Chased by my Ex Husband

Grace

When I wake up the next morning, Tristin is already gone. There is no trace of him left in my apartment, other than his lingering cologne.

For some reason, it makes me sad. He could have stayed to say goodbye, or at least left a note but there is nothing.

I sulk in the shower, in the kitchen as I prepare my coffee, and in the lounge as I flip through different channels.

It's the weekend and I don't have anything to do. Maybe, I should call Celine and see what she is doing today.

I ponder over it for a while before I pick up my phone and open the messaging app. But, my fingers freeze on my screen when I see a new message from an unknown number. -You look beautiful when you sleep, Little Butterfly.

An unconscious smile touches my lips. An image is attached under the message.

As the picture loads, my eyes narrow into slits. Asshole! I huff.

It's me, in bed, pouting, and my hair all over the place. Does this look beautiful to Tristin?

As my fingers move across the keyboard typing an instinctive message, another message from him makes me stop.

I took a photo and will keep it with me until we meet again. Don't curse me. I need to see you up close all the time.

My shoulders relax. What man says such cheesy things? My cheeks warm as I exit his chat and text Celine.

-Are you up?

She usually replies right away, but even after waiting for five minutes, I receive no response from her side. I don't think much of it and continue to scroll through the articles. Tristin's PR team took down the news, but as Tristin said, people are already talking about it.

His company has given its public statement, and they have claimed that the video is fake and an attempt to tarnish the reputation of Roberto family. There is some backlash but because no one has the original copy, it can not be proved that the video is not fake.

I can see that the PR team is actively tackling the backlash too, but I know it will take some time for this scandal to die.This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

Or maybe, all they need is a bigger scandal and it will all be forgotten by people instantly.

As for the executives of RB, that's another case. They will use this scandal to push Tristin to his limits and blame him for the stock price drops.

Worry gnaws at my guts. I trust Tristin to deal with this problem but after seeing how he was last night...

I don't want people to bother him too much.

I open his chat again and type a simple message.

-You can keep it.

There is no reply, but he has seen it. It brings a soft smile to my lips before I return to mindlessly flip through TV channels. It's all in French and I don't understand much, but the noise makes me feel less lonely. When I get tired, I decide to clean my apartment but stop after I receive a call from an unknown number. Without thinking much, I pick it up. "Hello?"

Silence meets me on the other side. Instinctively, goosebumps rise on my arms and I make a move to disconnect but the voice that sounds from the speaker makes me pause. "Grace. "

My fingers freeze, just as my heart drops in the pit of my stomach. " Mom. "

"Don't hang up. Listen to me." She cries out desperately.

I frown, wondering how she knew I was about to hang up on her.

"How did you get this number?" My frown deepens.

"Grace, your father is sick." She sobs on the other side.

I look at the center table, at my empty mug, and my grip tightens over my phone. "What does that have to do with me? Dad disowned me? Don't you remember?"

She sniffles, going silent for a few seconds. I decide to hang up again, but something stops me.

"You still call me Mom." She whispers quietly." and you still call him your Dad. We are your parents, Grace. That's a bond you can never disown."

"But you did. "A lump forms in my throat. " or maybe, you never considered me your daughter."

'That's not true! You have always been our daughter. Just like Lily is." Her cries grow louder at the name of her favorite daughter. " and now she is missing. We don't want to lose you too, Grace. Your Dad can not die in peace without seeing either of you."

I scoff. " don't use this emotional tactic on me. I no longer fall victim to it, Mrs. Whitlock. What do you really want? Come to the point. "

Her sniffles instantly stop and the act ends. A moment of silence, and then her curt voice sounds from the speaker.

"We were destroyed because of you! Now, we are in debt and running from people that are after us. Your Dad and I are close to your apartment right now. Come meet us here and give us some money. "What?" My breath catches in my throat.

"We raised you, fed you, gave you everything you ever wanted! Do you think everyone can afford the lifestyle you did? Do you think it was cheap?!" She hisses, her voice becoming harsher.

"So... it's about payback. You want me to pay you back the money you spent in raising me. "I like to think that my nerves have become steel now, but...it still hurts somewhere deep down in my chest.

"You have never contributed anything to our family, Grace. It's only right that you help us out now." She states as a matter of fact.

"Well...just so you know...I don't have that kind of money to pay your debts. "I shrug." Whitlock Corp went bankrupt and the price of my stocks plummeted. I didn't get much by selling them." She goes silent again. The wheels must be turning in her head.

"How did you get my number and how do you know where I live?" I ask again.

"We lost the company but not the connections. It's not hard to find you when you are going around showing your talent at your University." She sneers hatefully.

Something tells me that she is lying, but I don't need to dwell on it. I have no reason to get involved with them again.

"If that's all-"

"Just give us something to survive here. Your Dad's assets are frozen and we can not access any of his hidden money right now. Come to Atlanta Cafe and give us money to

spend for a few days." She orders.

"Mrs. Whitlock-"

Come meet us in an hour if you don't want me to make a scene at the place where you study. You don't

〃

want your friends to know that you are a cold-hearted bitch, do you? She yells and hangs up before I can reply.

Anger burns in my veins, and I stay still for a lot of time. But when the hour is close to end, I drag myself to the Cafe without a word.

We need to talk. Face to face.

I need to get them off my back before they make a scene.

That choice...proves to be my worst decision.