Dear Ex Wife, Please take me back novel Chapter 120

LEAH

Six days later…

“I hope you secure a good fortune after paying ten million for a ridiculous wedding dress!” Mum snaps as she adjusts the hem of my robe.

“Can we see it?” she asks, her voice softer this time, almost curious.

“No," I say, flipping my hair over my shoulder. "It’s not with me. I had to do makeup first.”

Dad grumbles something under his breath, still pale from the heart attack he nearly had when the bank called him.

Apparently, when someone drops ten million on a dress, the financial world panics.

They thought I’d lost my card. That some thief was out there playing dress-up with my future.

But no. I signed the authorization myself and left a copy with the boutique, just in case I change my mind and want a refund later.

Not that it matters.

Ten million is nothing compared to how much I’ll be entitled to once the vows are said, and my last name is King.

“In a few minutes," I remind them with a sparkling smile, "Alexander King will be your son-in-law. Do you have any idea how people will be begging to do business with you?"

Mum’s face softens slightly at that. Greed has always been her love language.

Dad puffs out his chest like he’s the one marrying Alex..

“Of course!” He chuckles. “We need to toast when we get home! All those who shunned the Woods will be crawling on their knees.”

I turn back to the mirror with a smile, studying myself with a critical eye.

I look like royalty.

No… even better.

I can already see the headlines splashing across every magazine, the posts going viral:

“The Wedding of the Century.”

“Leah King! An accomplished doctor and now wife to the most powerful man in the country!”

Athena must be rotting wherever she is, I'm sure the bitch Sloane told her the news and is probably wallowing in self pity.

I took back my man and added her son as a fucking bonus!

I adjust the diamond hairpiece atop my head and glance around, frowning.

Where the hell are the stylists?

"Where’s my makeup artist?" I demand, my voice barely controlled from the rage I'm feeling. "And my hairstylist? I need last-minute touch-ups before I walk out there looking like perfection."

How dare they dismiss themselves without my permission?

A trembling assistant, some girl whose name I never bothered to learn, steps forward, wringing her hands.

“They... they’re not here,” she stammers, avoiding my gaze like I’m a bomb about to detonate.

I stare at her for one stunned second.

Then rage bubbles up in my chest so hot I almost choke on it.

"Not here?" I repeat, my voice dangerously sweet.

The girl visibly swallows, shrinking back.

"You think this is some fucking birthday party at a Chuck E. Cheese?" I hiss. "This is my wedding to Alexander King! If anyone is playing with me today, I swear I’ll have their tongues served on a silver tray!"

I snap my fingers at the security standing stiffly by the door.

"Kick her out," I command, pointing at the useless assistant. "And send in the backup artists. Now."

The team moves instantly, grabbing the girl by the arm as she whimpers and pleads.

I don’t even blink as they drag her out.

I snatch my phone from the table and call Henry, it's like he's the only semi-competent person in my orbit.

He picks up on the first ring.

"Are the media houses here?" I snap.

“Yes, Miss,” he answers. "All the major ones. They're setting up now. Livestreams, cameras, the whole package.”

A slow, satisfied smile tugs at my lips.

Perfect.

I lower the phone and turn to my parents, who are as angry as I Am.

“Wait outside a bit” I tell them, my voice dripping with a cold tone. "I'll call you when it's time."

Then

“click.”

Oh no she fucking didn't!

The bitch hung up on me.

I stand there, frozen, the dial tone screeching in my ear.

For a moment, all I can do is stare at the phone, too stunned to even scream.

Then, very slowly, I lower it and turn back to the mirror, trying to calm my nerves.

But when I catch my reflection, I freeze.

Gone is the flawless, elegant makeup that cost more than most people’s rent.

In its place is... a horror show.

Thick, uneven foundation. Crooked lipstick. Blush slapped on like war paint. Mascara clumped so badly my lashes look like fucking spider legs.

I look like a clown that got into a fistfight with a paintball gun and lost.

Rage surges so violently through me that for a second, I genuinely think I might black out.

My hands tremble at my sides. My vision tunnels. I'm two seconds away from burning this entire fucking building down.

“Who did this!” I scream as tears of frustration roll down my cheeks.

I'm about to blow up when the door creaks open.

"Trouble in paradise?"

I whirl around so fast my robe flares out behind me.

Athena stands just inside the room, dressed in an elegant, black gown that hugs her curves perfectly.

Her hair is pinned up like a queen’s, her makeup flawless, and the sight makes me want to gage her eyes out!

“You bitch! Did you steal my dress and mess my makeup? I’m going to kill you!”

She tilts her head slightly, watching me with the detached amusement of someone observing a rabid dog through glass.

"Oh don’t be so mad. You look..." She pauses, pretending to search for the word, her smile widening. "...memorable