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After The Divorce, She Became The Nation’s Sweetheart

After The Divorce, She Became The Nation’s Sweetheart

Romance
last updateปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2026-02-01
โดย:  H.Kยังไม่จบ
ภาษา: English
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สแกนรหัสเพื่ออ่านบนแอป

คำโปรย

Contemporary

Actor / Actress

CEO

Heir/Heirness

Contract Marriage

Flash Marriage

Second Chance

Everyone thought Isabelle Monroe was just a washed-up actress clinging to a loveless marriage. Her husband cheated. Her own son called the other woman “Mommy.” Still, she smiled through it all, desperately trying to fix her perfect family. Until the day both her husband and son told her she was a nuisance and they didn’t want her anymore. Thrown out of her own home, humiliated and replaced, Isabelle walks away with nothing but her pride. But just when the world erased her name, he appeared. Riven Thorne, a powerful, enigmatic and far too familiar man offers her comfort, a contract, and a cold little girl who won’t speak to anyone but her. He gives Isabelle another chance. Not just at motherhood... but at revenge, fame, and love. Now she’s back on screen, headlines are begging for her name, and the same people who mocked her are clawing to be on her side. She tells herself it’s all pretend… The husband. The marriage. But then… Her new daughter clings to her hand. Her son cries and calls her “Mommy” again. And her fake husband starts feeling all too real. Isabelle starts to wonder— Is this fate’s way of rewriting her story?

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Veertje
Veertje
Hi H.K. how often do/will/can you update ? This is really a good book so i hope you won't "abandoned" this story ...
2025-12-23 03:09:43
0
1
SIRIS
SIRIS
more chapters..
2025-12-08 18:28:32
0
0
Veertje
Veertje
72 chapters 10 Nov. 2025
2025-11-11 03:54:38
1
0
Christine Owings
Christine Owings
27 chapters 9/8/25
2025-09-08 13:31:17
0
0
Veertje
Veertje
The introduction (is it called that way?) sounds good. But before i start reading it i have a question. Do you already know how many chapters this book will have?
2025-08-31 06:25:07
3
3
108
Chapter One
The kitchen was bathed in warm gold, morning sunlight slipping through the lace curtains and painting patterns on the tiled floor. The fridge hummed quietly, the only sound in an otherwise still house until:Clang!Ryan slammed his spoon into his cereal bowl, milk sloshing over the rim and pooling across the table.Isabelle flinched at the sink, fingers pausing in the foamy water. She quickly rinsed her hands, dried them on a napkin, and turned around.“Are you full, sweetheart?” she asked gently, her voice even.Ryan didn’t answer. He sat slouched in his chair, glaring at his soggy cereal as if it had personally offended him.Across from him, Gregory hid behind a newspaper. His tie was perfectly knotted, his briefcase leaning neatly at his feet, and not a single hair out of place. He flipped a page without looking up. Typical.Isabelle crossed the kitchen and moved the bowl aside. “Okay,” she said softly. “But you still need your supplements, baby.”She picked up a bright orange bot
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Chapter Two
Isabelle stood frozen, eyes locked on the woman across from her.Tiffany.She hadn’t seen her in years. Maybe, since shortly after the wedding. She had barely remembered someone like that existed. Yet here she was, standing by the coffee table like she belonged.Isabelle’s frown deepened. “What are you doing here?”Tiffany blinked, surprised; just for a moment. Then her lips curved slowly and deliberately.“I came for Ryan,” she said, voice light, like this was the most natural thing in the world.Isabelle didn’t soften. Her tone came sharper. “I gathered that. I asked why.”Tiffany didn’t answer. Just smiled again—no, smirked. A subtle, upward curl that wasn’t warmth but provocation.It sent a chill down Isabelle’s spine.Miss Donna, standing awkwardly between them with her glasses halfway down her nose, glanced back and forth nervously.“Um…” she began. “We’ve only ever seen Miss Tiffany before. She’s the one who attended last year’s PTA and usually picks Ryan up.”Isabelle froze.
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Chapter Three
The voice wasn’t loud. But it slammed into the room like a stone into still water. Silence fell. Just then, the door opened sharply. Someone strode in, breath slightly short like they’d been rushing. It was Gregory. He looked flushed, suit slightly crooked like he’d run out of a meeting. He must’ve come in a hurry. A few parents glanced at him but quickly looked away. Their attention stayed locked on the man at the center of the room. Tiffany’s face lit up when she saw him, a slow smile stretching across her lips. But Isabelle stood stiffly, her gaze sharp as glass as she stared at him. Gregory hesitated, unsure where to go. His eyes flicked between the two women briefly and then he stepped forward, choosing to stand beside Isabelle. Tiffany’s smile faltered. Isabelle exhaled quietly as she folded her arms, her cold gaze softening, just barely. Gregory leaned in and whispered, “What’s going on?” But before she could speak, Aimee’s guardian did. His voice was ev
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Chapter Four
The light in the kitchen was dim when Isabelle walked in. It was evening and Greg had just gotten home. She’d waited until Ryan was tucked in bed, and the house had gone still. Then she’d chosen the farthest place from his room, so he wouldn’t hear what came next. She stood near the kitchen archway, arms folded tightly across her chest. Gregory walked in a moment later, moving straight to the fridge for a bottle of water. She didn’t yell. But something in the air had changed; taut like a string pulled too tight. One wrong move and it would snap. Gregory took a few gulps, capped the bottle, and tugged off his tie. His other hand fished in his pocket for his keys. His phone buzzed faintly but he didn’t check it. “Why did Tiffany call herself Ryan’s mother?” Gregory blinked, not fully looking at her. “What?” “At the school today,” Isabelle said, slowly. “She arrived there the same time I did. The teachers thought she was his mother.” Gregory let out a sigh. Not one of guilt, bu
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Chapter Five
The house was still. Only the faint hum of the dryer rumbled in the background, paired with the steady tick of the ornate wall clock — one of the few gifts Gregory’s parents had ever picked out for them. Isabelle sat at the edge of the couch, a laundry basket beside her, phone pressed to her ear. “I swear, these new girls are all gloss and glitter but no gut. No fire. Just followers.” A chirpy voice exploded through the phone speaker. “Remember when we used to shut down entire rooms just with your walk? You could turn a Vogue intern into a puddle without saying a word.” A smile slowly crept onto Isabelle’s lips. The voice belonged to Camille, her ex-manager. Though Isabelle had left the spotlight six years ago, Camille still called often. Mostly to check in. Mostly to pester her back into the game. “Still dramatic, I see,” Isabelle said, voice quiet but fond. “Please. I was born for drama.” Camille’s tone dipped, gentler now. “You were it, Belle. The girls now don’t seem to get
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Chapter Six
The schoolyard was busy, but the classroom was empty. Parents milled around, chatting and children waited with bags slung over their shoulders. Ryan was nowhere in sight. A teacher packing lunch kits nearby glanced up as Isabelle approached. “Excuse me… I’m here for Ryan Torres?” “Oh! His grandfather’s driver picked him up earlier,” the teacher said kindly. “He’s gone already.” Isabelle froze. “…His grandfather?” The teacher nodded. Isabelle instantly pulled out her phone, fingers trembling from rage and dialed. One ring. Two. Three. Gregory answered with a voice that sounded like a man lounging in silk sheets. “Love. What’s wrong?” “Where are you?” She couldn’t help but ask. He sounded a bit confused but naturally replied, “At the office.” Isabelle released a breath of relief. Maybe, he was resting in the office lounge. “Is something wrong? Why did you call?” “We agreed I’d pick him up today,” she said tightly. There was a pause and then the soun
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Chapter Seven
TORRES ESTATE The house stood as it always had, pristine and silent. The kind of silence that did nothing but judge others. This was Gregory’s parents’ home.Isabelle stepped out of the car, a wicker basket balanced on her arm. Inside, the desserts she made still held its warmth, wrapped in foil. A quiet reminder that she was still trying to patch their shaky relationship.She had called Gregory on the drive over.“Are your parents home?” she asked.“Yeah,” Gregory said lazily. “They’ve been wanting to see Ryan lately. They’re probably home by now.”He didn’t ask why she called so she simply ended the call and kept driving.Now, she stood at the doorstep, pressing the bell.A moment later, the door opened and one of the maids led her into the lounge. Her mother in law, Marjorie Torres, dressed in cream linen with pearls at her throat, her posture as coldly perfect as ever sat on one of the sofas. Neither Ryan nor her father in law were anywhere in sight.The older woman looked up at
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Chapter Eight
The fabric of her dress tugged lightly as Isabelle bent down, one arm stretched toward a shelf of themed paper cups. She paused and turned to look.She had thought her dress got caught on one of the racks. But,what she saw instead made her blink.Aimee.The little girl stood there quietly, coat mint green, braids soft and uneven, and a single pink ribbon peeked from her coat pocket. She simply stood there without a single word.“…Sweetheart?” Isabelle’s voice dropped. She smiled instinctively, confused. “What are you doing here?”She looked around wondering who she was with. Then, she saw Riven standing in between the two aisles with hands in pockets. The mall lights cast a soft, almost surreal glow over him, like he had walked out of a frame that didn’t quite belong in this store.He stepped forward, voice even. “She saw you and pulled away before I could stop her.”Aimee gently clutched the side of Isabelle’s coat which she had pulled earlier silently.Isabelle looked down again, he
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Chapter Nine
The faint scent of cinnamon and vanilla lingered in the apartment. Isabelle moved quietly through the small space, her hands busy and with a big smile on her face as she adjusted the streamers in Ryan’s favorite shades of green and blue. A felt banner stretched across the wall above the table, hand-stitched, uneven in its lettering:“Happy Birthday, Sweetheart.”The table wasn’t grand. But it was warm. A sugar-free banana-oat muffin, just how he needed it, sat gently on a ceramic plate, a single beeswax candle resting at its center.She smiled to herself as she mixed a small dessert with his medicine. She couldn’t have him fainting and being traumatized on his own birthday, so to appease and excite him, she had mixed it with some dessert. Then, she called the boy over.He walked to her sluggishly, clearly not as excited as she was about it. Once he got to her, she prodded him to take a small spoon of it. Afterward, she kissed him on the forehead and whispered,“Happy birthday, baby. Y
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Ten
The air in the dining room froze with Isabelle’s scream. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then Riven’s chair scraped sharply against the marble floor. Before the shock could even register to everyone else, he was already by the boy’s side. He squatted on one knee; just in time for Isabelle to come to her senses and rush over as he pressed his palm over the boy’s small chest. “Ryan…” she gasped breathlessly. Riven looked up at her, regarding her expression as she stared at him hoping for him to say something good. “He’s breathing.” He muttered coolly a second later, drawing a breath of relief from Isabelle. Tiffany’s heels clicked once in his direction once she heard him speak. “What’s happening?” He didn’t look at her. One arm slid under Ryan’s knees, the other cradling his head, and he rose in one effortless motion. Isabelle’s breath caught as she stared, frantic and unable to do anything. Her son’s head lolled against Riven’s shoulder, his lips tinged a sickly pale. Her pulse r
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