The Ex-Wife's Escape: From Betrayal to Revenge

Chapter 2

Sophia Williams was jolted awake by the sound of a shrill argument.

She pushed open the floor-to-ceiling window, and the morning breeze carried with it the piercing sound of curses. In the garden of the neighboring villa, a disheveled woman was gripping a man’s tie with white-knuckled fury.

"Ethan Johnson! I gave up my career to raise your children, and this is how you repay me?"

The woman’s wails were heart-wrenching. She raised her phone, the screen displaying an intimate photo of the man with a younger woman.

"What man doesn’t stray?" he snapped, yanking his tie free. "Are you done making a scene?"

A crowd of morning joggers by the lake began to gather, some already filming. The man’s expression darkened as he roughly dragged the woman inside.

Sophia stared blankly at the scene when suddenly, a pair of warm hands covered her ears.

"Don’t listen to that filth."

Ethan’s voice was low beside her. He stood in his robe, hair still damp from the shower.

"Ethan," Sophia said without turning, "do all men change their hearts?"

He turned her to face him, his gaze burning. "I won’t."

"A lifetime is so long..."

"Exactly because it’s long," he cupped her face, "that I only want you."

Sophia smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "What if you’re lying?"

"Then let me die a wretched death," he swore without hesitation.

The words stabbed through her chest. She caught the faintest trace of perfume on him—Isabella Taylor’s signature scent.

"Such a harsh vow..."

"Because I have nothing to hide." Ethan pulled her into his arms. "Sophia, I’d carve my heart out for you to see."

She rested her head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. How ironic—that heart had already betrayed her.

"Sophia! Ethan!"

A sickly sweet voice shattered the moment. Isabella stood in the doorway in a red spaghetti-strap dress, the hem so short it barely covered her thighs.

Ethan tensed almost imperceptibly.

"Company mixer today," Isabella twirled, "I’m off to find a boyfriend!"

Ethan frowned. "Dressed like that?"

The possessiveness in his tone made Sophia’s fingers go cold. Isabella shot her a smug glance. "Ethan, you should come too!"

"We’re visiting the family estate," Ethan said tightly, gripping Sophia’s hand.

Isabella pouted and sashayed away.

On the drive to the Johnson residence, Sophia watched the scenery blur past. Mrs. Johnson had never liked her, believing she hindered her son’s future. Today’s "welcoming" dinner would be anything but pleasant.

Sure enough, the moment they stepped into the living room, Mrs. Johnson slammed her teacup down.

"Finally decided to come home?" she sneered. "I thought you’d forgotten you had a mother!"

Ethan shielded Sophia. "Mom!"

"You’d choose her over your own family?" Mr. Johnson stood abruptly.

"Sophia is my wife," Ethan said firmly. "Anyone who disrespects her disrespects me."

Sophia stared at her husband’s unwavering back, her heart ice-cold. He defended her so convincingly—who would guess he’d been in Isabella’s bed just last night?

"Fine! Wonderful!" Mrs. Johnson trembled with rage. "Get out!"

Ethan took Sophia’s hand and turned to leave. But in that moment, Sophia saw his phone light up—a message from Isabella:

"Hotel room’s ready. Waiting for you~"