Chapter 2: Were We Ever Married, Ethan?

"Bella, who the fuck is that?" Ethan didn't know when he started yelling, "Answer me when I'm talking to you. For crying out loud, answer!"

"Later. Dinner first," Bella's hushed voice said, and Ethan didn't need to be with her to know those words weren't meant for him.

He yelled in disbelief again, "Bella!"

"Ethan, I was going to tell you about him."

"What the…?" He pinched his forehead and dragged a hand through his hair as fury burned inside him. "You cheated on me, and you were just going to tell me about him!"

"Our marriage was a joke, Ethan,” she sighed. “I didn't have a choice. I met someone who has a future, because that is something you and I both know you don't have. My kids will look up to him as a role model."

"You had a fucking choice, Bella. You had me."

"But you have no money! I was patient for three years."

"Then talk to me. Don't fucking cheat. It's simple human relations 101."

Pamela ripped the phone out of his hands before he could finish. Ethan's raised voice withered, but his anger didn't. He saw red.

"Give me my phone!" Ethan growled.

But Beckam replied while shaking his head. "Have some sense of self-worth, at least, Ethan. Bella's with another man at the Royale resort, and you seem like you are ready to beg for her to take you back."

"That's right," Pamela lifted her chin like this was her proudest moment: "My daughter is marrying the son of the owner of that powerful oil company! Someone you can never compare to."

Ethan dug his fingernails into his palms, but that pain couldn't erase the sting Pamela's words left inside his heart. Bella betrayed him.

"Leave my house." Ethan wanted to storm away, but Beckam hauled him back to where he stood before.

"And just where do you think you are going?" Beckham scoffed.

Three years was a long time to just cut him off, like he never mattered. Ethan kept trying to convince himself.

"Away from your stinking family, that is."

"Stinking?" the skin underneath Pamela's eye twitched.

"You heard me—"

A slap landed on his face. Her nails had even scratched his cheek while at it. It stung, but Ethan held it in, placing a hand over the area.

Pamela slapped him again on the cheek, pouring wine all over his head. She lost it; even the roses had become a weapon.

Ethan was red in the face and drenched in wine and petals once she finished with him. He swallowed the mountainous rage inside him.

"You win, Pamela. I'll sign the divorce papers tomorrow. Now, leave my house," he muttered in a broken voice, hoping that this time they would finally disappear from his sight.

Beckam laughed, pulled out his phone, and made a quick call. At that instant, two of his security officers walked into Bella's house. They grabbed Ethan's arms against his wishes and bundled him outside.

"Throw everything he owns after him," Beckham snarled. "I'm certain it would be too insignificant to make a difference."

After they had done that, they jammed the door in his face. Ethan looked around him. He just had a small luggage port. The only thing he had come into Bella's life with

All the clothes she had bought for him, the accessories—they had taken them all back.

He rushed to his feet, determined to end this nightmare. Ethan grabbed his bicycle and rode to the Royale resort that Beckham had unconsciously shared.

When Ethan arrived at the grand hotel, he was in awe. Anyone would be at the sight of a place like this. He left his bicycle at the corner of the building, next to a pile of trimmed bushes.

The doorman stopped him, thinking he was mad. "This is no place for someone like you."

"If you get in my way, a broken nose will be your reward." The menace in Ethan's voice did the trick.

The doorman moved out of the way, but not without quickly placing a call to the resort's security department.

Ethan approached the counter with hurried steps, but the second he crossed the arched entry in the lobby, leading to the restaurant, he glimpsed his wife.

He had even heard her giggling despite the crowd present in this lobby, but that sound was one that always undid him; it made him feel he was lucky to have abandoned everything to be with her.

Ethan made a beeline for the arched entry. He got there and found that it led to the resort's restaurant. He followed his gut and barged into the next door.

All eyes fell on his glorious self, drenched in red wine and sorry rose petals.

He had found Bella.

"Bella!"

The tall guy across from her on their table stood up first. He was around Ethan's height, but his clothes were clean and well-cut on a toned body. He looked like he smelled nice; he smelled like wealth.

"And who are you?" The guy growled.

Ethan came forward despite the audience he now had. "Her husband, you bastard!"

"Ex. Husband," he clarified, steam pouring from him. However, he stayed put at the table when Bella's hand found its way to his chest, placating him.

Bella shook her head. "Marco, please. Let me handle this."

Marco looked behind her at Ethan, who felt worse than a fool. His eyes returned to his date, and then he leaned in, giving her a kiss that beat the standard. He ravaged her in barely a few moments.

Ethan hated the way he noticed how good Marco was—better than him, better than he would ever be.

Bella turned to him after she had been kissed senseless. Her eyes were stern. Ethan's eyes mirrored hers.

He made sure to make his words loud and clear for all the ears listening. "Just two nights ago, you were telling me I was the only man who could make you feel good."

Bella thinned her lips. "All you make me feel is disgust."

The words hit him like a ton of bricks. He hated the way his eyes popped in shock. This was new. Had it all been a lie?

"Bella, I gave up everything for you."

"Oh, shut up,” she said, rolling her eyes. "How do you give up something when you have nothing, Ethan?"

Ethan remained silent, just fuming.

"I thought as much," she muttered at his lack of words, tossing a check at his feet.

"Sign the divorce papers, and you can have all of it."