My Ex-wife is a Hidden Heiress!

　　Valenticia's POV:

　　I stood in the kitchen, my fingers trembling slightly as I arranged strawberries around the rim of a porcelain plate. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the rich aroma of buttered croissants and scrambled eggs.

　　"Is this alright, madam?" Maria, the maid, held up a crystal vase filled with soft pink peonies—Dmitri's favorite.

　　"It's perfect." I whispered, my voice barely rising above a whisper.

　　"Madam, shall I bring in the flowers?" She asked, once again.

　　"Yes, please." I offered a smile, clutching the hem of my lavender dress. "Set them by the table."

　　When she was done, I turned to her with a wide smile. "Thank you, Maria."

　　She nodded, returning the smile before retreating into the corridor.

　　I wanted everything to be perfect.

　　Tomorrow would be our first anniversary. One year since I had married Dmitri Galden, trading my heart and future for an arranged marriage.

　　It was meant to be, something his grandfather wanted, but somewhere along the lines, my heart had betrayed me. I had fallen in love with my husband, despite the cold, business-like terms that bound us.

　　And for the first time in a year, he finally acknowledged me as his wife and consummated our marriage last night.

　　Since it was the first night we had shared a bed, I am convinced that it's the beginning of something real.

　　I smoothed my dress, a lavender silk that Dmitri had once complimented. My hair fell in loose waves over my shoulders, and I had dabbed a bit of his favorite perfume on my wrists. I wanted everything to be perfect.

　　A creak echoed through the hall. I turned, my heart leaping.

　　"Dmitri?"

　　He stood at the entrance, already dressed in a black suit, his brown hair was still damp from a shower, strands clinging to his forehead. He looked every bit the powerful CEO, exuding a cold, unapproachable aura.

　　"I made breakfast." I said, forcing brightness into my voice. "I thought we could celebrate early—"

　　"I don't have time." He said, coldly.

　　"But... I wanted us to have a nice breakfast, you know, before our anniversary." I took a hesitant step forward. "It's been a year, Dmitri. I thought—"

　　"Don't." His gaze slid past me. "I have meetings all day."

　　"Please." My voice cracked. "Just a few minutes. I made your favorite—"

　　He was already walking away.

　　Feeling really desperate, I reached out for his sleeve. "Dmitri!"

　　He paused. "Let go, Valenticia."

　　"Just one bite. One sip of coffee." Anything. Please."

　　He turned, and the look in his eyes stole the breath from my lungs. There was nothing there, no warmth, no recognition. Just coldness.

　　"I said I don't have time."

　　And then he was gone.

　　I stood there, my arm still outstretched, my hand grasping nothing but air.

　　I waited for him all day, till it was night.

　　The dinner I prepared went cold, and the candles burned down to waxy stubs.

　　I sat by the window, my vision blurred by both tears and the darkness outside.

　　'Will he come back?' I asked myself, as I forced my eyes to stay open.

　　I must have dozed off because when I opened my eyes again, the sun was already rising. I sat upright, my heart thundering.

　　Then I rushed to the window, to see his car in the driveway.

　　I smoothed my dress and ran down the hall. His bedroom door was slightly ajar, as I rushed in.

　　The shower was running.

　　So I stood there, pacing back and forth. My mind racing with a thousand and one questions.

　　When he emerged, he stepped out with a towel wrapped around his waist and I rushed to him.

　　"Dmitri!" I began. "You came home."

　　He said nothing, so I continued. "Where were you? I waited all night. Did I do something wrong? Why are you avoiding me?" My words tumbled out.

　　He ignored me, moved to the dresser, opened the drawer, and pulled out a stack of papers. Then he turned, around with his hands stretched out. "Sign these." He demanded.

　　My fingers curled around the edges of the stack. "What are these?" I asked.

　　"Divorce papers." He replied, curtly.

　　My eyes widened, and my fingers trembled as it gripped the papers tightly. "Why?" I finally managed to ask. "The other night—" I stuttered. "Dmitri, please. I don't understand. After... after that night, I thought—"

　　"That night a mistake." He interjected

　　"But it wasn't! It meant something—I know it did!"

　　"It was a mistake." He repeated. "That night. I was drunk."

　　"But... but we're married. We made vows—"

　　"I don't love you, Valenticia."

　　"You said... you said you'd try. You promised." I clapped back, my voice rising.

　　"I promised nothing. This was a business arrangement, and now it's over." He replied, coldly.

　　"Then why... why consummate our marriage?" My voice rose. "Why give me hope?"

　　"I spent my whole life proving myself to him. Being the perfect grandson. The perfect heir. But my grandfather had to throw the ultimatum, of marrying you or losing my inheritance." He began. "And in order to prove myself to him, I married you and lost the love of my life. But, my grandfather is dead and I don't have to be with you anymore."

　　I stumbled back, the edge of the bed catching me. My knees buckled, and I sank onto the mattress. "I know you love me, Dmitri."

　　"Stop it, Valenticia!" He barked. "Natasha is back, the woman I love is back. So I don't need this anymore."

　　Tears welled up in my eyes as I asked. "Are you really doing all these to me because your Ex-girlfriend has returned?"

　　And he nodded.