My Ex-Lover Wants Me Back? In Your Dreams! When I left Damian, everyone thought it was a tragedy. After all, I was the one who had been with him the longest, the one most likely to marry him. I’d even given him a son and a daughter. When I brought up breaking up, Damian was leaning back on the sofa, dangling a toy, amusing the kids. “If you leave, you’ll never see these little ones again. Think carefully.” I nodded. “I’m getting married. He doesn’t mind my age, he doesn’t mind that I’m not beautiful, and he doesn’t mind my past with you… I want to marry him.” Damian’s hand, shaking the rattle, paused. After a long moment, he gave a careless laugh. “Fine, suit yourself.” He was so utterly indifferent. So much so that later, when he’d ruined my husband’s company, forced me to divorce, and begged me to pity him, holding our children close— I genuinely thought it wasn’t him. I was practically raised in the Thorne family, groomed to be Damian’s wife. I was quite beautiful as a child. But as I grew up, I became… ordinary. Among Damian’s succession of gorgeous girlfriends, I was dull and plain. Damian didn’t like me. But I had been by his side for many years. So, he allowed me to have his children. A son and a daughter, raised by his parents, the most doted-on grandchildren in the Thorne family. Everyone said I was the woman most likely to marry Damian. Until I voluntarily decided to leave.
It was a late autumn evening. The mansion was warm and cozy. Damian leaned back on the sofa, shaking a toy to amuse the toddlers in their playpen. I placed a fruit plate in front of him. And told him I wanted to leave. “If you leave, you’ll never see these little ones again. Think carefully.” “I have thought it over.” I fidgeted with my hands as I spoke. “I’m getting married. He doesn’t mind my age, he doesn’t mind that I’m not beautiful, and he doesn’t mind my past with you… I want to marry him.” Damian’s hand, shaking the toy, froze. After a long moment, he smiled calmly. “Alright, if you’ve made up your mind, then suit yourself.” He was so utterly indifferent. I silently exhaled, a wave of relief washing over me. Powerful men always have this twisted possessiveness. Once they’ve branded a woman as theirs, they won’t let her go, even if they don’t love her. Fortunately, Damian wasn’t like that. I wiped my hands on my apron. Damian was back to teasing the two children with a toy. His voice was light, mocking. “Mommy doesn’t want you anymore, does she~” The two children burst into earth-shattering wails. My body stiffened. I fled as if my life depended on it.
When the news got out, many people came to persuade me. Eleanor Thorne, Damian’s mother, flew all the way back from Europe, gently pleading with me not to do this. “You have two children, and years of shared history with him. Who could ever compare to you? “Those women he’s with now? They’re just pretty faces, nothing more. They don’t have even a fraction of the history you share with him. “The position of Mrs. Thorne is yours, Seraphina. You’ve waited a decade, why abandon it now?” I hung my head, saying nothing. I’d heard these words far too many times. From when I first became an adult, to giving birth to two children, to their first birthdays. Damian’s girlfriends came and went, a revolving door. Yet I, the “already destined” Mrs. Thorne, was still waiting for a wedding that had no end in sight. “I’m sorry, Eleanor, but I don’t want to wait anymore.” I looked up, softly cutting her off. I pulled a deep red invitation card from my bag. “I’m getting married next month, Eleanor. I hope you can attend. “As my mother.” Eleanor’s lips trembled. But she sighed and took it. She had brought me from the orphanage into the Thorne family, raising me as her own daughter. I had always thought of her as my mother. “Alright, I’ll go. But please, think about it again. “Damian cares about you, he’s just… like that. His words aren’t always true.” Eleanor spoke endless good words about Damian, until her throat was dry. Just as she reached for her teacup, the invitation in her hand was snatched away by Damian.
He’d just gotten back, looking exhausted, still in his overcoat, a chill clinging to his face. He flipped through it with a pleasant smile. Seeing the cheap-looking invitation card, rough around the edges, he gave a low, dismissive chuckle. “Has your taste truly fallen this low? “Even if you don’t stay with me, you don’t need to debase yourself like this, just picking up some random guy.” “He’s not random.” I clutched at the hem of my dress, my voice soft. “He’s a friend from the orphanage. He’s very smart and he’s good to me. He’s just not well-off right now… I believe he’ll only get better.” He gave a careless laugh. With a sharp rip, he tore the invitation card in two. “Damian!” Eleanor cried out, a mix of shock and anger. “What are you doing!” He ignored Eleanor’s outburst, simply looking at me with an indifferent gaze. “If you’re going, then go completely. Don’t take anything with you. “The jewelry and clothes the Thorne family provided you, the house my mother gave you last year, the shares – everything must be left behind. “If you want to suffer with another man, you won’t leave with anything that reminds anyone of the Thornes. Understand?” This was all to be expected. I nodded. “I know.” “If I’m not mistaken, the clothes you’re wearing right now, I bought those too.” Damian slowly pointed towards the door. “Strip everything off and get out.”
My face instantly went pale. Eleanor rose, as if to argue, but flinched under Damian’s icy glare. A housekeeper politely, yet forcefully, escorted her away. Her lips trembled as she turned to me, her eyes filled with guilt. She and Damian weren’t close. In fact, Damian wasn’t close to any of his elders. Damian was already fully in charge, and she couldn’t stand up to him. She could only repeat, over and over: “Don’t go too far. Talk things through.” Damian gave a faint laugh. He leaned back on the sofa, legs spread, and asked me with a sneer: “Why aren’t you stripping? “Weren’t you so determined to leave? What are you hesitating about? “Can’t let go of the Thorne family’s wealth and prestige, or… can’t let go of me? “If you can’t, just say so. No one’s forcing you out—” Damian’s words abruptly stopped. Because I had, trembling, stood up, tears welling in my eyes, and began unbuttoning my top. Garments fell one by one, piling around my bare feet. His expression grew even darker. His gaze swept over my body for a moment, then he let out a scoff. “You’ve got some nerve!” He was genuinely furious. He slammed the teaware off the table. Taking huge strides, he grabbed the blanket from the sofa and roughly wrapped me in it. Pointing towards the door, he roared at me: “Get out!”
Snow was falling outside the mansion. The cold wind howled. I sat on the steps, my body naked beneath the blanket, shivering so hard my teeth chattered. I was waiting for my fiancé to pick me up. The lights were on in Damian’s room on the second floor. Through the thin curtains, his tall figure was faintly visible. He stood there, watching me, unmoving, looking down. His fingers seemed to be twirling a wisp of smoke. I was numb with cold, my blood feeling like ice in my veins. I curled up, eyes closed, refusing to show any weakness. Damian was waiting for me to beg, I knew it. His indifference that day was just a facade. He’d realized, belatedly, that I was truly leaving, and now felt the humiliation of his possession being claimed. He was mercifully giving me a chance to regret. If only I would turn back now. A low rumble—the sound of tires on asphalt. A black van pulled up to the mansion gates. Its paint was peeling, and one taillight was broken. It was completely out of place against the backdrop of the luxurious, elegant mansion. A man rushed out of the driver’s seat, his face anxious. The moment he saw me, his eyes reddened, pure anguish on his face, as if he might burst into tears. “Seraphina!” He rushed forward and embraced me, his hot tears soaking into my chest. “I’m here. Don’t be afraid. I’m here to pick you up. “Let’s go home.”
Liam Miller was a friend from my orphanage days. I had actually forgotten him. Until recently, when he found me and declared I was the love of his life. He swore he would do anything for me. I slowly chewed on those two words in my mind, then suddenly smiled. “Then… will you marry me?” His grip on my arm stiffened. He froze for a moment. Then, his face broke into a joyous, astonished smile. “Really? I can marry you? There’s such a wonderful thing in the world!” I stared at him, my expression blank. Having been with Damian all these years, I’d witnessed the shifting loyalties of people’s hearts. But at this moment, in his clear, bright eyes, I couldn’t find an ounce of falsehood or pretense. They seemed full, overflowing, with genuine sincerity. But—sincerity? Did I deserve such a thing? A woman Damian had used and tossed aside. A woman who’d debased herself, bearing children for a man who refused to acknowledge her—practically a concubine— I almost laughed out loud. “Are you sure you want to marry me?” He nodded. “Then go die.” I spoke the words, filled with malice. I expected him to get angry and leave. But to my surprise, his eyes widened, round and full of disbelief. “Do I… do I really have to die to marry you? “Then you’d be a widow, wouldn’t you? “Can’t we avoid that? I’m perfectly healthy. Or I could just change your lightbulb for you!” I was speechless. Later, I learned that Liam had been adopted by wonderful foster parents. They were a loving couple, their family harmonious. He grew up bathed in love, living a life completely opposite to mine. That’s how he developed his slightly naive, somewhat innocent personality. He was serious about wanting to marry me. From the moment I agreed, he had been planning our wedding for a long time.
Liam picked me up, intending to leave. He’d barely taken two steps when we were surrounded by bodyguards. The Thorne family’s bodyguards were all ex-military, in black suits, all muscle, their faces stern and intimidating. Mr. Finch, the butler, bowed respectfully. “Miss Seraphina, the young master has instructed that if you wish to leave, you must repay the Thorne family for the expenses of your upbringing over the years. “A total of one hundred and thirty million.” I poked my head out from under the blanket. My body was so numb with cold, I could barely feel anything. Even facing an absolutely astronomical sum like that, my heart couldn’t stir a single ripple of emotion within me. I looked back up at the second floor. Damian’s tall figure stood heavily by the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down. His silhouette was blurred, but I could still feel his suffocatingly oppressive presence. “Truly ruthless.” I murmured to myself. Mr. Finch looked pained. “Miss Seraphina, if you just be a little yielding with the master, everything will be fine. You’re different to him, after all.” “What’s different? He’s still just as ruthless as ever.” I gave a low laugh. I nestled my head further into Liam’s embrace, then extended my bare arm and wrapped it around his neck. “Liam, what should we do? So much money. It’s terrifying.” He tightened his arms around me, gently patting my back to comfort me. “Don’t worry, I’m here!” He was actually a bit nervous. The Miller family was just moderately well-off; a sum that large was something he couldn’t even imagine. But he didn’t abandon me. Instead, he held me closer, then, gathering his courage, looked up at Mr. Finch. “We’ll certainly pay back what we owe, but it can’t just be whatever amount you say. You need to provide proof!” Mr. Finch’s smile remained unchanged. “Of course, the proof will be provided shortly. “To prevent Miss Seraphina from getting cold, perhaps you both would like to rest inside the mansion for a while.” He politely gestured them in. Liam was a good kid, fresh out of college, and when someone was kind to him, he instinctively wanted to comply. “Don’t go in.” I patted Liam’s hand, stopping him from walking towards the mansion. I looked up, addressing the shadowy figure behind the floor-to-ceiling window, and smiled. “Mr. Finch, please tell Damian that if he doesn’t let me leave today, I’ll end it all right here. “I say it, I mean it.”
Mr. Finch was gone for a long time. So long that I grew drowsy. Liam had held me the entire time. He seemed a little tired, lowering his head to touch my nose with his forehead, then straightened up, blushing. “Seraphina, you smell so good…” Clapping sounds echoed. The crisp sound of leather shoes on the hall floor. I looked up. Damian, impeccably dressed, leaned against the doorframe, lazily watching us, and let out a scoff. “You chose such a penniless nobody just to get yourself married?” I closed my eyes, not looking at him. “Master, please, just let it go. You have no shortage of women. Please…” “I’d like to let it go, but the Thorne family has traditions, Seraphina. Those who defy certain oaths… pay a price. Thirty lashes. Do you remember?” He watched me with a smirk. “Family traditions are absolute. I can’t go against them. As soon as you endure thirty lashes, I’ll no longer stand in your way.” I froze for a moment, utterly bewildered. The Thorne family upheld their vows strictly, and I knew about their traditions concerning oaths. But Damian was the current head of the family! Everyone in the Thorne family relied on him; if he didn’t bring it up, who would dare raise an objection? He was deliberately making things difficult for me! After the words “thirty lashes” fell, the room plunged into a deathly silence. Mr. Finch looked at me, then at Damian, disapprovingly, finally sighing helplessly. “Miss Seraphina, just try to be a little yielding with the master. He was actually already making arrangements for your wedding to him—” “Silence!” Damian cut him off coldly. His narrow, predatory eyes fixated on me. Seeing that I had no intention of begging, he turned to Mr. Finch. “Prepare everything.”
I wore clothes borrowed from a maid, kneeling on the cold marble floor, my knees throbbing with pain. When family traditions were upheld, every member of the Thorne family was expected to witness the proceedings. There were people I knew, people I didn’t, and many enemies who had always resented me, now eagerly gathered to witness my downfall. “I knew it. Damian never cared for that woman, no matter that she bore him two children. A self-degrading harlot!” “She’s a pitiable soul, too. Ah, a mother subjected to family law means those two children are out of the running for inheritance.” “Thirty lashes! Will that woman even survive?” The surrounding voices were fragmented and annoying. Naked, undisguised malice fell squarely on my shoulders, on my back. I remembered a time, long ago, watching a similar proceeding in the Thorne family, clutching Damian’s sleeve, terrified. I asked if one day I, too, would kneel there and be beaten. He smiled, stroking my head. “Silly girl, you belong to me. Who would dare touch you? “I’ll protect you. Don’t be afraid.” And now, the man who promised to protect me was wiping dust from a dust-covered leather whip with a handkerchief. He was going to carry out the punishment himself. I trembled and closed my eyes. The crisp sound of leather shoes on the ground. The whip tapped my shoulder. Damian didn’t look at me. Instead, his gaze was fixed on the grand portrait of his stern-faced grandfather above the fireplace, his voice melodious. “You can still regret it now, it’s not too late.” I smiled faintly. “Master, I have no way back.” “What do you mean, no way?” He bent down, closer to me, wiping a tear from my eye, and whispered: “With me, you could practically bring down the sky, and no one would dare question you. “Come back. I’ll marry you. You’ll be Mrs. Thorne. Everyone who’s cursing and mocking you now will cower at your feet, desperate to please you. “Think it over carefully, don’t be stubborn, Seraphina.” Damian, with his immense pride, always used to being worshipped, was practically showing weakness by saying such things to me. His dark eyes watched me unblinking. A clear meaning shone in them: He was waiting for me to turn back. If I did, a grand future, a life of luxury, awaited. But I looked up, meeting his eyes, my fingertips trembling with an odd, almost exhilarating thrill. I heard myself say: “No, Master. “I’ve fallen in love with him. I won’t marry anyone else.” The dull sound of the whip lashing my back. Damian struck five times. An unprecedented chill and ruthlessness permeated him, and Mr. Finch didn’t even know how to intervene. I knelt on the ground in a sorry state, my back streaming with blood. Crimson drops dripped one by one, and tears, from the pain, uncontrollably welled up. Damian’s voice was cold. “I’ll give you one last chance. Do you want to come back?” I shook my head. Damian scoffed coldly. “Stubborn.” He raised his hand again, bringing it down hard. The whip’s tail cut through the air with a chilling *whoosh*. But it didn’t land on me. He dropped the whip. His eyes were shadowed, and a terrifying aura enveloped him, like a vengeful demon from the darkest depths. “You may go.” He said. “From this moment on, you and the Thorne family are no longer connected.”
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