My Ex-Husband Begged Me to Take Him Back

Gianna stormed out of the room, disappointed and upset. Her mind raced with lingering thoughts—no matter how much she tried to get close to him, Dylan kept pushing her away. And that only fueled her determination to win him over.

But when she saw Ava climbing the stairs, her mood shifted instantly. A sly smile crept across her lips, her disappointment vanishing. She appreciated Erica for her quick action.

Gianna contacted Erica last night and asked her to notify Ava that Dylan was not feeling well. She knew this information would prompt Ava to rush over to see him.

Now, the stage was set for Gianna to play her part.

Ava's steps faltered when she saw Gianna emerging from Dylan's bedroom. Her stomach churned in disgust at the sight.

In her past life, she had seen Gianna clinging to Dylan more times than she cared to remember. But she had ignored all the warning signs, foolishly convincing herself that as long as she was his wife, no one could replace her.

But Ava had learned her lesson, and she wasn't about to let them drag her down again.

Gianna's eyes gleamed with malice as she approached Ava, a sarcastic smile plastered on her face.

"Ava! You finally came," she sneered. "As his wife, you should've been the one here, taking care of him when he was unwell. But instead, you were nowhere to be found. It's me who took care of him last night."

She deliberately brushed her fingers down the neckline of her nightdress. "He didn't let me go for a minute," she continued, her voice dripping with smugness. "He kept calling my name, over and over, apologizing for not marrying me. But he promised he'd make it up to me." Leaning over to her slightly, she whispered, "It's time you think about a divorce."

Ava met Gianna's gaze, her eyes cold and unflinching. The venomous words didn't sting her the way they once might have. Instead, she let out a disdainful snort, a bitter smile tugging at her lips.

"A bitch like you is perfect for a scumbag like him. Don't worry—I'll divorce him soon. You can have him."

Ava's response hit like a slap. Gianna's jaw fell apart. She didn't expect such a retaliation. Anger surged within her. "You!" she spat, raising her hand to slap Ava. But before the blow could land, Ava caught her wrist in midair.

Her grip was tight and painful. "Let go of my hand," Gianna hissed, struggling to free herself, her eyes blazing with fury.

But Ava's hold only tightened. She moved in closer to her and said in a warning tone. "Don't provoke me. Or else, I'll break your hands next time."

Gianna was taken aback, her breath catching in her throat. This was not the weak and submissive Ava she once knew. Something had changed in her.

For a moment, Gianna's bravado faltered as she stared into the burning resolve in Ava's eyes. The intensity was enough to make her cower slightly.

Then she heard the bathroom door opening with a click. A flicker of malice shone in her eyes as she knew Dylan had finished his shower.

With a sudden movement, Gianna yanked Ava's hand toward her own face and slapped herself hard. "Ah!" she cried out and fell dramatically to the ground.

Ava stood there, momentarily stunned by the unexpected turn of events. Her eyes widened as she stared down at Gianna, bewildered by the absurdity of her actions. How could someone be so manipulative, so conniving?

Gianna whimpered on the floor, clutching her cheek theatrically as Dylan stepped out of the bathroom. Ava could feel his eyes on them, and she knew exactly what Gianna was trying to do.

Dylan's steps came to an abrupt halt when his eyes landed on Ava. He was somewhat happy to see her, but his face remained impassive. When he looked down at Gianna, his brow creased.

"What is going on here?"

Gianna smiled sneakily. It didn't matter Ava had grown defiant lately. Her manipulation and action skills would be enough to defeat Ava. The next minute, Gianna made a sad look as if she was wronged.

Fake tears gathered in her eyes when she looked up at Dylan.

"Ava misunderstood me, Dylan," she whined. "I told her nothing was going on between you and me, but she wouldn't listen. She just slapped me when she saw me coming out of your room."

Ava stood still, arms crossed, her face a mask of indifference. She wasn't surprised by the theatrics unfolding before her. Gianna had always known how to play the victim, and this moment was no different. Nothing had changed.

Ava's mind raced as she anticipated Dylan's reaction—he had never trusted her, so it was useless to explain. With Gianna's fabricated story, it was certain he'd side with her.

Dylan frowned in disbelief as he looked back at Ava. He had been noticing the sudden change in her behavior. He still could hear the crisp sound of the slap she had delivered to him the day before, so he didn't doubt that Ava slapped Gianna.

"I didn't do anything," Ava retorted before he could scold her even though she knew he wouldn't believe her.

"Really?" he sneered. "Then why is she doing sprawling on the floor?" He bent down and wrapped his arm around Gianna to pull her up on her feet. He checked her cheek and saw the faint red marks on her skin.

"So why the red marks on her cheek?" he asked. "Can you explain it?"

Ava let out a small, mirthless laugh. She had no time for this. "What is the point of explaining? You won't trust me anyway."

Gianna, however, continued her pitiful act, tears glistening as she sniffled. "I just wanted to explain things to her, to let her know that nothing happened between us. But she hit me."

"Ava, this is too much," he growled coldly. "Apologize to her, now."

"Huh?" Ava scoffed scornfully. She had expected this. "You want me to apologize to your mistress!"

"Ava!" He gritted his teeth.

"Alright." In a flash, Ava swung her hand and slapped Gianna hard.