Dear Ex-Husband, Stop Begging Me!

I made my boyfriend Charles. I was the silent force behind his company, now the countrys number one architecture firm.

I had just closed a billion-dollar deal, and I was expecting a proposal on the night of the celebration after seeing a receipt of a diamond ring in his pocket.

I couldnt contain my excitement as the lights dimmed, the spotlight hit the stage, and they called me. Applause thundered. I squeezed Charless hand one last time and walked up the steps.

I stood at the podium, blindingly happy.

"Thank you," I said into the microphone. "This project is built on trust. On integrity. On a vision that..."

Behind me, the massive LED screen flickered to life. It was supposed to show the renderings of the skyline. Instead, a collective gasp ripped through the room.

I turned around. My blood froze.

On the screen, looming twenty feet high, a slideshow of filth began to play. It wasn't just one photo; it was a montage. Me, entering the Ritz elevator with the CEO of Al-Fayed. Me, adjusting my dress while leaving a suite at the Four Seasons with the head of Urban Planning. Timestamps flashed in the corner like a police evidence log, painting a picture of a woman who didn't close deals with her brain, but on her knees.

Then, the audio tore through the speakers, booming off the ballroom walls.

"Ill do whatever it takes to get this signature. My body is part of the package. Just tell me what you want."

It was my voice. But it was spliced, chopped, and rearranged from innocent conversations about architectural models and site visits into a grotesque confession of prostitution.

"What is this?" I whispered, backing away from the screen as the crowd erupted into gasps and jeers. "This isn't real!"

"Nadine?"

Charless voice cut through the chaos like a whip. He was standing at the foot of the stage, the spotlight catching the tears already streaming down his face. He didn't look like my partner. He looked like a man whose soul had just been crushed.

"Is this how you did it?" he shouted, his voice trembling with theatrical devastation. "Is this how you got the contracts? With them?"

"Charles, no," I pleaded, the microphone picking up my trembling voice. "This is fake. You know this is fake!"

"How could you?" Charles shouted, his voice cracking with theatrical grief. He stormed up the stairs, grabbing the microphone from my hand. "I trusted you! I gave you everything! And you... you prostituted yourself for a contract?"

"No!" I screamed, reaching for him. "Charles, stop! You know I didn't"

"Don't touch me!" he recoiled as if I were contagious. He turned to the crowd, his eyes wet with fake tears. "I had no idea. I am horrified. Sterling Architecture does not condone this filth."

He turned back to me, his eyes cold and dead. "Youre fired, Nadine. Get out. Youve humiliated me enough."

"Charles, please," I sobbed, the room spinning. The flashes of cameras were blinding me.

The floor seemed to tilt. The faces in the crowdpeople I had worked with, laughed withwere sneering at me. The betrayal hit me physically, a punch to the gut that sucked the air from my lungs.

Black spots danced in my vision. My knees gave out. The last thing I saw was Charles turning his back on me to apologize to the investors.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital room.

"Ms. Ross? You fainted from extreme stress," the doctor said. "Your blood pressure spiked dangerously high. You need to be careful, Ms. Ross. Its not just you anymore."

I froze. "What?"

"You're pregnant," he said flatly. "About six weeks."

The world stopped. Pregnant.

I instinctively touched my stomach. A baby. Charless baby.

Hope, fragile and desperate, bloomed in my chest. This changed everything. He was angry, yes. He thought I had cheated. But if he knew... if he knew we were having a family, he would listen. He would look at the evidence. He would see it was a setup.

I fumbled for my phone on the bedside table. My hands were shaking so hard I dropped it twice. I dialed Charles.

It rang once. Twice.

"Hello?"

"Elaine?" I asked, confused. Elaine was his executive assistant. "Why do you have Charless phone? Put him on. Its an emergency."

"Oh, Nadine," Elaine purred. "Hes a little busy right now. Hes in the shower.

"What are you talking about?" I snapped, panic rising. "Put him on!"

"He doesn't want to talk to you," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "Youre finished, Nadine. The board is already drafting the press release. Youre the corporate whore who nearly ruined the firm. Goodbye."

The line went dead.

I ripped the IV out of my arm. Blood trickled down my wrist, but I didn't care. I had to get to him. I had to tell him about the baby.

I stumbled out of the hospital, ignoring the nurses calling after me. I hailed a cab, still wearing my ruined emerald gown, and gave the address of the penthouse Charles and I shared.

The door to the master bedroom was ajar.

"God, you were amazing tonight," Charless voice drifted out.

"I told you the video would work," Elaines voice purred. "Did you see her face? She actually thought you were heartbroken."

I froze, my hand hovering over the door handle.

"It was perfect," Charles chuckled, the sound of ice clinking in a glass following. "The board ate it up. Theyre already talking about scrubbing her name from the company history. Sterling Architecture is finally mine, free and clear."

"So," Elaine giggled, "are you going to dump her officially?"

"Not yet," Charles said, his voice dropping to a sinister, predatory low. "Why rush? Shes desperate now. Broken. I bet shell come crawling back, begging for forgiveness. We can still have some fun with her. Besides, shes still the best architect I know. Maybe Ill hire her back as a freelancer... for minimum wage. Keep her under my thumb a little longer while were together."

I reached into my purse and pulled out the velvet box I had found in his sock drawer days ago. The engagement ring. I placed it on the dresser next to his watch.

"You don't have to go."

"Why wouldn't I?" I asked, my voice devoid of emotion. I zipped up the suitcase. "You fired me, Charles. You humiliated me in front of the entire industry. You made it very clear that Im unwanted."

"I was hurt, Nadine!" Charles stepped into the room. He wasn't wearing his tuxedo anymore. He was in his casual cashmere sweater, looking soft, approachable. The perfect actor. "I saw the proof. The photos. The recording. What was I supposed to do? Applaud you for sleeping your way to the top?"

I spun around, fury flaring in my chest. "I didn't do it. You know me. You know I would never"

"Do I?" He cut me off, his eyes narrowing. "Do I really know you? Because the Nadine I knew wouldn't have been in that hotel room."

"It was a setup!" I snapped. "And if you loved me, you would have asked me first. You wouldn't have thrown me to the wolves."

"I do love you," he said, and the lie was so smooth it almost made me sick. He walked closer, reaching out to touch my arm. I flinched. "But I have a reputation to uphold. The firm comes first. You know that better than anyone."

I grabbed the handle of my suitcase. "I'm leaving."

"And go where?" Charles blocked the doorway. He crossed his arms, a smirk playing on his lips. "To your other men? To the clients you 'serviced'?"

"Get out of my way," I warned.

"Be realistic, Nadine," he sighed, his tone shifting to patronizing pity. "You have no money. You have no job. Your name is mud. Whos going to hire you? Youre radioactive."

"I have money," I spat. "I own thirty percent of Sterling Architecture. My shares"

"are frozen," Charles interrupted calmly. "Pending the internal investigation into your... corporate espionage and misconduct. You can't access a dime, Nadine. Youre broke."

My grip on the suitcase tightened. He had thought of everything. He and Elaine had really planned this down to the last detail. They wanted me destitute.

"So," Charles continued, stepping closer, looming over me. "Im offering you a lifeline. Because Im a good man. Because, despite everything, I still care about you. Stay. Live here. In the guest room, of course. And you can still work for the firm."

"You just fired me."

"As a partner, yes," he nodded. "But we still need... grunt work done. Drafting. Revisions. You can work freelance. Off the books. Ill pay you a stipend. Its better than starving on the street, isn't it?"

I stared at him. He wanted to keep me close, to control me, to make sure I didn't fight back.

And he didn't know I was pregnant. He didn't know I had overheard him and Elaine laughing about their victory.

If I left now, I had nothing. No access to the servers. No access to the blueprints. No leverage.

I needed the Al-Fayed plans. I needed the evidence of the zoning fraud he had buried in the sub-files.

I forced my shoulders to slump. I let my eyes fill with tears.

"Fine," I whispered, looking down. "I... I don't have anywhere else to go."

"I knew youd see reason. You should thank me, Nadine. Most men would have kicked you to the curb. Im giving you a second chance."

"Thank you, Charles," I choked out, fighting the urge to vomit. "What do you want me to do?"

"Go to the office," he said, checking his watch. "Elaine has some filing that needs to be done. And the HVAC schematics for the Midtown project need redrawing. Get to it."

Walking back into Sterling Architecture was like walking into a funeral where I was the corpse. The silence was deafening as I crossed the lobby. Receptionists I had hired refused to make eye contact. Junior architects I had mentored whispered behind their hands.

"She actually came back?"

"Have you no shame?"

I kept my head down, clutching my bag. I walked toward the elevator, intending to go to my office on the 40th floor.

"Ah, ah, ah," a voice sang out.

Elaine stepped in front of the elevator bank. She was wearing my favorite shade of lipstick and holding a clipboard.

"You don't have clearance for the executive floor anymore, sweetie," she smirked. "Charles revoked your pass. We moved your things. The executive suite is for... executives. Youre in the archives now. Basement level 2," she pointed downward. "No windows. But plenty of privacy for you to think about what youve done."

She tossed a key card at me. It hit my chest and clattered to the floor.

I turned and took the service elevator down.

The basement smelled of dust and old toner. My "office" was a converted storage closet, piled high with boxes. A single flickering bulb hung from the ceiling. A wobbly desk sat in the corner with an outdated computer.

I locked the door. I pulled a high-speed external drive from my bag. I plugged it into the computer. I bypassed the firewalls I had built myself. I went straight to the Al-Fayed folder. I downloaded everything. The blueprints, the structural analysis, and most importantly, the hidden folder labeled "Zoning_Bribes."

I copied the emails between Charles and the city council. I copied the falsified safety reports. Everything that would ruin him.

Then, I pulled out my phone. It rang three times before a deep, rough voice answered.

"Mateo," I said, leaning against the brick wall, clutching the blueprints to my chest. "Its Nadine Ross. I have the Al-Fayed blueprints," I said, cutting to the chase. "And I have proof of Charless fraud. I can hand you his empire on a silver platter."

"Im listening," Mateos voice dropped an octave. "Whats the price?"

"I need protection. I need resources. And I need a reason for him to never touch me again."

He chuckled. Well, are you proposing marriage to ruin my greatest rival? Cause thatd be wonderful.

My mind drifted back to a library carrel, seven years ago.

Charles had been a nobody then. A handsome face with a sketchbook full of impossible lines and a transcript full of Cs. I was already making waves, the scholarship kid who was redesigning the campus student center before I even graduated.

I started Sterling Architectureback then just "Ross & Sterling"out of our dorm room. I did the math, the engineering, the client pitches. Charles... Charles was the face. He was the charm.

"We're a team, Nadine," he used to say, kissing my forehead as I worked through the night on a deadline he had forgotten. "You build the world, and I'll sell it to them."

Seven years. Seven years of "not yet, babe, let's just get the firm stable first." Seven years of "next year, I promise." Seven years of building his throne while he kept me waiting in the wings.

And Elaine.

I remembered the day I hired her. She was fresh out of business school, eager, sharp. "I just want to learn from the best," she had told me, her eyes wide with admiration. I had mentored her. I had taught her how to manage the books, how to handle difficult clients. I had invited her to dinners.

I had invited the viper into my bed.

The late nights they spent "going over the quarterly reports." The whispered phone calls. The way she started dressing like me, talking like me. It all made sense now. The slow erosion of my authority, the subtle gaslighting. It wasn't just ambition; it was a coup.

A sharp jolt brought me back to the present.

Hot liquid scalded my arm.

"Watch it!" I hissed, jumping up. Coffee dripped from my sleeve onto the concrete floor.

A junior associatesomeone whose name I couldn't even remember, someone I had probably approved for a bonus last Christmasstood there, holding an empty cup. He didn't look apologetic. He looked bored.

"You spilled coffee on me," I said, incredulous.

"You were in the way," he shrugged, stepping around me.

"Excuse me?" I stepped in front of him. "I am still a founder of this firm. You will apologize."

He laughed. A short, sharp bark of amusement. "Founder? You're the office joke, Nadine. You're nothing now. You're lucky Charles even lets you in the building. Why would I care about apologizing to the basement troll?"

My hand twitched. I wanted to slap the smirk off his face.

"Oh, stop it, Brian," a sickly sweet voice chimed in.

Elaine clicked down the hallway in her Louboutinsshoes I knew Charles had bought her on the company card. She placed a hand on the associate's arm, but her eyes were locked on me, gleaming with malice.

"She's still Charles's... well, whatever she is," Elaine smirked. "We should be kind to the charity cases. Are you okay, Nadine? That looks like it burns. Maybe you should go wash up in the janitor's sink."

"Save it, Elaine," I said, my voice low. "I don't need your fake concern."

"Just trying to help," she said innocently. "Oh, by the way, don't leave yet. Charles expects you at the gala dinner tonight at the Pierre. 7 PM sharp."

"I'm not going," I said. "I have nothing to wear, thanks to you."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Elaine waved a hand dismissively. "Just wear something... functional. You won't be sitting at the head table anyway."

She leaned in close, her perfumemy perfumecloying in the stale air. "Or are you finally going to quit? Give up? Prove everyone right that you're weak?"

I held her gaze. "I'll be there."

I shouldn't have gone.

The elite of the architectural world were there, sipping champagne and laughing. I stood near the entrance, wearing a simple black dress I had retrieved from the back of my closet. Charles spotted me instantly. He detached himself from a group of investors and strode over, looking dashing in his tuxedo.

"You made it," he said, not smiling.

"You said there was a surprise," I said, keeping my face blank. "Is this it? Watching you with the people I brought to the firm?"

"Actually," Charles said, gesturing to a waiter passing by with a tray of hors d'oeuvres. "We're short-staffed tonight. The catering company messed up."

He looked at me pointedly.

"You want me to... serve?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"Why not?" Charles shrugged, adjusting his cufflinks. "This is how you repay the firm, Nadine. For the scandal. For the embarrassment. Thankfully, we contained it before it hit the major news outlets, but the rumors... they're damaging. You owe us."

I looked around the room. I saw the faces of people I respected. People who used to respect me. If I made a scene now, I would only prove the "unstable whore" narrative true.

I took the tray from the waiter.

For an hour, I walked through the crowd, offering crab cakes to people who used to beg for five minutes of my time. I kept my head down, praying no one would recognize me. But I heard the whispers.

"Is that Nadine Ross?"

"My god, it is."

"How the mighty have fallen."

My feet ached. My pride was in tatters. But I endured it. I told myself I was gathering intel. I was biding my time.

Then, the music stopped.

Charles walked onto the stage. The spotlight hit him, just like it had the night my life fell apart.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he beamed, raising a glass. "Thank you all for coming. Tonight is a celebration of new beginnings. Sterling Architecture is entering a new era. An era of transparency, strength, and love."

He turned to the side of the stage. "Elaine, come up here."

Elaine walked up, wearing a shimmering silver gown that looked suspiciously like a design I had sketched for my own wedding dress years ago. She looked radiant. Triumphant.

Charles took her hand. He got down on one knee.

The room went silent. The tray in my hands shook violently.

"Elaine," Charles said, his voice amplified by the microphone. "You have been my rock. My true partner. Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" Elaine shrieked, feigning surprise.

The crowd erupted in applause.

I dropped the tray. The crash of crystal and silver on the marble floor cut through the applause. Heads turned.

I ran out of the ballroom, down the grand staircase, and out into the cool night air. I didn't stop running until my lungs burned and I was blocks away.

I hailed a taxi with trembling hands.

"Where to, lady?" the driver asked.

I looked down at my stomach. I thought about the baby. His baby.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't be tied to him. Not anymore.

"St. Jude's Hospital," I said, my voice hollow. "The women's clinic."

"You okay?" the driver asked, eyeing me in the rearview mirror.

"No," I whispered, leaning my head against the cold glass. "I'm up for an abortion."

I stood in the center of the guest room watching the flames lick at the edges of the scarf Charles had bought me for my birthday three years ago. Next went the pearl earrings. Then the signed first edition of The Fountainhead hed given me with a smug grin.

I watched the fire consume the physical remnants of seven years of lies.

"Nadine?"

The door creaked open. Elaine stood there, still in her silver engagement dress.

"Oh my god, what are you doing?" she gasped, looking at the small fire. "Look," she stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. "I... I wanted to say sorry about tonight. The serving thing. That was Charles's idea. I told him it was too much."

I stared at her. The audacity was breathtaking.

"And the proposal?" I asked, my voice deadly calm. "Was that his idea too? Or did you pick out the ring together while I was in the hospital?"

"I didn't mean for him to propose tonight," she sniffled, tears welling up in her eyes on cue. "Maybe if you hadn't... you know... ruined your reputation, things would be different. I'm just trying to pick up the pieces, Nadine."

She reached out to touch my shoulder. "We can still be friends. I know this is hard"

My hand connected with her cheek with a force that vibrated up my arm. Elaine stumbled back, clutching her face. The shock in her eyes was real this time. Then, the waterworks started. She burst into loud, wailing sobs.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

Charles stormed in.

"She hit me!" Elaine screamed, pointing a manicured finger at me. "I came to apologize and she hit me!"

Charles turned to me, his face twisting in disgust. "Are you insane? You're burning the house down and assaulting my fiance?"

"What else did you expect?" I asked, my voice trembling not with fear, but with the effort of holding back a scream. "You humiliated me. You made me serve your guests while you proposed to her."

"Nadine, stop being so dramatic," Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It was just a play. A show for the investors. You know how this industry works. Perception is everything."

"A play?" I laughed, a harsh, jagged sound. "You asked her to marry you."

"Because I need a wife who looks the part!" he snapped. "Not someone who has been branded a whore. Not someone who was seen on a twenty-foot screen soliciting bribes with her body. I can't marry you, Nadine. You're damaged goods."

The words hung in the air, heavy and poisonous.

"But," he continued, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. I forced myself not to recoil. "That doesn't mean I don't want you. You're still the only woman who understands me. You're still the best architect I know."

He smirked. "You can be my mistress. If you want. We can keep it quiet. You get to stay in the penthouse, keep your job... in the shadows. Where you belong now."

I stared at him. I wanted to scream. But it was useless.

"We can share him," Elaine chimed in, her tears miraculously drying up. She walked over and looped her arm through Charles's, resting her head on his shoulder. "I don't mind, really. Like he said, Nadine, you have nowhere else to go. No one else will hire you. We're your family."

I looked at the fire dying down in the trash can. I looked at the man I had loved for seven years and the woman I had mentored.

"Fine," I whispered, looking at the floor. "You're right. I have nowhere else to go."

Charles smiled, patting my cheek. "Good girl. I knew you'd see reason."

"Now," he clapped his hands together. "Since we're all on the same page... Elaine and I want to get married fast. Strike while the iron is hot. Five days."

Our anniversary. The date we had started the company. The date we had met. He was stealing even that.

"Okay," I said, my voice hollow. "I'll help."

"Great," Charles beamed. "You can handle the logistics. The flowers, the seating charts. You're good at the details."

"Sure," I nodded slowly. "I'll give you the best gift I can."

The next five days were a blur of manic activity. I played the part of the repentant, grateful ex perfectly. I ordered the flowerslilies, because Elaine was allergic to roses, though she pretended not to be. I organized the seating chart, placing Charles's most detested aunt right next to him.

But in the quiet moments, I was moving pieces on a different board.

The morning after the "agreement," I slipped out while they were still asleep. I took a cab to the City Clerks office.

Mateo was waiting for me on the steps.

He held up a folder. "Everything is ready. The transfer of assets, the prenup protecting you, and the marriage license."

We walked inside. It took ten minutes. No vows. No rings. just signatures on a piece of paper that bound me to the only man powerful enough to shield me from Charles Sterling.

"Done," the clerk stamped the document.

"Done," Mateo echoed, looking at me with an unreadable expression. "You're Mrs. Vega now. Try not to look so thrilled."

"I'll save the thrill for when Charles realizes he's lost everything," I said.

The day of the wedding arrived. I was up at 5 AM. I packed the last of my things. Then, I left the penthouse at 6 AM.

At 9 AM, my phone started buzzing.

Charles calling.

I let it ring.

Elaine calling.

I ignored it.

By 10 AM, I was sitting in the passenger seat of Mateos black SUV, watching the rain streak the windows. We were heading towards the private airfield.

My phone rang again. Charles.

I picked up.

"Where the hell are you?" Charles roared. I could hear the distinct sound of panic in the backgroundshouting staff, clinking glass. "The ceremony starts in two hours! Where are the rings? You were supposed to bring them!"

"And my dress!" Elaine's voice screeched, close to the receiver. "The seamstress says the alterations are wrong! It's too tight! I can't breathe! Nadine, you bitch, where are you?"

I smiled, watching the raindrops race each other down the glass. "Oh, about that? Sorry. I must have gotten the measurements mixed up."

"Mixed up?" Charles shouted. "You don't make mistakes! Fix this! Get here now! And bring the damn rings!"

"Everything you need is in a box on the shelf in the guest room," I said. "The rings. And my wedding gift for the both of you. Just get it there."

"Nadine, stop playing games. Where are you? Why aren't you here?"

Happy Anniversary, Charles. Enjoy your wedding day.

"Nadine!" Charles yelled. "Where are you

I pressed the red button, blocked him, and I tossed the phone into the cupholder and looked ahead at the open road.