How I Remarry My Ex-Wife by Alvin Humphre

As Whitney opened the door, her heart skipped a beat–it was Thiago. The twinkle she had in her eyes vanished the second she saw him. “What now, Mr. Mackenzie? You get your kicks from tailing people?” 

“I don’t have time for that, Thiago snapped back. 

Whitney’s internal alarms went off. ‘Yeah, whatever, she thought. She was done playing nice. 

She tried to slam the door, but Thiago wedged his foot in the gap and pushed his way in. The studio smelled faintly of roses. Thiago scowled. Whitney always used to love home fragrances. He couldn’t stand it–reminded him too much of her. So he’d made sure they got rid of all that stuff back at his place. 

Everyone got the message: He didn’t like anything that was hers around. 

Thiago’s attractive face turned frigid. “I have no time to waste with you, Whitney.” He took a check out of his pocket. “Go ahead, how much do you want? Is 150 thousand enough?” 

As Whitney looked at his smug face, she couldn’t help but question her past judgment. ‘Was I really that blind? And for years?‘ she wondered to herself. ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

“Wow, rolling in dough, are we? Thinking you can just buy me off?” Whitney said arms crossed, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Keep your charity for someone who cares, like Quincey.” 

Thiago’s face darkened. “Whitney Collins, I’m talking serious business here.” 

‘Serious business? As if we ever had that.‘ She had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. “If you’re going off the deep end. Thiago, you might wanna check yourself into a loony bin. I’m not the one who can fix crazy, Whitney said, keeping her cool as she opened the door wider, hinting him to take a hike. 

Thiago patiently explained for once, “It’s an investment in your studio. If you think it’s not enough, I can raise it.” 

“What’s the catch?” She’d never believe in anything that sounded too good to be true. 

“Give up the partnership with Indigox,” he stated, 

“Dream on!” Whitney refused without hesitation, her beautiful face cold and her voice harsh. “Who the hell do think you are, Thiago?” 

you 

“Your studio’s in financial difficulties. You’ll be swamped with legal notices by next Monday if you don’t find the cash, right?” Thiago said with a sneer, like he was better than her. “Get real, Whitney. In business, you gotta grab the good stuff and forget old flames.” 

Whitney couldn’t believe the gall of this guy. The nerve of him thinking I’m still hung up on him!‘ she fumed inside. “You investigated me?” she questioned. 

“Just say yes or no to the deal,” Thiago shot back, shoving the check in her direction again. The check was a cool 250 grand, with Thiago’s signature scrawled across it–bold and messy, just like the man himself. The problem was, Whitney came from the Greene family, and to her, money was just paper. 

Ever since her studio hit a rough patch, her family had been on her case to take their money, but Whitney had her pride. She needed to see if she could ride out the storm without bailouts. Plus, the whole cash crunch was just because she’d bet big on a hotshot new designer, leaving the studio’s wallet a little thin–that’s all. 

A deal with Indigox would fix everything soon enough. But Thiago’s help? As if she mused, giving him a once–over. He was all dolled up in a fancy velvet suit, looking every inch the big shot he thought he was. His green eyes were 

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colder and haughtier than ever. 

She smiled, “No thanks.” 

Thiago had seen this coming. He gritted his teeth, getting infuriated. “250 thousand still isn’t enough? Whitney, I’m only offering you the money because of our history. One mustn’t be too greedy” 

Typical rich–kid talk. First, he acts like Mr. Generous, then flips it on you, she thought. 

“Do I look desperate? Whitney snapped back, her voice rising. “I didn’t even want your money when we split, and I sure as hell don’t want it now.” 

“You” he started. 

“Get the hell out!” Whitney yelled. 

Thiago was seething. ‘She’s telling me to get out? She used to be so timid! Now she’s booting me out?‘ Blinded by anger, Thiago grabbed her wrist and cornered her, his grip like iron. “Let me give you one more chance,” he whispered, his breath grazing her neck. Just drop the partnership and I-” 

Smack! 

Her palm met his check with a stinging slap that made his head turn. He loosened his grip, and Whitney bolted, putting some 30 feet between them. 

“I’ll give you ten seconds. If you don’t leave, I’m calling the cops.” She picked up the check, crumpled it into a ball of paper, and accurately threw it at Thiago’s forehead. “Remember to take your trash with you.” 

“Trash?‘ he scoffed on the inside. “250 thousand dollars is trash in her eyes. Then what about me? Even Thiago was taken aback by this abrupt thought, but he didn’t dwell on it. 

His ego bruised, Thiago stood there, smirking at the crumpled check. “I don’t buy that you’re over me, Whitney.” 

“Trust me, I am,” Whitney said, rolling her eyes. “You’ve been dead to me for a year. Now scram, will you?” 

Thiago was livid. She had spoken so harshly that no one could possibly tolerate it, much less someone as proud as him. When Whitney counted to three, Thiago suddenly turned and slammed the door behind him, allowing the studio to regain its silence. 

Whitney breathed a sigh of relief after opening the curtains and seeing the Bentley drive off. She had to admit, he wasn’t talking completely out of his mind. For the past year, she’d dodged any clashes with Mackenzie Corp, not wanting personal beef to mess with her business. But now the chickens had come home to roost. 

She understood Thiago. He was noted for his aggressive means in the industry. Now that they were both eyeing the partnership with Indigox and she’d turned his deal down, Thiago might set a ton of hurdles for her to snatch it away. 

And in a game of corporate chess, she was no match for his underhanded moves. Thinking about the possible fallout gave Whitney the mother of all headaches.