After Divorcing Me, He Went Broke!

“AH–!”

Sarah lay on the bed, her breathing uneven as she sought release during her ovulation days.

She was a wife, yet in moments when her desire reached its peak like this, the only thing that could bring her to orgasm was a vibrator.

After six years of marriage, she lived in a relationship without touch, without warmth, and without sex.

Every breath felt heavy, and every small movement made her body tense before falling into suffocating silence as she reached her climax.

Tears slipped down her cheeks without her realizing it, mixing with the cold sweat that hadn’t yet dried.

She stared blankly at the ceiling, a bitter laugh escaping her lips.

How ironic. So this was what it felt like to be the wife of a billionaire who had everything except love.

Slowly, Sarah pushed the vibrator aside and reached for her phone.

Her nightly routine was always the same: opening her second I*******m account just to check one profile—@Iam.mia.

A new story had just been posted. Mia was holding a bouquet of roses arranged with folded money, smiling softly at the camera with a caption that read, “Thank you, my love.”

Sarah bit her lip, staring at the screen for a long time.

Then her thumb moved to open the girl’s latest post on her feed. It turned out that today was Mia’s twenty-third birthday.

There were three photo slides. One of her with a cake and candles, one with her friends, and the last one that crushed Sarah’s chest from the inside.

Mia was holding the arm of a tall man in a white suit embroidered with gold on the cuffs.

Sarah recognized that shirt immediately. She had designed it herself. She had ordered the embroidery with her own hands.

And that man was Ronan Vexler—her husband.

Her gaze froze on the phone screen, her chest tightening as if a heavy stone pressed against her ribs.

She had known about the girl for a year, ever since that night when she saw her husband’s phone wallpaper—a young woman with long hair and a beautiful smile.

With a trembling voice, she had asked, “Who is she, Ronan?”

Without hesitation, Ronan had replied softly but firmly, “She’s my lover.”

His words had hit her like a cold slap. The world had stopped spinning.

Since that night, Sarah hadn’t been able to sleep without seeing the woman’s face in her mind. She began digging into who Mia was—a young influencer with a million followers, living a glamorous life in the spotlight.

Sarah looked at her reflection on the black screen of her phone—tired eyes, messy hair, and a smile that had vanished long ago.

She turned off the screen, placed the phone beside her pillow, and took a deep breath. Even her eyes had grown tired of crying.

Her name was Sarah Langford, the seventh granddaughter of the Langford noble family—an old bloodline known for its tradition that every daughter must marry a prince from another royal house and serve until death. It was a rule passed down through generations.

Since she was young, Sarah had known she didn’t want that life. She had watched her sisters smile in public while their hearts shattered in private.

She had seen how they dressed, spoke, and even breathed according to the rules of the royal families they had married into.

They looked like queens trapped in golden cages—beautiful, but never free.

Sarah didn’t want that kind of life. She wanted to break the cycle, even if it meant trading her noble blood for something else.

So when a marriage proposal came from the powerful Vexler family, she accepted. They weren’t royalty, but they had something more real than any crown—money and influence.

The Vexlers eagerly welcomed the idea. They were pleased to have a noble daughter-in-law who could elevate their social standing among the elite.

Ronan Vexler, their only son, became her husband.

They didn’t marry for love, but for purpose. Sarah wanted freedom from royal traditions, and Ronan wanted noble blood in his lineage.

For a while, their marriage had looked perfect.

Ronan was everything a woman could dream of, warm, polite, attentive. He gave her a mansion, vacations wherever she wished, and smiles that made her believe he truly loved her.

And so, she fell in love with him. Even now, she still did.

Sarah had thought that maybe this was the freedom she had longed for, a love that could bloom from an arranged marriage.

But everything changed after their daughter was born five years ago.

That day, Ronan looked at the baby in her arms with empty eyes. There was no joy. Only silence, coldness, and a distance that grew between them from that moment on.

He stopped touching her.

Stopped looking at her with warmth.

Stopped speaking to her except for things that truly mattered.

When she tried to ask what went wrong, that night turned into the worst argument of their marriage.

And in the middle of his anger, Ronan said the words that shattered everything.

“I never loved you, Sarah. I married you because I wanted noble blood in my family.”

“I only needed children from your womb.”

She had cried that night as she listened to his footsteps fading away and the door closing behind him.

From that night on, Sarah stopped hoping. All that remained was a marriage on paper, and memories rotting slowly alongside a love that had never been real.

A soft knock echoed from the bedroom door three times. It was the familiar signal of Hanosa, her oldest and most loyal maid.

Sarah took a deep breath before speaking. “Come in.”

The door opened gently, and Hanosa stepped inside, bowing politely.

“Madam, Sir Ronan has returned,” she said carefully.

Sarah remained lying in bed, the blanket pulled up to her chest.

He was home, after two weeks of absence.

Strangely, the news didn’t make her heart race like it once did. There was only numbness and a faint bitterness.

“Is he alone?” she asked flatly, without looking at her maid.

“Yes, Madam,” Hanosa replied quickly. “And Sir Ronan said he wants to speak with you. He asked when he may come into your room.”