His Ex Girl

Chapter 1- Hurtful Words and Woman Scorned

Yasmin's POV:

I eagerly scooped a generous portion of the steaming pasta onto my fork, its inviting aroma filling the air. As I brought it to my mouth, the vibrant explosion of flavors burst onto my taste buds, igniting a symphony of sensations. The perfectly cooked pasta mingling with the rich sauce left me utterly satisfied with myself.

This wasn't the first meal I've made. It likely wouldn't be the last, but it was one of the most significant because it was for my husband. Our one-year anniversary was officially here and even though this was just the anniversary of when we became a couple, I still wanted to make it special.

Married life was different, to say the least. It could be stressful as a normal person, but when you're married to a billionaire and you constantly face criticism from his family, it moves from being different to stressful and on some days; it was downright unbearable. Today was thankfully not one of those days and I could enjoy myself without having to look over my shoulder, or so I thought.

The front door opened and, with a quick glance at the security monitor installed in the kitchen, I watched as Ethan slammed the door shut a moment later. My eyes narrowed into slits as I took in the angry expression on his face. As far as I knew, it was a normal day at the office, so there shouldn't have been anything to make him this pissed off and he was good at leaving his work problems at work, so his angry display only confused me more.

"Yasmin!" he yelled. My name echoed in the empty house as he tossed his coat to the side and slipped out of his shoes. "Yasmin! Where the fuck are you?"

I was just about to shout a response when it dawned on me what he said. He definitely sounded angry, surprisingly he sounded angry at me. The second he burst into the kitchen, his eyes locked on me. The beautiful brown of his iris was a shade darker, more menacing. I've never seen him this way before.

"I'm so glad you're home." I jumped to my feet, ignoring the waves of anger that seemed to radiate off him. I was in front of him in record time, tossing my arms around his neck for a warm embrace. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it. I made all of your favorite food and I even grabbed a bottle from the cellar. I hope you don't mind, but we are celebrating, after all."

"Are we?" he grunted, his arms which hung loosely at his side reached up to grip my arm, shoving me away from him.

"What the hell!" The sudden movement startled me. My hand held onto the nearest chair so I wouldn't fall to the floor. That's how hard he pushed me- until I was seconds away from being a mere puddle on the ground. "Ethan, what are you doing?"

"What am I doing?" his voice was deeper still. "What are you doing?" He advanced on me. "How could you do this to me?"

I could only stare at him, hoping that my eyes showed the confusion I felt. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't know what I'm talking about," he mumbled to himself, eyes downcast, fingers clenched tightly into fists. He was furious and, for the second time tonight, I wondered why. What's made him so angry and why was he taking it out on me?

Taking a deep breath, I once again asked him what this was about. Maybe there was a misunderstanding. "I'm not sure what your problem is, but if you tell me what happened, we can work it out."

"I don't want to work it out!" he barked. "You betrayed me." I watched as he reached into his inner suit pocket to pull out photos- photos that he tossed in my direction- each one even more graphic than the last.

I immediately knew they were fake. Not only were they obviously staged, but they were so photoshopped it was ridiculous. I didn't bother reaching for the photos. I'd seen enough to know what he was accusing me of. After all the talk about trusting me and believing that I wasn't with him for his money, it all boiled down to this: an elaborate plan to paint me as something I'm not.