Winning Back His Ex's Wife's Broken Heart by Hayley

Chapter 11

Richard

pov.

Susan walked into the penthouse like she owned the place. Her heels made sharp clicks on the marble floor, echoing through the quiet room. She stopped in the middle of the living room, hands on her hips, eyes scanning every corner.

I stood back, leaning against the doorway, watching her take charge. She was like a force of nature, and I liked it. No hesitation. No second-guessing. Susan was strong, confident, and every bit the woman I had always wanted by my side. No pretense, no forced affection. Just her, raw and real. "This place needs a makeover," she declared, her eyes sweeping over the furniture. "It still smells like her."

I watched as she called for the servants. They came rushing in, looking nervous. Susan was already pointing out things she didn't like.

"Get rid of that sofa," she snapped. "And that painting-trash it. It's ugly."

She moved through the room like a storm, ordering everyone around. Something was exciting about how she took charge.

Sarah never did that. She was always too timid, too soft.

"Richard," Susan called, waving me over. "Can you believe she kept this old vase?" She pointed to a small, ceramic vase sitting on a shelf. "It's hideous."

I shrugged. "I never really noticed it."

"Well, I did," Susan sneered. "It's going in the trash." She looked at the servants. "What are you waiting for? Throw it out!"

The housekeeper, Mrs. Turner hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking to me for direction.

"Do as she says," I told her, keeping my voice firm.

Mrs. Turner nodded and quickly moved to remove the vase. Susan kept looking around, like a general surveying her territory.

"This place needs an overhaul," she muttered. "I mean, seriously, who decorated this place? It's so... bland."

I knew who she meant. Sarah. But I didn't say anything. Susan didn't need to hear the name to know who we were talking about.

the doorway, holding the vase. "By tonight, I want everything that belonged to her out of here. Understand?" Mrs. Turner

of emotions. On one hand, I was glad Susan was taking

other, there was this... nagging feeling. Something I couldn't

it off. This was what I wanted-a clean slate, a

with this?" Susan asked, turning to

replied, forcing a smile.

answer. "Well, someone has to. This place needs a

never held back her opinions. She

who always tiptoed around, trying not to upset

on a painting hanging in the hallway. "And that," she said, pointing at

had picked out. She said it reminded her of

me, it was just another piece of

continued, "I don't care. Just get

remove the painting. I watched them work, feeling that strange twinge

name. I brushed it aside. This

didn't hold back, the woman who made decisions

mine, leaning in close. "We're going to make this place ours," she said,

her enthusiasm. "Exactly.

man. Now, let's talk about redecorating. This place is going to look like it belongs to us, not... you know." We moved into the dining room, where Susan had already

dove into her vision of the

a while, I felt relieved. This was what I thought I needed. A

week later, the penthouse was barely

repainted in bold colors that Susan chose, and the

It was all cold, sharp lines now. It was exactly how Susan wanted it. Susan was out for a spa day when Martin came by. I had barely closed the door

it off.

the stuff that made this place feel

picked up a glass from the bar and

over the rim. "So, Susan's been busy,

ours," I said, my voice firm. "I like that she knows what she

head slightly, looking down into his drink. "Sure, but it's... fast, don't you think? You changed everything in