He Tried to Kill Me for the Insurance Money - Chapter 9: Chapter 9

I gaped at Victor, my disbelief written all over my face.
"Have you lost your damn mind? Why the hell would I wait around for someone like you?"
Victor's face fell like a crumbling sandcastle as he shook his head, his expression a mix of shock and denial.
"That's not true! You vowed to love me forever on our wedding day. You can't just—you don't get to walk away!"
I shoved him out the door and slammed it shut, twisting the lock before he could react.
Victor's arrogance had been fed by years of my blind devotion—years that made him think I'd always forgive him, no matter how deep the knife went.
But why the hell should I?
The next day, I went ahead with my engagement party like nothing had happened. Friends, colleagues, business partners—they all toasted to my happiness, and life moved forward as if Victor had never existed.
We set a wedding date. Things were finally falling into place.
But Victor, stubborn as ever, refused to take the hint.
After getting tossed out of my building, he started popping up everywhere—cornering me at work, ambushing me outside restaurants, even making a scene in front of Elliot, claiming he was still my husband.
It was getting out of hand. I couldn't let him ruin what I had.
So I sat Elliot down at a quiet café and laid it all out—every ugly detail of my past with Victor.
Elliot listened without interrupting, his hand covering mine by the time I finished.
"Consider this handled," he said, voice steady. "You won't have to deal with him again."
True to his word, within days, Victor disappeared.
I never asked what Elliot did. The scars Victor left—both on my skin and in my memories—were reminder enough of what he deserved. Whatever happened, I didn't lose sleep over it.
On Valentine's Day, Elliot and I signed our marriage papers.
As we slid rings onto each other's fingers, a warmth spread through me—a quiet, unshakable happiness I hadn't thought possible.
Funny enough, I owed that moment to Victor. His betrayals had taught me what love wasn't—and led me straight to the man who showed me what it was.
Months later, after closing a major deal, I parked my car and strolled toward my apartment, the evening air crisp against my skin.
Then, out of nowhere, a shadow lurched into my path.
Victor.
His cheeks were hollow, his eyes sunken—barely recognizable—but that same bitter resentment twisted his face.
"Didn't think you'd land on your feet without me," he spat. "Yet here you are, living your best life."
I exhaled, my patience thinning.
Victor's desperation spilled out in a rambling mess.
"Listen—I've changed. I've stayed clean, haven't touched another woman. Doesn't that mean anything? Ruby got what was coming to her because of me! Doesn't that count?"
I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt.
"The world doesn't revolve around you, Victor. Justice would've happened with or without your pathetic little 'help.'"
He grew frantic, grasping at straws.
"Everything I did—it was for us! Yeah, I screwed up, but I've had time to think. Ruby played me, but it was always you. You're the one I love!"
Tears welled in his eyes, clinging to some delusion where I'd take him back.