My Husband’s Ex-Girlfriend Is Sleeping in Our Marriage Bed Chapter 09

My Husband’s Ex-Girlfriend Is Sleeping in Our Marriage Bed Chapter 09

I turned back to Julian.

Under the stage lights, he looked like he’d been stripped naked in public.

I smiled and placed a different folder on the podium in front of him.

“As for you, Mr. Vance.”

“During our marriage, you transferred $487,000 from our joint account to Miss Pierce’s personal account. The memos were ’emergency, ‘living expenses,’ and ‘tuition.’ Some of these happened before she even moved into my house. Which

means you two were in contact long before I knew.”

His pupils contracted.

The audience gasped in unison.

“I’ll be seeking the full return of those funds in the divorce proceedings,” I continued. “As of today, the locks on the house

have been changed. The cars have been reclaimed. If any unauthorized third party enters my residence again, I’m calling

the cops.”

I paused, looking into his eyes. My voice was a needle of ice.

“Sign the divorce papers as soon as this is over. I’ve already chased off the mistress. Don’t make me get rid of the

ex-husband the hard way.”

I dropped the mic. It thudded against the podium.

I walked off stage. No one stopped me,

I was almost at the exit when I heard heavy footsteps behind me.

Julian caught my wrist, his voice raw. “Sloane,”

I looked back. My face was a mask.

The hall behind him was blindingly bright; the hallway in front of me was dim. He stood right on the edge of the light.

“Did you have to take it this far?”

I slowly pulled my hand away.

“I didn’t take it this far, Julian,”

“You pushed me here.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “You know there was nothing physical between us.”

“But the whole world just saw where you put me compared to her.”

I stared him down. “I didn’t humiliate her because I wanted you back. I did it to tell her-and you-that as long as I am your legal wife, that seat doesn’t belong to anyone else.”

His eyes were bloodshot. It was the first time I’d ever seen him lose his composure in public.

“Let’s go home and talk,” he pleaded, his voice low.

“To which home?”

I laughed.

“Do you think that house is still yours?”

I pulled a list from my pocket and pressed it into his hand.

The bedroom, the study, the garage-all re-keyed. Your things are being packed. They’ll be at your office tomorrow.”

“Sloane!” his voice rose, desperate.

I looked at him with a pity that was almost cruel.

‘Don’t call my name.”

“I used to turn around every time you called. Not anymore.”

The Vance Group finished the ceremony, but the next day, there was no news about the project.

The trending topics were brutal.

#VanceGroupAffair

#WifeOfTeYear

#MistressMeltdown

Vivian was dismantled by the internet within hours.

She had posted so much “independent single mom” content over the years. Once the evidence was out, her

‘independence” became the joke of the century,

She fled her apartment that night.

A true disappearing act. She packed her bags, grabbed the kid, and vanished. Phone off. Social media deleted. Even Mrs.

Vance couldn’t find her.

When Tess heard the news, she nearly choked on her coffee laughing.

“Your speech is being quoted everywhere,” she said, leaning back in her chair.

I rubbed my temples. “Don’t celebrate yet. The divorce isn’t final.”

“Relax.” Tess slapped a stack of files onto my desk. “When have I ever let you lose?”