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Get a Job, You Spoilt Brat!
publish date:
2026-06-30 19:16:36
Latest chapter
Divorced With His Heir In My Belly Work Must Be Done
The walk to the executive elevator felt like floating. I swiped my keycard, stepped into the glass-paneled cab, and pressed the button for the top floor. As the doors slid shut, cutting off the view of the lobby, a soft, genuine laugh finally escaped my lips. The universe had a remarkably brilliant sense of humor.The elevator shot upward, the numbers ticking past rapidly until it chimed softly at the executive penthouse level. The doors opened to a sprawling, silent floor covered in plush carpeting and surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Manhattan skyline.Tyler’s secretary, Evelyn, looked up from her desk as I approached. Her face immediately broke into a warm, relieved smile."Good morning, Sarah!" Evelyn beamed, practically glowing at the sight of me. "It is so good to see you. Mr. Rider is in his office. He’s expecting you.""Good morning, Evelyn. Thank you," I smiled back, walking past her desk and pushing open the heavy mahogany double doors of Tyler’s corner
Divorced With His Heir In My Belly You Work For Me Now.
[SARAH’S POV]I was too engrossed, mentally reviewing the talking points I needed to cover with Tyler on why my estate should supply him with the raw materials he would need to restart production. I wasn't paying attention to the staff behind the curved mahogany desk. As I adjusted the strap of my leather tote bag over my shoulder, my heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. I heard a sharp, exasperated sigh followed by the distinct sound of a stapler being slammed aggressively onto a desk."I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, Brenda. The printer is blinking red, which obviously means it is broken. No, I am not going to open the tray. My nails were done yesterday, and I am not getting toner on my cuticles. Call IT."My footsteps faltered. I stopped dead in my tracks, my brain struggling to process the auditory input. I knew that voice. I had heard that voice scream at me across country club terraces and screech through the grand halls of the Rider estate f
Divorced With His Heir In My Belly Get a Job, You Spoilt Brat!
[Tyler's POV]I didn't offer a greeting as I walked into my fathers study. I knew what the meeting was about immediately I got the text and I wasn't surprised when I saw Chloe already seated."Tyler," my father finally spoke, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated through the floorboards. "Take a seat.""I prefer to stand, Father. I don't plan on being here very long," I replied, leaning casually against the edge of the bookshelf, my glass perfectly balanced in my hand. "I assume this urgent family summit is regarding the sudden, tragic realization that my sister is going to have to learn how to set an alarm clock?"Chloe let out a sharp, offended gasp. "Father, do you hear him? Do you hear how he speaks to me?"Byron raised a single hand, and Chloe’s mouth instantly snapped shut. He set his cigar down on the edge of an emerald ashtray and folded his hands over his desk, his heavy gaze locking onto mine."Your sister came to me in a state of severe distress this afternoon," By
Divorced With His Heir In My Belly We Want Another Wedding
"I am happy, baby," I reassured him softly, smoothing down his hair. "I’m very happy." "No, I mean genuinely happy," Caleb pressed, his voice taking on a surprisingly mature, stubborn edge. "You are always, always putting everyone else’s happiness before yours. You worry about me, you worry about Leena, you worry about the vineyard, and Rosa, and the company. You fix everything for everyone. But I want you to just... be happy for yourself." I stared at him, completely bewildered. I blinked, my mind spinning as I tried to calculate how a nine-year-old boy had just accurately psychoanalyzed my entire trauma response and coping mechanism. Where on earth was this coming from? "Caleb..." I started, my voice laced with genuine confusion. "Where is all of this coming from? Have you been reading my self-help books?" Caleb didn't laugh. He looked at me with an absolute, deadly serious expression. "I know Daddy makes you happy," he said simply. The name dropped into the quiet room like a
Divorced With His Heir In My Belly I Want You To Be Happy Mom.
My entire body felt as though it had been drained of every last ounce of adrenaline. I stood in front of the vanity mirror in my bedroom, running a brush through my hair with slow, mechanical strokes. The faint, bruised purple shadows of exhaustion under my eyes were impossible to ignore, but the deep, grounding sense of peace settling into my chest made them bearable. We had won. The narrative was finally ours again.I set the brush down, turned off the heavy brass vanity lamp, and pulled the sash of my silk robe tight around my waist. The king-sized bed looked like an absolute sanctuary. I reached out to pull back the heavy down comforter, ready to sink into the mattress and let the dark completely consume me.Knock, knock.I paused, my hand hovering over the duvet. The knock was incredibly soft, so light I almost thought I had imagined it over the sound of the wind."Come in," I called out softly, turning toward the door.The brass knob clicked, and the heavy oak door slowly pushed
Divorced With His Heir In My Belly Leaving History Behind Us
Carrying the soup myself wasn't necessary. I could have easily let Rosa, or had one of the kitchen staff take it over. But after the confrontation with Skye in the living room, a strange, persistent restlessness had taken hold of me. I needed to see Vivian. No matter our history, she was dying. And as I looked at the quiet apartment ahead, I realized that the least I could do as a human being was show a sliver of compassion for a woman on the brink of eternity.I pushed the heavy oak door open without knocking, the quiet chime of the entry bell echoing through the dimly lit foyer. The guest house always smelled of a sharp, medicinal undertone cutting through the familiar scent of lavender.I walked down the short hallway and paused at the doorway of the master bedroom.The curtains were drawn tight, casting the room in a soft, amber twilight. Skye was sitting on the edge of the mattress, her back curved elegantly as she held a silver spoon to her mother’s lips. Vivian sat propped up
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