MidReal Story

The Billionaire’s Ex-Wife

tou lest

Scenario:Three years of marriage ended the day Christopher handed me the divorce agreement. His true love had returned, and I knew where I stood. I walked away gracefully, erasing every trace of myself from his life. I rebuilt my life, reestablishing my career as a doctor, earning respect and admiration from people who valued me. I thought I’d buried the past—until Christopher showed up again. His usually calm, dignified demeanor crumbled as he confronted me, his arms tightening around me. “Isabella,” he demanded, his voice trembling with anger. “Whose child is it?” I met his gaze, defiantly. “Whose child do you think it is?” “Darling,” he said, his voice softening, “if you’ll let me, I want to be the father.” Now, I have a choice to make.

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Three years of marriage ended the day Christopher handed me the divorce agreement. His true love had returned, and I knew where I stood. I walked away gracefully, erasing every trace of myself from his life. I rebuilt my life, reestablishing my career as a doctor, earning respect and admiration from people who valued me. I thought I’d buried the past—until Christopher showed up again. His usually calm, dignified demeanor crumbled as he confronted me, his arms tightening around me. “Isabella,” he demanded, his voice trembling with anger. “Whose child is it?” I met his gaze, defiantly. “Whose child do you think it is?” “Darling,” he said, his voice softening, “if you’ll let me, I want to be the father.” Now, I have a choice to make.

Isabella Blaine

doctor, exwife of Christopher, determined and resilient.

Christopher Lane

businessman, exhusband of Isabella, conflicted and possessive.

Natalia Lane

Christopher's true love and Isabella's rival.

Three years of marriage ended the day Christopher handed me the divorce agreement.

His true love returned, and I knew where I stood.

I walked away gracefully, erasing every trace of me from his life.

I rebuilt my life, reestablishing my career as a doctor.

I earned respect and admiration from people who valued me.

I thought I’d buried the past—until Christopher showed up again.

His usually calm, dignified demeanor crumbled as he confronted me, his arms tightening around me.

"Isabella," he demanded, his voice trembling with anger.

"Whose child is it?"

I met his gaze, defiantly.

"Whose child do you think it is?"

"Darling," he said, his voice softening.

"if you’ll let me, I want to be the father."

Now, I have a choice to make.

My name is Isabella, and this is a story about the choices we make in life…and love.

The day he gave me a divorce agreement was the day our three-year marriage ended.

I knew where I stood.

His true love had returned, and it was time for me to leave.

I signed my name without hesitation and left gracefully.

It was what I had to do…for love.

After signing the divorce agreement, I left the villa we shared and went straight to the bank.

Christopher had been kind enough to give me half of our assets, which surprised me.

I had thought he would give me a small amount, but instead, he gave me a lot.

I took the money and left the country.

I went to another city and started my life over again.

I used the money to buy a house and open my own clinic.

I worked hard and established myself as one of the best doctors in the city.

I earned respect and admiration from people who valued me for who I was, not because of my family name.

Three years passed, and I thought I had forgotten Christopher…until he showed up at my clinic.

He looked the same, handsome and dignified in his suit.

His dark hair was perfectly styled, and his blue eyes gleamed with intelligence.

But when he saw me, his expression changed.

His eyes darkened, his jaw clenched, and his hands balled into fists.

"Isabella," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"You’re pregnant."

I looked down at my belly, which was just starting to show.

It was true; I was pregnant.

But whose child it was wasn’t any of Christopher’s business. "The child is none of your concern," I said, my voice steady.

"You made your choice three years ago."

Christopher’s face darkened even more.

He took a step closer to me, but I stepped back, keeping distance between us.

The hospital corridor felt too narrow, too exposed.

A nurse walked past us, her footsteps echoing against the sterile walls.

I smoothed my white coat and straightened my name tag: Dr. Isabella Blaine.

It was a reminder of who I was now—a respected doctor with a life of my own.

Christopher reached for me again, but I dodged his hand.

My voice came out steady, clinical, like I was delivering a diagnosis. "You made your choice," I repeated.

"Now it’s time for me to make mine."

I turned and walked away, the sound of my heels on the floor echoing through the hallway.

Christopher’s gaze followed me, but I didn’t look back.

I didn’t need to.

My pager beeped, a convenient excuse to escape.

I glanced down at the screen, my eyes widening at the message.

Emergency surgery!