Divorced, Now A Billionaire's Desire

VALERIA

Renata leaned casually against the locker, her gaze fixed on me as I peeled off my gym instructor attire. Her expression carried that familiar mix of excitement and insistence as she watched me fold my things into my bag. “You will be at my birthday party, right?” she asked, her voice soft but hopeful in a way that already suggested she expected a yes.

When I did not answer quickly enough, she stepped closer, tilting her head as if proximity alone could change my mind. “You are coming, aren’t you?”

I gave a slow, apologetic shake of my head and turned fully toward her, forcing a gentle smile that did not quite match how tired I felt inside. “I am really sorry, Renata, but I have to cook dinner and take it to Emiliano at his office,” I explained.

Her brows pulled together immediately, disappointment settling across her face like a shadow she could not hide. She already knew how this went, yet she still hoped I would choose differently.

“Valeria,” she said, her tone tightening with frustration, “you know how much he dislikes eating out, and he has been working late almost every night.”

I adjusted my bag strap, trying to sound lighter than I felt. “That is just how things are right now. His business needs him.”

Renata exhaled sharply, clearly unconvinced. “Why do you revolve your entire life around your husband?” she asked, irritation slipping through her voice. “You do not hang out anymore, you avoid making friends, you even act careful around men just so you do not upset him, and yet he barely seems to notice all the effort you put in.”

“He does make an effort,” I said quickly, almost defensively, even though I was not entirely sure I believed my own words anymore.

“You mean he used to,” she corrected, rolling her eyes slightly, and I let out a small laugh that came out more uncertain than amused.

Because the truth was not completely lost on me. Emiliano Navarro Reyes had once been attentive in a way that made me feel chosen every single day, but lately his attention had been swallowed whole by work, meetings, and a silence that stretched longer than it should between two people who shared a home. Still, I kept telling myself it was temporary, that success demanded sacrifice, and that once things stabilized, he would come back to me the way he used to be.

We walked toward her car together, the late afternoon air warm against my skin. “Since he will not be home tonight, what if I come with you?” Renata suggested suddenly. “We can cook dinner together, drop it off at his office, and then go get ready for my party.”

I hesitated, exhaustion pressing at the back of my mind. “I have had a long day, Renata, I am not sure I have the energy for all of that.”

Before I could finish properly, she grabbed my hand, her eyes softening in a way that made refusal feel heavier than I wanted it to. “Please, Valeria. How can I celebrate my birthday without my best friend there with me?”

I sighed, giving in the way I usually did when she looked at me like that. “Fine,” I agreed quietly.

Her face lit up instantly, and she practically danced toward the car like she had just won something important. Together, we went home, where she insisted on helping me prepare the meal, filling the kitchen with her energy while I tried to keep up with her pace.

When the food was ready, she insisted we take it straight to Emiliano’s office.

By the time we pulled into the parking lot of his real estate company, my phone buzzed repeatedly in my bag. I frowned slightly, pulling it out and seeing his name flash across the screen.

“Hello, I was just about to—” I started, answering quickly.

His voice cut in immediately, sharp and distant. “Do not bother bringing food tonight,” Emiliano said, his tone clipped. “I am preparing for an important meeting in thirty minutes and I cannot afford any distractions, not even from you.”

I paused, blinking slowly. “You have a meeting in thirty minutes?” I asked for clarity.

“Yes,” he replied shortly.

“Alright,” I said softly, ending the call as I exhaled and turned toward Renata. “He says I should not come in. He is getting ready for a meeting.”

Still, I did not turn back. I had already spent hours preparing the food, and I was already here, so I decided to at least drop it off properly.

Inside the office, I walked past a few employees who glanced at me briefly before returning to their work. Emiliano’s secretary stood up quickly when she saw me, looking startled.

“Mrs. Reyes?” she said, rushing around her desk. “Does Mr. Reyes know you are here?”

I did not answer her directly. I simply walked past her and pushed the door open.

The moment I stepped inside, everything in me froze.

Emiliano was there, seated in his chair, but he was not alone. A woman was on his lap, her arms loosely around his shoulders, their lips locked in a kiss that made the air feel suddenly too heavy to breathe.

My fingers tightened around the food bag until the plastic crinkled loudly in the silence that followed.

For a moment, I honestly thought my mind was refusing to accept what my eyes were seeing. I even blinked once, twice, as if that would change anything.

It did not.

“What is going on here?” I finally shouted, my voice breaking through the room as my throat tightened painfully.

They pulled apart abruptly. Emiliano shifted, creating space between them, but the woman stayed seated as if she belonged there, her expression unbothered, almost entertained.

I looked directly at her, my voice steadying only because I forced it to. “Are you going to get off his lap, or do I need to do it myself?”

She rolled her eyes slowly, as though I was the inconvenience in the room, and only then did she stand up with exaggerated laziness, adjusting her clothes like she had all the time in the world.

“I thought we had the night to ourselves,” she said casually, glancing at Emiliano as if I was not even fully present.

That sentence landed harder than anything else.

I turned my attention back to him, my chest rising with disbelief and anger. “So this is your meeting?” I asked, my voice shaking. “This is what you meant by thirty minutes?”

Emiliano ran a hand through his hair, avoiding my eyes as he struggled to button his shirt. “Let us talk at home,” he said quietly, almost pleading.

Something inside me snapped at that moment.

“Forget you, Emiliano,” I said, my voice sharp and filled with everything I had been swallowing for too long.

His eyes finally met mine, frowning now as if I was the one causing chaos. “Valeria, just leave. Do not make a scene. We will talk later.”

A bitter laugh escaped me, raw and unfiltered. “You cheated on me with another woman, and I am the one who has to leave?” I asked, my voice rising as my hands trembled.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as the reality of what I had just witnessed refused to soften in my mind, no matter how much I wished it would disappear. The image of Emiliano sitting there with another woman still burned behind my eyes, sharp and humiliating, like something carved into my memory that I could not erase no matter how tightly I closed my eyes.

“How… how could you…” I stammered, my voice breaking apart as I struggled to form words that made sense of the pain tightening in my chest. My mind felt suspended somewhere between disbelief and collapse, as if accepting the truth would finally break something inside me that I would never get back.

“Just go home, Valeria,” Emiliano said with a tired sigh, as though I was the one disturbing his peace instead of the one whose entire world had just cracked open in front of him.

Something inside me snapped at that moment, something raw and uncontrollable that turned grief into rage. Without thinking, I hurled the takeout container at him, watching as it struck his chest and burst open, spilling its contents across his shirt in a messy stain of everything I had prepared with care and love that no longer meant anything here.

“Are you going to do something about her or not?” Camila hissed sharply, her voice cutting through the tension like she was the one being inconvenienced. Her expression was filled with irritation, as if my pain was nothing more than noise interrupting her comfort. “All this yelling is giving me a headache. Either she leaves, or I do.”

My hands trembled as I stood there, my posture stiff with disbelief and humiliation, waiting for him to say something that would undo what I had just seen. I gave him the chance, silently begging in the only way I knew how without words, and to my devastation, Emiliano chose her without hesitation. That single choice landed heavier than anything else in the room, heavier than betrayal itself, because it confirmed what I did not want to accept.

I stood there frozen as he motioned for his secretary, Paola, to escort me out of the building, as though I had become an inconvenience to be removed rather than the woman he had once promised everything to.

A hollow scoff escaped my lips as I wiped my tears roughly, refusing to let them fall freely in front of him any longer. “What have I been doing with you all these years?” I whispered, though the question was never meant for him to answer.

I did not even know what hurt more, the fact that he had cheated, the fact that he showed no remorse, or the fact that he had so easily chosen another woman over me as though I had never mattered in the first place.

“Are you deaf?” Emiliano snapped at Paola when she hesitated, his impatience sharp and unkind.

But I was not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me dragged out like I meant nothing. I straightened my shoulders, my voice colder than I felt inside, and refused the escort myself before turning and walking out on my own, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Outside the building, Renata noticed immediately that something was wrong. She stepped out of the car quickly and rushed toward me, her expression shifting the moment she saw my face.

“Valeria, what happened?” she asked softly, her voice already trembling with concern.

I could not speak. The words would not come out. My legs gave out beneath me, and I sank to the ground as tears spilled out uncontrollably, my hands clutching my chest as if I could physically hold the pain in place.

Renata knelt beside me in shock before pulling me into her arms, holding me tightly as my sobs shook my entire body. “You are scaring me,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she tried to steady me.

“Emiliano… he is cheating on me,” I cried into her shoulder, my words soaked in pain and humiliation. “He had the nerve to walk me out while she was still in there with him.”

Her body tensed instantly, anger flashing through her eyes, but she kept her voice gentle for my sake. “I always knew something was wrong with him,” she muttered under her breath, stroking my hair as she held me. “Come with me tonight. You should not be alone.”

A bitter laugh escaped me through my tears. “How am I supposed to celebrate anything right now?”

She wiped my face gently with her thumb, forcing me to look at her. “He does not get to control how you feel anymore.”

And maybe she was right, even if I was not ready to believe it yet.

Later that night, I sat at the party Renata insisted on taking me to, but nothing around me felt real. The music, the laughter, the lights all blurred into something distant and meaningless while my thoughts kept dragging me back to that office, to that kiss, to the moment my marriage ended without warning.

We had only been married for two years, and still it felt like everything we built had been nothing more than an illusion he had been ready to destroy at any moment. The promises, the vows, the belief that he would stay faithful forever now felt like words I had been foolish enough to trust.

I sighed heavily, pushing the drink away and forcing myself to stand. “I am going to sleep in your room tonight,” I told Renata, exhaustion weighing down every part of me.

She looked at me with quiet worry. “Are you going to be okay?”

I gave a small shake of my head. “No. But I will survive it.”

Upstairs, I ignored the noise from the party and the attention of people who did not matter to me in that moment. I reached her room, found the sleeping pills she mentioned, and swallowed them with the hope that for a few hours at least, my mind would stop replaying everything I could not escape.

When I finally lay down in bed, I closed my eyes and prayed for sleep to take me somewhere far away from the pain that had decided to stay.