My CEO Husband Hired His Ex - Chapter 9: Chapter 9

Three days later, my lawyer called with good news—Lucian had finally agreed to sign the divorce papers. The only catch? Marina still owed me two million, but they wanted to pay in installments. Fine by me. At that point, I just wanted it over with.
When my lawyer asked about the house—the one Lucian and Marina had already moved out of—I didn't hesitate. "Sell it." That place used to mean something to me, a future I'd dreamed up with Lucian. Now? Just a bad memory.
With the divorce paperwork in motion, I threw myself into work.
Then, out of nowhere, an old colleague hit me with some juicy gossip. "Selene, you're not gonna believe this—Lucian's marrying Marina."
I shrugged. "Good for them."
But she wasn't done. "Oh, it gets better. Marina's blackmailing him. She's got dirt on him—bribery, apparently—and she's squeezing him dry. The wedding? Only the most expensive venue in the city, designer everything. She's bleeding him for every penny."
I couldn't help but laugh. Suddenly, it all made sense—why her ex-husband went bankrupt so fast. The woman was a professional leech.
My colleague leaned in. "And here's the kicker—he's dipping into company funds to pay for it. The business was already on thin ice, and now? It's a ticking time bomb."
I smirked. "Well, if it all goes south, you know where to find me."
A month later, Lucian and Marina's wedding was splashed across every tabloid. The extravagance was ridiculous—clearly, he'd emptied his bank account for this circus. But hey, that was his choice. His problem.
Meanwhile, my new venture was thriving, thanks in no small part to Lance. The kid had come into his own—sharp, hardworking, and surprisingly thoughtful. The whole office noticed.
"Ms. Westbrook," one of my employees teased, "I think Lance might have a crush on you."
I rolled my eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. There's an age gap."
But then, one evening after a dinner meeting, as we waited for the car, Lance handed me a bouquet.
I was mid-polite refusal when someone shoved past me, snatched the flowers, and hurled them to the ground.
Before I could react, a fist flew at Lance—who dodged effortlessly and countered with a single punch, sending the attacker sprawling.
Only then did I recognize the drunken mess on the floor: Lucian.
"Who the hell are you?" he slurred, glaring at Lance. "Who said you could give my wife flowers?"
I stared at him, disgusted. It hadn't even been that long, but he looked like he'd aged a decade—his polished facade completely shattered.