to beg.

I grabbed Silas’s hand and pressed it against my swollen belly, sobbing so hard I was choking on air. "Our baby is seven months along. Please, Silas, for the baby… please save him.

Just let him go." Silas didn't flinch. His voice was smooth and utterly hollow. "Stay out of your father's business. Focus on the pregnancy.

I’ll still take good care of you and the baby." How could I stay out of it? How could I sit in a penthouse while Winston rotted in a cell?

Since Silas was a dead end, I hauled my heavy, pregnant body around, tracking down Winston’s old associates. But rats abandon a sinking ship.

Some spit in my face; not a single one offered a lifeline.

I swallowed more mockery in those two weeks than I had in my entire twentyfive years of life. "Celine is carrying Silas’s kid, and he won't even throw her a bone.

Why the hell should we?" Outsiders didn't know the blood debt between our families, so they made up their own stories. "Kind of pathetic, really.

Celine's crawling around begging like a stray dog, while Silas is out partying with his new flavor of the week.

I heard he dropped fifteen million dollars on a flawless pink diamond necklace at Sotheby's last night. Just for Kinsley." "Out with the old, in with the new. I'd pick Kinsley too.

Gorgeous, smart, killer instincts." "Celine? She's just a spoiled airhead. Without Winston's money, Silas was bound to dump her." Kinsley.

The last fight Silas and I had was because he took a drink for her. After swearing off alcohol, seeing him play the hero for a beautiful subordinate had sent my alarm bells ringing.

But he had sworn it was just because Kinsley was deathly allergic to alcohol. He told me not to overthink it. Was it all a lie? How long had they been sleeping together?

That day, Kinsley gave me the answer.

She wore that fifteenmilliondollar pink diamond necklace, her Louboutins clicking sharply against the floor as she marched up to me, chin tilted high in pure arrogance. "Silas and I grew up together.

When we were six, he told his parents he was going to marry me.

Celine, if you weren't Winston's daughter, if Silas didn't need you to destroy your father… did you honestly think he'd ever look twice at a stupid little girl like you?" My chest tightened, a sharp pain radiating through my ribs.

The back of my eyes burned. "I don't believe you," I choked out. "You're lying." A smirk twisted her perfectly painted lips. "If you don't believe me, let's put it to the test." Chapter 3 Inside the art gallery.

Kinsley pulled the fire alarm. Someone screamed, "Fire!" Pure chaos erupted. People sprinted for the exits in a blind panic.

The only person shoving his way against the current of the frantic crowd was Silas. But he didn't come for me. He bypassed me completely, scooping a fainting Kinsley into his arms.

The bottom dropped out of my stomach. My voice cracked. "Silas, are you leaving me and the baby?" His expression was grim. "Kinsley has severe PTSD from fire.

I have to get her out first. Wait right here. I'll be back for you." As he spun around, Kinsley peeked over his shoulder and shot me a triumphant, venomous smirk.

My blood turned to ice. My lungs seized up, starved of oxygen. I clearly smelled the nauseating, custommade perfume Kinsley always wore.

A split second later, a vicious, violent force slammed into my spine. I crashed hard onto the polished floor. A tearing agony ripped through my abdomen.

Hot, thick blood gushed down my thighs, pooling beneath me. I curled into a tight ball, clutching my stomach. My chest went hollow. Silas and I were irrevocably done.

That day, I went into premature labor and delivered a baby girl. Two weeks later, I shoved the divorce papers across the table to Silas.

He frowned, looking at me like I was a toddler throwing a tantrum. "What kind of stunt are you pulling now?

Is this because I got Kinsley out first?" He rubbed his temples, exhaling a harsh breath. "Kinsley was badly burned as a kid. She has a massive scar on her back.

She’s terrified of fire. She literally passed out from the panic." "What is so wrong about me getting her to safety? Celine, the universe doesn't revolve around you.

Could you stop being so damn selfcentered and think of someone else for once?" Even with the papers signed, a sharp ache still flared in my ribs. "What if I had died?" "Impossible," he shot back, his tone thick with irritation. "I told you I'd take care of you and the baby, and I wouldn't let anything happen to you.

You getting pushed was an accident." "I came back for you, didn't I? I got you to the hospital. You and our daughter are perfectly fine.

Why are you beating this to death?" He did come back. But when the alarm rang, his first instinct was Kinsley. I would never, ever be able to scrub that image from my brain.

I swiped a thumb under my dry eyes. "I want a divorce." He slammed his hand on the table. "Enough, Celine.

Drop the act!" I stared at him, genuinely confused. "You don't even love me. Why the hell won't you just sign?" His brows locked together. "Does love even matter?

We have a daughter now.

She needs a stable, twoparent household to grow up in." He looked at me with pure, unfiltered bewilderment. "Your father practically murdered mine, and I didn't even take it out on you." "I kept you in luxury.

You have everything you could ever want. What more could you possibly ask for? Celine, don't be greedy." Greedy. I just wanted a home. I just wanted peace.

If he couldn't give it to me, I wasn't going to beg for it.

I slid a pen across the table, tapping the signature line. "Sign the damn papers." Chapter 4 Silas's jaw locked tight. "Fine. You want a divorce? It's yours.

But Willow stays with me, and you will never see her again." Panic spiked in my chest. "No! She's just a baby.

She needs her mother." He scoffed. "She needs her father's protection." I dug my nails into my palms. "You'll remarry. You'll have other kids.

Why are you doing this?" His gaze was unflinching. "I'm never getting married again. Willow will be my only child." But the fear gnawed at my insides. What if he broke his word?

What if the new wife treated my daughter like garbage? But Silas owned half the city. I didn't have the money or the power to win a custody battle against him.

So, we hit a dead end, locked in a bitter stalemate. Until a month later, when the call came from the federal prison. Winston was dead. Massive heart attack.

Guilt and grief tore through me like jagged glass. If I had just been stronger—if I had found a way to bail him out—he could have seen a real doctor.

He wouldn't have died on a cold concrete floor. I couldn't even look at Silas anymore. Every time I saw his face, my throat closed up.

My lungs burned like I was drowning in ice water, gasping for air that wasn't there. So I signed the papers.

But I forced an ironclad clause into our divorce settlement: Silas was forbidden from remarrying or having other children. Willow would be his sole heir.

If he breached the contract, full custody of Willow defaulted entirely to me. Flash forward five years.

Willow sat on my couch, her tiny shoulders slumped. "I heard Grandma on the phone," she mumbled. "She doesn't like me.

She told Daddy he needs to marry Kinsley so they can give her a real grandson." "She said only boys are allowed to inherit the family money.

The kids at school told me that when you get a stepmom, your real dad stops loving you." "When Kinsley has her own baby, Daddy is going to hate me." Her voice cracked.

Big, heavy tears spilled down her cheeks. A vicious ache gripped my chest. I pulled her onto my lap, wrapping my arms tightly around her trembling frame. "Hey, look at me.

Mommy's here. I've got you." She buried her face in my shoulder, sniffing hard. "Mommy?

Can I stay and live with you?" I smoothed her hair down. "Of course you can, baby." A wobbly smile broke through her tears.

She rubbed her soft cheek against mine. "I love you, Mommy." I wiped her face with a tissue and ordered her favorite pizza for dinner.

Afterwards, I took her down to the apartment complex's playground, pushing her on the swings and watching her go down the slide. By the time we got back upstairs, she was exhausted.

She fell asleep the second her head hit the pillow. I pressed a kiss to her forehead. I pulled the blanket up, stepped out of the bedroom, and clicked the door shut.

Then, I pulled up the contact I hadn't touched in five years and hit dial. "Silas. Willow is with me. We need to talk." Silas didn't answer.

Instead, Kinsley's panicked voice exploded through the speaker. "Celine? Why the hell is Willow with you?

Kidnapping is a federal offense!" I rolled my eyes, my voice dripping with ice. "Willow is my biological daughter. Back off, Kinsley.

This is none of your business." Her voice hit a hysterical pitch. "You abandoned her five years ago!

Don't try playing the devoted mother now!" "Enough." Silas's dark, heavy voice abruptly cut through the line. "Kinsley, go home.

I'm going to pick up my daughter." Silas arrived in record time. He didn't even bother with a greeting.

He just stared me down. "Give me my daughter." I crossed my arms, holding my ground. "She's not going back with you." His brow twitched. "Excuse me?" "You decided to marry Kinsley.

That triggers the clause in our settlement from five years ago.

Full custody of Willow defaults to me." Chapter 5 "Who the hell told you I was marrying Kinsley?" "Willow heard it straight from your mother's mouth.

Are you calling your own daughter a liar?" "You're listening to her babble—" He stopped short. A dark, calculated smirk suddenly hooked the corner of his mouth. "Actually, yes.

That is the plan." "I'm a lonely man. I want some company. Got a problem with that?" I glared at him, my voice dripping with ice. "Not at all.

You can sleep with ten different women for all I care. Just hand over my daughter." He crossed his arms, playing dirty. "No.

She's mine." My blood boiled. "Are you breaching our contract?" He leaned casually against the doorframe. "So what if I am?

Sue me." Silas’s conglomerate kept a hundred of the nation's most ruthless, toptier lawyers on retainer.

If I dragged him into a courtroom, a nobody with zero background like me wouldn't stand a chance.

I gritted my teeth, fury burning in my chest. "Silas, do you have zero shame?" He gave a nonchalant shrug. "Zero.

What are you going to do about it?" He shoved past me, scooped up a sleeping Willow, and strode right out the door. A few days passed. My stomach tied itself in knots over Willow.

I couldn't take it anymore, so I snuck over to Silas's estate. Out in the manicured gardens, Willow sat on the lawn, clutching her rag doll.

Her chin was tucked to her chest, her little mouth pulled into a deep pout. She looked miserable.

Kinsley crouched next to her, holding a plate of pastries, trying to coax her into taking a bite.

But no matter how much Kinsley sweettalked her, Willow just played with her doll, icing her out. The mask slipped.

Kinsley’s face darkened, raw impatience and pure venom flashing in her pale eyes.

The moment a nanny walked past, Kinsley snapped back into character, forcing a sickeningly sweet smile. My stomach plummeted. Kinsley clearly despised my daughter.

She was only playing nice for the cameras now. If she actually married Silas, locked down the estate, and popped out her own kid… God only knew what she would do to Willow.

I couldn't let my baby get hurt.

I tracked Silas down again, planting my feet in his office. "Give me back my daughter." He didn't even look up from his paperwork. "Did I stutter last time? She stays with me.

Drop it, Celine." My nails bit into my palms. "Kinsley hates her.

If you marry that woman, she's going to abuse my little girl!" He scoffed, completely dismissing me. "You're being hysterical.

Kinsley adores Willow." "When Willow was hospitalized with a fever last year, Kinsley didn't leave her bedside for three days.

Stop projecting your own toxic paranoia onto her." I cursed myself for not recording Kinsley's psycho maskslip in the garden. But then again, they grew up together.

He trusted her blindly. Even if I shoved a 4K video in his face, he would just invent some pathetic excuse for her. Their twisted relationship wasn't my problem anyway.

I only cared about one thing. "What is your price?

What do I have to do to get full custody of Willow?" Silas rested his chin on his hand, a predatory glint in his dark eyes. "You want to live with Willow?

There is one way." I narrowed my eyes. "What way?" The corner of his mouth curved up. "Marry me again