Dear ex-Wife please be mine again

Chapter 170

Daniel’s POV. NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.

I leaned against the cold wall of the warehouse, the sharp bite of liquor burning my throat as I tilted the bottle back. The amber liquid swirled in the dim light of the single bulb hanging above me. Somewhere, far enough to keep her desperate cries at bay but close enough for me to hear the occasional muffled sob, Christiana was breaking. And a part of me…a small, buried part…twisted with guilt.

But then I remembered.

I remembered the countless nights I stayed awake, thinking about her smile, replaying her laughter in my head like a haunting melody. I remembered how I built my life around her, only for her to tear it apart by choosing him. Alex. The name alone was enough to make me sneer. That bastard didn’t deserve her, didn’t deserve their kids, didn’t deserve to even breathe the same air as her.

And yet, she chose him.

I slammed the bottle onto the table, the sound echoing through the empty corridor. My hand tightened around the neck of the bottle, my knuckles white. “Why, Christiana?” I muttered under my breath, my voice low and bitter. “Why him? After everything I did for you… after everything I could’ve given you.”

I took another swig, the liquor doing little to dull the fire raging inside me. My reflection glared back at me from the cracked surface of a discarded mirror propped against the wall. The man staring at me wasn’t the Daniel Brooks I once knew. He was harder now. Darker. His once–kind eyes now held a cold, calculating edge.

“This is your fault,” I spat at the reflection, my jaw tightening. your endless

You made me like this, Christiana. You and devotion to that waste of space.”

I raked a hand through my hair, pacing the room. The kids were asleep in a makeshift corner I’d set up earlier. They were innocent, blissfully unaware of the chaos surrounding them. A small part of me knew they didn’t deserve this, but that part was quickly smothered by the bitterness that consumed me.

“They’re her weakness,” I muttered to myself, the words bitter on my tongue. “And weaknesses are meant to be exploited.”

I thought back to her face when I told her they were here. The way her knees wobbled, the tears that spilled down her cheeks. For a moment, just a fleeting second, I felt a pang of regret. But then her voice sounded in my head again, that tone she used when she talked about Alex. The man who’d hurt her, abandoned her, and yet, she still chose him.

“Why wasn’t I enough?” I asked the empty room, my voice cracking with the weight of my own pain. “I would’ve given her the world. I tried to give her the world.”

My hands trembled as I took another drink, the burn of the alcohol grounding me, reminding me of why I was doing this.

“Because she deserves it,” I said aloud, forcing myself to believe it. “She deserves to know what it feels like to lose everything Just like I did.”

The door creaked open, and I glanced toward it, expecting the masked man to appear. Instead, it remained still, the faint sounds of Christiana’s sobs drifting through. I smirked to myself imagining her down there, begging and pleading for her children.

“She always was stubborn,” I said with a bitter laugh, swirling the liquor in the bottle. “But even the strongest will break eventually. And when she does… she’ll see. She’ll see that I’m the only one who truly cares for her.”

I leaned back against the table, closing my eyes for a moment. Images of the past flashed through my mind…Christiana in that blue dress she wore to Alex’s gala, her laughter as she dance, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about her dreams.

My grip on the bottle tightened until my knuckles ached. “That was supposed to be our life,” I growled. “Not his. Not Alex’s”

I stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as I moved. My boots sounded against the concrete as I crossed the room to check on the kids. They were curled up on the small cot I’d arranged, their tiny chests rising and falling with each breath. For a moment, just a fleeting second, the walls I’d built around myself wavered.

“They’re just kids,” I muttered, running a hand over my face. “They didn’t ask for this.”

But then I thought of Christiana again. Of her tears, her pleas, her devotion to a man who didn’t deserve it. My resolve hardened, and I turned away.

“This is the only way,” I told myself firmly. “The only way she’ll understand. She has to lose to appreciate what she had. To appreciate me.”

The door to the basement creaked open again, and the masked man stepped out, his silent presence unnerving even to me. I nodded at him, jerking my head toward the corner where Christiana sat.

“She’s still holding out?” I asked, my voice cold.

He nodded once.

“Good,” I said, smirking. “Let her stew for a while longer. The more desperate she gets, the easier this will be.”

The masked man didn’t respond, he walked away. I stared after him for a moment before returning to my spot by the table. The liquor burned as it slid down my throat, but it wasn’t enough to numb the ache in my chest.

“I used to be a good man,” I said quietly, staring into the empty bottle. “I used to believe in love, in loyalty, in all that crap, And look where it got me.”

I slammed the bottle down, the sound reverberating through the empty room. “Never again,” I vowed, my voice steely. “Never again will I let anyone make me feel like I’m not enough. Not her, not Alex. No one.”

I leaned back, my smirk returning as I thought of Christiana’s tear–streaked face. “By the time this is over,” I murmured, “she’ll understand. She’ll know what it feels like to be broken. And she’ll know that I’m the only one who can put her back together.”

The thought sent a twisted sense of satisfaction coursing through me, and I chuckled darkly. Somewhere in the depths of the warehouse, Christiana was falling apart. And for the first time in months, I felt like I was winning.