President’s Secret Obsession With Ex-wife

The room fell into a profound silence, broken only by the ticking of the wall-mounted alarm clock.

Nick felt a sense of deja vu, as if he were trapped in a surreal, unending loop. Could she really be calling him “honey” due to a case of mistaken identity?

The crystal chandelier cast a gentle glow on her profile, and she continued, “I can’t recall the events of that night, and I believe Mr. Andrews may have also chosen to forget it. I apologize for previously mistaking you for my husband.”

As mature adults, Victoria understood that the antics at the Andrews family banquet were driven by Cynthia’s mischief. Nick couldn’t be held responsible for those events, nor was there any blame to be assigned.

Now, her professional endeavors took precedence, and dwelling on the past was futile.

“If you are interested in my designs, Mr. Andrews, please feel free to express your preferences.” Casually transitioning to discussing work, she seemed to suggest that the events of that night were inconsequential.

Nick didn’t answer her right away. While in the bathroom earlier, he had inadvertently noticed lingering marks through her semi-transparent attire.

He remembered how out of control he had been that night, and that day her condition only got worse.

She’d gone home like that and her husband hadn’t even filed for divorce? Did he not care about her, or was there something wrong with their relationship.

With a nonchalant expression, he leaned against the sofa, his demeanor returning to its usual cool and collected state.

“I must apologize if our previous encounter had any impact on your marital relationship,” he began.

However, before he could finish his sentence, Victoria interjected, “No.”

She met his gaze directly, her eyes brimming with sincerity. “My husband and I are as close as ever.”

The words hung in the air, reiterating the truth: he had been a stranger then and remained one now. Nothing had altered their existing relationship.

Nick wasn’t particularly invested in her personal life or marital affairs. Still, her statement brought a hint of cynicism to his eyes, as if to say, “Really?”

No man could tolerate his wife’s infidelity, regardless of how strong their love might be.

Another man must not encroach on his territory.

Recalling Victoria’s earlier claim that she could earn at least a million dollars if this project succeeded, Nick couldn’t help but wonder about her husband’s role in their relationship.

Why was she shouldering the financial burden alone?

Nick stood up, his voice even and detached. “The design for Serene Haven Estates can be yours as part of the…”

As he spoke, his gaze lingered on her rosy lips. “Compensation for that night.”

Her lips were exquisitely shaped, with a subtle curve at the center that revealed a tiny dimple when puckered.

A flicker of surprise crossed Victoria’s eyes, disbelief that the opportunity to acquire the Serene Haven Estates project could be a reality.

“Fine,” she replied, “I won’t disappoint you, Mr. Andrews. If you have any ideas or preferences, please don’t hesitate to communicate them to me.”

Victoria appeared unfazed by Nick’s deliberate mention of “compensation.” Her reaction, or rather her lack of one, left Nick feeling uncomfortable. Just half an hour ago, she had been kissing and embracing him, but now she appeared as cold as ice. For the first time in over two decades, Nick felt genuinely ignored, a sensation that was deeply unsettling.

As he moved to the door, she interjected, “Mr. Andrews, the money for the suit?”

Nick responded icily, “Consider it a gift.”

With a brusque opening of the door, he exited the room, leaving Victoria alone.

Victoria felt her legs go weak, and fine beads of sweat dotted her forehead. She returned to the bathroom, where she splashed cold water on her face repeatedly to clear her head.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

Weston’s concoction seemed to have lingering effects, and she still felt a fiery discomfort within her body, as if a swarm of ants were crawling beneath her skin.

Knowing that Nick had allowed her to keep the room, she decided to fill the tub with cold water once more. It was a necessary but uncomfortable remedy.

Despite the frigid water, Victoria removed her clothes and neatly placed them to the side. She gingerly immersed herself, teeth chattering from the cold. Exhausted, she leaned over the tub’s edge and drifted into slumber.

When she awoke, the room was bathed in morning light, and she realized it was nearly 7 a. m. Her legs wobbled as she stepped out of the tub. Although the effects of the drug had worn off, she felt light-headed from spending the night in the cold water, with fleeting blackouts.

Drying herself hastily, she donned a fresh set of clothes. Clinging to the wall, she barely managed to exit the room, deciding to head to the hospital first.

As she opened the door, she was startled to see a sharply dressed figure standing on the opposite side of the hallway. He was impeccably groomed and wore a finely tailored black suit that accentuated his striking features.

Summoning her politeness, she called out, “Good morning, Mr. Andrews.”

Nick turned to look at her, responding with a nonchalant “hmmm” as he made his way to the elevator.

Victoria pressed the elevator button and offered a polite smile. “The cost of last night’s attire and the room must amount to a considerable sum. I’ve heard that this hotel serves an excellent breakfast. Do you have time for it, Mr. Andrews? My treat.”

Nick had initially considered declining, as he had several morning meetings to attend. However, he couldn’t help but notice her pallor and the fatigue in her wet eyes. With a slight furrow of his brow, he agreed in an icy tone, “Fine.”