My Ex-Mr. Is Back and Wants Me Back

Genevieve's POV

Three years had passed since the painful chapter of my life when everything fell apart. As the CEO of a successful company, I immersed myself in work, dedicating my time to sealing deals and managing the business. My secretary informed me of an upcoming meeting with a partner, which I scheduled for the next day, making it clear that I had no patience for arrogant individuals later in the day.

Melissa, my assistant, prepared to leave for the day, and I granted her permission with a nod. She flashed a grateful smile before exiting my office. Closing my laptop, I glanced at the clock and realized it was already 5 in the afternoon. Taking a moment to admire the breathtaking view of New York City from my window, I leaned against the glass, watching the twinkling lights of the city's nightlife. The bustling crowd below reminded me that I was not alone in striving for success, while the few taller buildings stood as a reminder of the heights I still aimed to reach.

Three years ago, I made the agonizing decision to walk away from the love of my life, enduring unimaginable pain. Wesley had sent the divorce papers to my late mother's house, severing our connection with venomous words and his signature—a cruel testament to my insignificance in his eyes. I had desperately tried to reach out, hoping to explain that I hadn't betrayed him, concocting plans to prove my innocence. Yet, my calls were redirected to his secretary or sent straight to voicemail. In one last attempt, I returned to our shared home, only to find an empty house stripped of any remnants of our life together—no cars, no photographs, and no memories. It was as if I had been completely erased from his existence. Nevertheless, when I signed and returned the divorce papers, I took back my name and erased any trace of my existence in his life.

They say, "It takes a strong heart to love, but an even stronger heart to continue loving after being hurt." But I disagree. It takes a strong heart to love, but an even stronger mind to persevere after being abandoned. Though Wesley left me with nothing, I held onto my education, using it as a foundation to rebuild my life. I found employment, burying myself at work, and once I had enough resources, I purchased my own house and started my own business, which flourished. Now, I stand as the CEO of one of America's leading companies.

With time, I began to move on from Wesley. I ceased searching for him in crowded rooms, I stopped reaching across the bed to find his warmth in the mornings, and I abandoned the habit of comparing other men to him. However, the pain still lingered. He had been the only man I had loved so deeply, and for that, I would forever hold a bitter resentment toward him. Despite my attempts to forgive him, I couldn't. We had spent three years together, sharing trust and vulnerability, only for him to accuse me of infidelity. That wound would never fully heal.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, willing myself to let go of the bitterness and erase those three years from my mind. When the rumble of thunder reached my ears, signaling an approaching storm, I sighed and grabbed my laptop, slipping it into my purse. It was time to leave the office. Malachi, my bodyguard, stood by the elevator, ready to accompany me home. Some might consider it excessive to have a bodyguard, but past experiences had taught me that jealousy could drive people to do unthinkable things, especially given the wealth I had accumulated. I had risen from a background of poverty. My parents have been homeless during a significant portion of my childhood. Through hard work and perseverance, I earned scholarships that propelled me toward success.

As Malachi and I stepped into the elevator, I reflected on the importance of working diligently for what one desires, emphasizing that cheating in life was not a viable option.

"How was your day, Malachi?" I asked, breaking the silence that enveloped us.

"Just the usual, Ms. Chadwick," he replied, glancing back at me.

"Malachi, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Natasha?" I said, with a light tone.

"Excuse me, Natasha," he responded in his deep, husky voice.

As my business career progressed, I knew that at some point, I would have to face Wesley. That's why I changed my name, making it harder for him to track me down. Additionally, by assuming a different identity, I hoped to ensure that any business interactions would be devoid of personal emotions. I just had to make sure I never encountered him in person.

"Mhm," I murmured, a slight grin playing on my lips as I continued to gaze at Malachi. Standing at around 6'3", he had neatly slicked back dark brown hair and honey-colored eyes that I often found myself envying. A light stubble adorned his jawline, accentuating his handsome features. Like every other day, he wore a sleek black suit that perfectly hugged his frame, paired with a crisp button-down shirt. His appearance was undeniably captivating.

Although it pained me to admit it, I found myself incredibly sexually frustrated, and Malachi seemed like a possible solution to that predicament. The attraction between us was evident, but given my lack of trust in anyone romantically, I could only see him as a friend with benefits. Since Wesley, it seemed impossible for me to view anyone through a romantic lens.

The elevator doors opened, and both of us stepped out, with Malachi slightly behind me. What caught me off guard was his hand gently resting on my back. A mischievous smile formed on my face, and I decided to play along. He guided me out of the building, opening the door to the sleek black SUV he always used to take me home.

Placing my hand on his shoulder, I let it trail down to his arm as I settled into the back seat. I noticed his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, a clear sign of his nervousness. Internally, I relished in the power of making a man like him feel that way.

"To the house, Ms. - Natasha," he said, clearing his throat.

"Yes, please," I replied, unlocking my phone, aware of his eyes lingering on me through the rearview mirror. We were engaged in a dangerous teasing game, both inching closer to one another until one of us would eventually give in to the mounting tension.

As the air thickened with anticipation during the drive, a sense of relief washed over me when the car finally came to a halt in front of my house. Gracefully, I emerged from the vehicle, eager to breathe in the freedom from the charged atmosphere inside.

I walked toward my private elevator, knowing that Malachi would not be far behind, as he usually accompanied me to the elevator each evening. I swiped my card to unlock it, and as the two metal doors slid open, he slipped his arm between them to prevent them from closing on me. A seductive smile played on my lips as I awaited his words.

But to my disappointment, he broke our gaze and cleared his throat. "I will see you tomorrow, Natasha," he said, his voice slightly faltering.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Malachi," I replied, offering him a small smile.