My Billionaire Ex-Husband Begs

At his grandmother's funeral, Michael Johnson should have been by his wife's side. Instead, Olivia Smith watched as her husband entertained his first love, Sophia Brown, turning the solemn occasion into what felt like a wedding announcement. He completely ignored Olivia and their three-year-old daughter, Bianca.

The chapel was filled with notable figures from politics and business, their presence attracting a swarm of media. Camera flashes strobed relentlessly, capturing the scene for the public eye. The whispers started almost immediately.

"Is that Mrs. Johnson? She looks good with him."

"That's not her. She's Mrs. Johnson, standing by the portrait."

"What? Then who is the woman with Mr. Johnson?"

"That's Sophia Brown, his first love. She just returned from abroad, a successful CEO now."

"I heard Mrs. Johnson forced her way into the marriage using the old Mrs. Johnson's favor. She broke up Michael and Sophia."

"A homewrecker… No wonder he won't even look at her."

The hushed, venomous words cut through Olivia’s grief. Her gaze lifted, meeting a sea of disdainful eyes before landing on Michael. He stood before his grandmother's portrait, tall and imposing in a black suit, his handsome face a mask of cold sorrow. But when he looked at Sophia, the ice in his eyes seemed to thaw, replaced by a flicker of warmth. He then escorted Sophia and her son to pay their respects, never once glancing toward Olivia or his own daughter.

Bitterness flooded Olivia’s heart. Their marriage had been their grandmother Emily’s doing. Years ago, a car accident had left Michael's legs disabled and his spirit broken. As a therapist, Olivia had been hired to help him. She’d nursed him back to health, pulling him from the depths of depression.

On the night he finally walked again, the family threw a celebration. Drunk and euphoric, he had held her, whispering her name. Overwhelmed with joy, she had given him everything.

She later became pregnant, and at Emily's insistence, they married. Now, their daughter was three, and this was the first time Olivia had ever heard of a "first love."

A chilling doubt crept in. On that night, had he been calling her name, or Sophia’s?

Her thoughts were interrupted as Michael finally walked over to her, his expression grim. "The media is everywhere," he warned, his voice low and sharp. "Take care of Bianca. I won't have any trouble at my grandmother's funeral."

The warmth he’d shown Sophia was gone, replaced by the familiar, chilling indifference. Olivia’s heart iced over. She had a thousand questions, but this was not the time or place. For Emily’s sake, she needed to keep the peace. Wordlessly, she took Bianca’s hand and led her to the family lounge.

Michael frowned at her silence but turned back to Sophia, whose eyes were red from crying. He offered her his handkerchief, a gesture of inappropriate tenderness that drew everyone’s attention.

No one noticed a little boy slip away and head toward the lounge.

Olivia was comforting a quiet Bianca when the door burst open. Sophia’s son, Aiden, swaggered in. He stared at Bianca, a cruel smirk on his face.

"Is that Daddy Michael's daughter?" he taunted. "I heard she's broken in the head. Is it true?"

Olivia froze. The words were shockingly vicious for a child. And he called Michael ‘Daddy’?

"Who taught you to say that?" she demanded, instinctively shielding Bianca. Bianca's autism was a private matter. How could he know?

Aiden pressed on, emboldened. "Why doesn't she talk? Is she mute? Or just stupid? No wonder Daddy Michael doesn't like her."

A mother's fury erupted in Olivia. "You ill-mannered child! Get out!" She grabbed his arm to pull him from the room, desperate to protect Bianca from his toxic words.

"I'm not leaving!" Aiden shouted, struggling against her. "Daddy Michael will only like me!"

He started screaming, and the commotion drew immediate attention. Media members rushed toward the lounge, cameras raised. Suddenly, Michael was there, shutting the door in their faces. He glared down at Olivia, his voice laced with fury.

"What are you doing? Let go of Aiden now!"

"He insulted Bianca!" Olivia cried, her voice trembling with rage. "I was just trying to make him leave!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Michael snapped, his eyes cold with disbelief. "Aiden just met her. Why would he insult her?"

His refusal to even listen was a slap in the face. Olivia’s hands fell away from the boy. He would never believe her. The realization plunged her heart into an icy abyss. She turned and pulled Bianca into her arms.

The rest of the Johnson family arrived, their faces masks of scorn.

"Olivia, must you cause a scene today, of all days?" Michael's mother, Amelia, accused.

"You're just jealous of Sophia," his brother, Chase, sneered. "Making trouble at Grandma's funeral. If you don't want to be here, then leave!"

Not a single person defended her.

"The family tribute is starting," Michael said, his tone final. "Don't cause any more trouble."

A bitter laugh escaped Olivia’s lips. "Am I even family to any of you? You protect the child who insults our daughter, but you won't even listen to me. Do you care about Bianca at all?"

Her eyes, full of sorrow and newfound resolve, met his. "Michael, you will regret this."

Without another word, she picked up Bianca and walked out of the funeral, leaving Michael’s furious, darkened face behind her.

Outside, the cold wind felt like a physical blow, but it was nothing compared to the pain in her heart. The four years of their marriage, built on what she now knew was a lie, lay shattered.

The lie was over. It was time to wake up.