Sorry, Ex-Husband, There would be no Ninth Marriage

My husband Brandon married me eight times, and divorced me eight times for the woman he truly loved, but there wouldn't be a ninth time today.

Lets divorce. Your first love is here.

I placed the divorce papers on the mahogany desk, right over his keyboard.

Brandon didnt even blink. He just picked up his pen, signed his name with a lazy flick of his wrist, and tossed the document back to me.

Well get married again once she leaves after a month, he said, his eyes already back on his screen. For now, just go on a vacay. Buy yourself something nice.

It was always like this. Paula was a free spirit who despised the idea of marriage and being tied down. She preferred to travel the world, living completely carefree. But whenever she grew bored or lonely, she would return to the city, and Brandon would immediately clear his life for herwhich meant divorcing me.

Then, once her wanderlust kicked in and she abandoned him again, he would summon me back to resume my role as his convenient, legally-bound placeholder.

I didnt say a word.

I just turned around, walked into our master bedroom, and pulled my suitcase from the closet. I started packing my clothes.

Usually, this was the part where I cried. The part where I begged him to look at me, to choose me, to explain why I was never enough.

Today, the room was dead silent.

Heavy footsteps suddenly stormed into the room. Before I could fold my last shirt, Brandon grabbed my arm and yanked me around to face him.

What the hell was that? he demanded, his jaw clenched tight. Arent you gonna say a word to me? Arent you jealous? Paula is here.

I gently pulled my arm out of his grip and turned back to my suitcase. Well, yeah.

Brandon stared at me like I had lost my mind.

What is wrong with you? he barked, stepping into my space. Are you cheating on me? Is that why you dont care?

My hands paused on the zipper. I let out a short, dry laugh and looked him dead in the eye.

Cheating? I repeated. Brandon, its not like you love me.

He flinched, but I didn't stop.

From the very beginning, it has always been business with us. We aren't husband and wife. We just have contracts and deals.

It was the ugly truth. I had agreed to his terms years ago because I needed money to support my mothers medical life in the hospital. I hadn't actually thought I'd fall for him, but I did, only to be disregarded ever since. But after everything, I finally knew I would never love him again.

Brandons face darkened. His possessive anger flared.

If you dare betray me and have another man, he warned, his voice dropping into a lethal, cold whisper. I swear, your mother will die.

I looked at his handsome, furious face.

Okay, I said softly.

He didn't know. He had been so busy preparing for Paula's arrival that he hadn't even noticed my swollen eyes. He didn't know the hospital had called me three days ago.

My mother was already dead.

I snapped my suitcase shut, cutting off the conversation. Im leaving now. Im just gonna stay with my friend.

Don't get any ideas about ambushing us at the company, he warned, his lip curling in disgust. I won't tolerate you throwing another hysterical fit in front of my staff just to get my attention.

I knew exactly what he was referring to. Paula was only in town for a short while, and Brandon intended to parade her around the executive floor as his rightful partner.

The memory of our third divorce flashed in my mind. Back then, I had been foolish enough to think I could fight for my marriage. I had rushed to his office to deliver a crucial document he had left at home, only to find Paula sitting in his CEO chair, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. When I lost my temper and demanded she get away from my husband, Paula had squeezed out a few fake tears.

To protect his precious first love from the judgmental whispers of the senior executives gathering outside the glass walls, Brandon hadn't just told me to leave. He had called security.

As two guards grabbed my arms to drag me out, Brandon had coldly tossed our freshly stamped divorce decree onto the floor at my feet.

She isn't my wife, he had announced loudly to the entire floor, ensuring everyone heard him over my sobs. Shes just an ex who doesn't know when to quit.

Since that day, his PR team made it a point to leak our divorce status to the social pages every single time Paula returned. They painted Paula as his innocent, destined muse, and me as the delusional, clinging woman who was obsessed with his wealth.

But this time, his threats meant nothing.

You don't have to worry, I said, walking past him without a second glance. I have zero interest in interrupting your time with Paula. You two deserve each other.

He frowned, his eyes narrowing as he tried to read my face. He was clearly unsettled by my lack of tears, but his massive ego quickly covered it up.

Just make sure you're back by the second week of next month, he ordered. We have a wedding to schedule.

I didn't turn around, but a quiet, genuine smile broke across my face.

Okay, I whispered to the empty air.

Because the second week of next month was exactly when my one-way flight was scheduled to take off. And Brandon would never find me again.

In the past, during our first few divorces, I was pathetic. I used to follow Brandon and Paula around the city like a masochist. I would sit in my parked car outside expensive restaurants, watching through the glass as he showered her with the kind of tender love and affection he never gave me.

He would buy her entire boutiques, kiss her forehead, and look at her like she hung the stars. It broke my heart into a million pieces, but I swallowed the pain.

I was willing to stay, willing to endure the humiliation, just for the scraps of his attention.

But everything changed a few months ago, on his birthday.

I had just found out I was pregnant. Overjoyed and terrified, I bought a custom cake and went to his private club to surprise him with the news. I thought a baby might finally make us a real family.

Instead, I got the surprise of my life.

I was standing outside the VIP room, my hand hovering over the doorknob, when I heard him talking to his best friend.

"I don't care about Victoria," Brandons voice drifted through the crack in the door, cold and annoyed. "Shes just a placeholder. Honestly, by our ninth marriage, I'm going to dispose of her and cut off her mother's medical funds for good. Paula told me shes finally getting tired of traveling. She wants to settle down soon, and when she does, I'm going to propose to her."

The cake slipped from my hands, ruining the icing on the carpet. I ran out of the club and stumbled into a cheap bar, drinking until I couldn't feel the ground beneath my feet.

I cried until my eyes were swollen shut.

But the nightmare was just beginning. On my way home, walking through a dark street, a group of thugs dragged me into a filthy alley. I was terrified.

As they tore at my clothes and hit me, I managed to dial Brandons number, praying he would come save me.

The phone rang and rang, until he finally rejected the call.

Later, I found out he was busy picking Paula up from the airport because she had decided to make a surprise visit.

I was beaten, robbed, and left in the dirt. I had to drag my own bleeding body to the hospital. I lost my baby that night on a cold linoleum floor, all alone.

So right now? I didn't care anymore. The woman who loved Brandon died in that hospital.

After dropping my suitcase at my friends apartment tonight, I decided to go to a high-end lounge downtown. Not to drown my sorrows, but to finally celebrate being untied from him.

I ordered a strong cocktail and drank, letting the burn soothe my throat.

"Celebrating something?" a deep, smooth voice asked.

I turned to see a strikingly handsome man sitting on the stool next to me. I didn't know it yet, but this was Vaughnthe ruthless CEO of the rival corporation that had been giving Brandon hell in the business world for the past year.

"My freedom," I replied, clinking my glass against his.

We talked and drank, the conversation flowing easily. For the first time in years, I felt like a normal woman.

I was so engrossed in the conversation that I didn't even realize Brandon and Paula had walked into the lounge.

"Victoria? Hi!" a sickeningly sweet voice chirped.

I turned around. Paula was standing there, clinging to Brandon's arm.

Brandon looked at me, his brows furrowed in deep displeasure, clearly shocked to see me out drinking instead of crying at home like I usually did.

"I'm so sorry," Paula continued, offering a fake, apologetic smile that didn't reach her eyes. "But I actually just paid for this entire bar to be closed off so Brandon and I can celebrate my return privately. Would you mind going out?"

Brandon crossed his arms, his posture arrogant.

He was waiting for my usual meltdown. He expected me to throw a drink, to scream, to beg him not to kick me out.

I just set my glass down and grabbed my purse. "Sure."

Brandon's arrogant expression faltered. He looked completely stunned, his arms dropping to his sides as he stared at my calm face.

Before the silence could stretch, the man next to me stood up, adjusting his expensive suit jacket. He looked down at me with a charming smile, completely ignoring Brandon and Paula.

"Well, what about coming with me, lady?" Vaughn asked, offering me his hand. "We can continue celebrating your freedom somewhere much better."

I smiled up at him. "Sure."

I took Vaughn's hand and we walked right past them, leaving Brandon frozen in place.

We stepped out into the cool night air and walked toward Vaughn's sleek black sports car.

I was just about to reach for the passenger door handle when heavy, furious footsteps approached from behind.

A strong hand clamped down on my wrist, yanking me back so hard I crashed into a solid chest.

Brandon pulled me close, his fingers digging into my skin.

His eyes were blazing with a dark, terrifying possessiveness as he glared at Vaughn over my head.

"No," Brandon snarled, his voice vibrating with rage. "You're mine. You're not coming with him."

I let out a loud, genuine laugh, staring at the hand gripping my wrist. I shook my head, looking up at his furious face.

Im not yours, I said, pulling my arm. His grip was like iron. In fact, I dont even know you.

Brandons expression darkened. Before he could snap, Vaughn stepped between us, effortlessly breaking Brandons hold.

Yeah, shes my date tonight, Vaughn said, his tone light but his gaze sharp. He placed a hand on the small of my back. Do you have a problem with that, Brandon?

Brandons hands curled into fists. He opened his mouth, fully prepared to cause a massive scene right there on the pavement.

But then, a piercing scream echoed from inside the lounge.

Brandon! Paula shrieked.

Brandon froze. The possessive rage in his eyes vanished, instantly replaced by panic. Without throwing a single backward glance in my direction, he turned and sprinted back inside to his precious first love.

I stood on the sidewalk and laughed. It was a hollow sound, but it felt incredibly freeing. He couldn't even pretend to care about me for a full minute.

Well, Vaughn murmured, opening the passenger door of his sports car. Shall we?

I slid into the plush leather seat. As Vaughn drove us away, the city blurred past the windows.

Hmm, interesting, Vaughn said, breaking the silence. He tapped the steering wheel, glancing at me with a playful smirk. I know of him, obviously, but I dont know who his girl is. Are you really not his girl?

I leaned my head against the cool window. Im no ones.

Vaughn chuckled, a deep, rich sound. Is that so? Maybe you should be my girl, then.

I just laughed it off, closing my eyes and letting the exhaustion wash over me.

The next morning, I was dead asleep on the sofa bed in the apartment when violent banging jolted me awake. The doorbell rang incessantly.

I dragged myself up and peeked through the peephole. Standing in the hallway were two massive men in tailored black suitsBrandons security detail.

I cracked the door open, leaving the chain on. What do you want?

Ma'am, the lead guard said stiffly. Mr. Sterling demands that you come back to the estate immediately.

I rolled my eyes. If he wants me, he has to come and take me himself.

I slammed the door in their faces and locked the deadbolt.

Less than twenty minutes later, the banging returned. This time, it was louder, accompanied by a voice I knew all too well.

Victoria! Open this damn door! Brandon roared.

I sighed, undoing the chain and pulling the door open. Brandon stood there, his chest heaving with barely contained rage.

Get your things, he demanded, stepping into the doorway. Youre coming home right now.

I crossed my arms, leaning casually against the doorframe. No, I will not. We are divorced, Brandon. We are not married anymore.

I dont care about a piece of paper! he snapped.

Why are you throwing a tantrum? I asked, offering him a mocking smile. Is it because you love me? Or is it because youre just jealous that I can finally replace you?

Brandons eyes flashed. He stepped into my space, backing me up against the entryway wall. A dark, arrogant grin spread across his face.

No, he whispered, his voice dripping with toxic confidence. You can never replace me. Youre mine.

He grabbed my wrist. And youre coming home.

If you dont come willingly, he added, his voice dropping into a lethal threat, I will force you. And I will make sure your mothers hospital funding is cut today. She will die, Victoria.

I stared at him. He was using a dead woman to blackmail me. He didnt even bother checking if she was still alive?

I wanted to scream, to spit in his face. But fighting him now would only complicate my escape.

I let out a heavy sigh, dropping my shoulders. Fine.

I grabbed my suitcase and followed him to his car. The ride back to the sprawling Sterling estate was silent.

When we finally walked through the grand double doors, Brandon turned to me, his authority restored.

Youre going to stay here until we get married again, he ordered.

I looked around the empty foyer. What about you? Are you going back to Paula?

Yes, he admitted without an ounce of shame. But I will surely come back for you. Ill buy you everything to make up for this little rebellion. What do you want?

I looked him dead in the eye. I want an island.

Brandon paused, surprised, but then a smug smile touched his lips. He thought he had bought my obedience once again.

Okay, he agreed smoothly. I'll buy you an island. As long as you stay right here.

I nodded obediently. I will.

I watched him walk out the door to return to the woman he truly loved. I stood alone in the massive foyer, pretending I was going to wait for him.

But as the heavy oak doors clicked shut, I smiled.

A few more days, bye Brandon.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I picked it up, the screen illuminating the dark bedroom.

Flight confirmed. Your new apartment in Paris is fully furnished and paid for the first year. Everything is ready, Kristens text read.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Freedom was finally tangible. Just three more days.

Before I could lock the screen, another message popped up. It was from an unsaved number, but I knew exactly who it was.

What about the deal? Have you thought about it? Vaughn asked.

I stared at the glowing words. Last night in the car, Vaughn had made me an offer. He knew I wanted to disappear, and he had the resources to make me completely untraceable. In exchange, he wanted the internal financial documents I had memorized during my years playing the dutiful CEO's wife.

I was still weighing my options when the bedroom door suddenly flew open, slamming against the wall.

Before I could even sit up, a hand cracked across my cheek. The slap was sharp, the sting immediate.

You bitch! Paula screamed, her perfectly manicured face twisted in ugly rage. What did you do to Brandon? Why did he change his mind?

I slowly turned my head back to face her, tasting copper on my lip. I didn't flinch. I just looked at her, my expression completely blank.

I have no idea what youre talking about, I said, my voice eerily calm.

Don't lie to me! Paula shrieked, stepping closer. He was supposed to propose to me tonight! The ring was ready, the press was waiting! But he canceled everything and said he needed to finalize his remarriage to you first! What kind of spell did you put on him?

I let out a dark, humorless laugh. So Brandon had actually delayed his precious proposal just to keep me trapped.

I stood up from the bed, towering over her slightly. Maybe he finally realized youre just a tourist in his life, Paula. You leave whenever you get bored, and you only come back when you need his money. Maybe he actually loves me now because I was the one who stayed.

It was a lie, of course, but I wanted to see her bleed.

Paulas eyes widened in fury. She raised her hand to strike me again. You delusional

What the hell is going on here?

The deep, furious voice came from the doorway. Paula froze, her hand suspended in the air.

Brandon stood there, his eyes sweeping over the room.

The second Paula saw him, her entire demeanor shifted. The vicious, screaming woman vanished.

Brandon! she cried, running to him and burying her face in his chest. Shes crazy! I just came to ask her why she was doing this to us, and she started saying horrible things! She said you never loved me!

I stood there, the metallic taste of blood still on my tongue, the red mark burning into my cheek. I waited for Brandon to look at me. I waited for him to see the cut on my lip, to see that Paula was the one who had hit me.

But he didn't.

Brandon wrapped his arms tightly around Paula, kissing the top of her head. Then, he looked at me. His eyes were completely devoid of the possessive fire from this morning. There was only cold, hard disgust.

Are you out of your mind, Victoria? he spat, his voice laced with venom. I brought you back here to keep you out of trouble, not to terrorize the woman I actually love.

My chest tightened. Even though my heart was already dead, his words still managed to twist the knife.

She hit me, Brandon, I said quietly, pointing to my bleeding lip.

He didn't even blink. Don't play the victim. You provoked her. Let me make this perfectly clear to you so you stop living in a fantasy: I only delayed the proposal because the PR optics of a sudden divorce look bad for the company right now. I need you to play the good wife for the shareholders for a few more months.

He sneered, his grip tightening protectively around Paula.

Don't flatter yourself into thinking I want you, he added cruelly. You are nothing but a convenient shield until Paula and I are ready.

He turned around, guiding a sobbing Paula out of the room, leaving me completely alone in the cold, silent bedroom.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty doorway. The last pathetic, lingering shred of hope I didn't even know I was holding onto finally turned to ash.

I walked calmly back to the nightstand and picked up my phone. I opened the message from the unsaved number.

My fingers didn't tremble at all as I typed my reply to Vaughn.

I'll take the deal. Get me the hell out of Brandons life.

The brush glided smoothly across the canvas. I mixed a deep, bruised shade of purple, completely lost in the quiet of my room.

I was just counting the days. Vaughn was moving fast, pulling strings in the shadows to finalize everything for our sudden wedding and my complete extraction from the country.

The heavy oak door suddenly banged open.

Brandon stormed in, his tie loosened, a crumpled piece of paper crushed in his fist.

Why the hell did you resign from your post? he demanded, his voice echoing off the walls. Youre supposed to be my head secretary! I just learned you havent been working for days!

I didn't even flinch. I carefully dipped my brush into the water glass. You locked me in this house, Brandon. Have you forgotten?

Stop making excuses! he snapped, crossing the room in three long strides. The clients are a massive mess because you didnt do what you had to do!

Before I could answer, he lashed out. His hand caught the edge of my easel, violently shoving it. The wet canvas crashed onto the hardwood floor.

He stepped right on it, his expensive leather shoe smearing hours of my work into an ugly, ruined streak of paint.

I stared at the ruined canvas, my chest tight.

I told you, Brandon growled, leaning down so his face was inches from mine. You are mine. So go to the office right now and arrange everything. Including the charity ball on the 17th of next week.

The 17th. The night before my scheduled flight. The night before I was supposed to marry Vaughn.

I looked up at his furious, entitled face. Fighting him would only draw attention to my escape.

I let out a long, exhausted sigh. Fine.

An hour later, I walked onto the executive floor of Sterling Corporation. The whispers started the second the elevator doors opened.

Shes still here? I thought she was finally gone.

She just won't let him go. Its pathetic.

She always played favorites anyway, sleeping her way to the top.

I ignored the venomous stares and walked straight to my desk. I spent the next few hours ruthlessly fixing the scheduling disasters and smoothing over angry clients.

Around noon, the glass doors swung open. Paula strolled into the department, carrying a tray of expensive coffees.

Oh, Victoria! Paula called out loudly, making sure the entire floor was watching. She walked over to my desk, a sickly sweet smile on her face. Youre still working? Brandon is just too kind, letting his ex-wife keep a job out of pity. Just make sure you don't mess up the charity ball, okay? It's very important to us.

She left a coffee on my desk with a condescending pat on my shoulder. The entire office snickered. I just picked up the cup and dropped it straight into the trash can.

A few days later, the tension in the company reached its peak.

It was the quarterly investor meeting. The grand boardroom was packed with the most powerful shareholders in the city.

Brandon sat at the head of the long mahogany table, radiating power.

Paula, despite having no actual position in the company, was perched in a chair right behind him, her hand resting possessively on his shoulder.

I stood at the front of the room, holding the presentation remote.

If you direct your attention to the screen, I said clearly, you will see the projected revenue for the upcoming quarter.

I clicked the remote.

The massive screen flickered. But it wasn't my financial slides.

It was a security video from Brandons private office. The timestamp in the corner was from months agothe night of our fourth divorce attempt.

My own voice, thick with tears and desperation, echoed loudly through the silent boardroom.

Please, Brandon. Just look at me. Don't do this.

On the massive screen, my past self was sobbing, clinging to his suit jacket. I watched in absolute horror as the video showed me desperately trying to kiss him, begging him to love me back, while Brandon stood there, cold and unmoving, looking at me like I was garbage.

The boardroom erupted into shocked gasps and frantic whispers.

Paula jumped up from her chair, her hands flying to her mouth in exaggerated horror.

Oh, god! she cried out, her voice piercing the room, trembling with fake devastation. Tears instantly spilled down her perfectly made-up cheeks. I can't believe youd do this to me, Victoria! Youre seducing your own CEO? Have you no shame? You knew we were together!

The remote slipped from my numb fingers, clattering against the floor.

Are you stupid? he roared, the sound bouncing off the mahogany walls. You couldn't even check the damn flash drive before you plugged it in? You just cost me three of my biggest investors!

I didn't put that video there, Brandon, and you know it, I said, my voice dead. But I don't care anymore. Keep the company. Keep Paula. I just want to leave.

Leave? Brandon sneered, his grip tightening. You think you can just walk away after what youve done? After you ruined my quarterly meeting? No. You are staying right here until I fix this. You aren't going anywhere until we get married again and fix this PR nightmare.

Im not marrying you

My words were cut off by the sharp ringing of Brandons phone.

He snatched it from his pocket, his eyes never leaving mine. What? he snapped.

He listened for a second, and all the color drained from his face.

What do you mean she had an accident? Brandon demanded, his voice dropping into a panic. Where is she?

He hung up the phone and glared at me with pure hatred. In her hysterics over what you did, Paula tripped and crashed through the glass display in the lobby. Her arm is shredded. The paramedics are saying she might need a skin graft.

He didn't hesitate. He yanked me toward the door. And youre going to give it to her.

I dug my heels into the carpet, fighting against his iron grip. No! Are you insane? I will not do that!

You will do it! Brandon shouted, his eyes wild with desperation for his first love. Youll do it for the sake of Paula, because youre the one who ruined our familys image today! You caused her to panic! If you don't do this, Victoria, I swear to God, you will never see the light again!

I froze. My breath hitched in my throat.

I stopped fighting. I let him drag me into the private elevator, into his car, and straight to the VIP wing of his familys private hospital.

When I woke up hours later, the side of my thigh burned with a stinging, agonizing pain. The hospital room was dark and completely empty.

I laid there staring at the ceiling. Brandon didn't come to check on me. Not that night, and not for the next three days as I recovered in absolute isolation. I was nothing but spare parts to him.

On the fourth nightthe eve of our supposed weddingthe door finally opened.

Im leaving, he announced coldly, checking his luxury watch. Paula is traumatized by everything youve put her through. She decided to go back to London, and I have to go to the airport to stop her.

I sat up slowly, the pain in my leg a dull throb. Tomorrow is the day you told me we were filing our marriage papers.

I know, Brandon snapped. I can't come. Im sending her home, so you need to go to the civil registry and file the paperwork yourself. Consider marrying me a punishment for making Paula leave again. Make sure you file it. Got it?

He turned on his heel and walked out, leaving me in the dark once again.

I didn't reply. I just listened to his fading footsteps, a slow, quiet smile spreading across my face.

The next morning, the sun was shining brightly over the city.

I wore a simple, elegant white dress. I limped slightly as I walked up the marble steps of the civil registry, but I had never felt lighter in my entire life.

I pushed open the heavy double doors. Standing at the end of the aisle, looking devastatingly handsome in a tailored black suit, was Vaughn.

He smiled when he saw me, stepping forward to gently take my hand. Ready to disappear, Victoria?

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