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What Am I, A Trash Can?
publish date:
2025-07-01 20:58:34
Latest chapter
The Wealthy Divorcee Healing Tensions
The sterile white walls of the Presbyterian Hospital's private wing felt more like a prison than a sanctuary. The scent of antiseptic and floor wax was sharp, a clinical reminder of the violence that had unfolded only hours prior. Jenna sat in a stiff, leather armchair pulled close to the bed, her eyes fixed on the rhythmic rise and fall of Daniel's chest. The heart monitor's beeping was the only sound in the room, a steady, mechanical pulse that felt far more reliable than the world outside.Daniel lay under a thin hospital sheet, his shoulder heavily bandaged where the high-caliber round had torn through muscle and bone. His face, usually an unreadable mask of stoic duty, was softened by the exhaustion of surgery and blood loss. He looked younger when he was asleep, less like the lethal weapon David had forged and more like a man who had nearly lost everything to keep a promise.Jenna's hands were clasped in her lap, her knuckles white. The guilt was a heavy, suffocating weight. She
The Wealthy Divorcee Bullet in the Crowd
The strobe lights of the Pierre Hotel ballroom had long since turned into a nauseating blur of white and crimson. Jenna stood frozen at the podium, the air in her lungs feeling like shards of glass. Alice Florence, the woman who had haunted her marriage, her business, and her very survival, stood only twenty feet away, camouflaged in the mundane grey of a press pool.The red laser dot was a steady, mocking eye on Jenna's chest. It didn't waver. It was the mark of a predator who had finally cornered its prey."Hello, Jenna," Alice's voice purred, amplified by the hot mic into a sound that felt like a serrated blade across the skin. "Did you miss me?"Before Jenna could even scream, the world fractured.CRACK.The gunshot was a physical blow, a thunderclap that shattered the high-society silence of the ballroom. For a heartbeat, the room was a tableau of absolute terror. Jenna felt a violent shove, the wind knocked out of her as a heavy, solid weight collided with her, sending her sprawl
The Wealthy Divorcee The Inescapable War
The air in the high-security bunker beneath the J&J temporary headquarters was thick with the scent of ozone and unuttered tension. Jenna Anderson stood before a wall of monitors, her reflection ghostly against the scrolling data of global trade routes and encrypted chatter. Her navy suit was crisp, masking the bruises that still throbbed along her ribs—a physical reminder of the explosion that had nearly claimed her life.Beside her, Special Agent Miller of the FBI adjusted his glasses, his face illuminated by the harsh blue light of the screens. "It's confirmed, Ms. Anderson," Miller said, his voice dropping an octave. "Alice Florence didn't just survive the fallout in Europe; she's metastasized. Our intelligence indicates she has successfully established a primary cell of her new syndicate right here on U.S. soil. They're calling it 'The Obsidian Crown.' It's a hybrid—half-corporate espionage, half-militant insurgency." Jenna didn't flinch, though a cold shiver traced her spine.
The Wealthy Divorcee Flames of Memory
The severed rose remained on Jenna’s desk long after the call ended.She did not throw it away.She did not move it.Because removing it would mean denying what it represented.And Jenna Hidalgo had never survived by denying reality.Only by confronting it.Morning arrived with unnatural brightness.As if the city itself had chosen to ignore the shadow tightening around her life.Black cars lined the street outside J&J headquarters.Royal insignias gleamed beneath the sun.Media swarmed like vultures sensing something historic.Inside, tension moved faster than whispers.“Is it true?”“The Crown is officially backing J&J?”“They say it’s more than business…”“They say she might become Queen.”Jenna stood at the edge of the executive floor, watching the arrival through reinforced glass.Her reflection stared back at her.Calm.Composed.Unshaken.But beneath it.A storm waited.The elevator doors opened.David stepped out.Not as a businessman.Not as an ally.But as a King.Every move
The Wealthy Divorcee Guarded Emotions
The scent of antiseptic still lingered in Jenna’s memory. Even now, standing at the glass entrance of J&J’s temporary headquarters, she could almost hear the steady rhythm of hospital monitors… the faint, fragile sound that had followed Rex’s breathing the night he collapsed in her arms. She had not stayed long. She had not allowed herself to. Because staying meant feeling. And feeling, right now, was a liability. So she stepped forward. Back into war.The moment Jenna entered the building, everything shifted. Conversations died mid-sentence. Heads turned. Eyes followed. Respect. Fear. Curiosity. And something sharper beneath it all, speculation. Jenna walked past them without pause, heels striking marble with quiet authority. Her expression remained composed, unreadable, distant. Untouchable. But she heard them. Of course she did. “Is that her?” “She was at the center of the explosion…” “They say the King himself moved security just for her.” “And Rex Hidalgo—did
The Wealthy Divorcee Rex’s Dark Night
Rain fell in relentless sheets, turning the city into a blurred constellation of fractured lights.Rex Hidalgo moved through it like a ghost.No escort. No convoy. No digital trail.Only instinct.For forty-eight hours, he had ceased to exist.Officially, he was unreachable. Unofficially… he was hunting.Adrian Vale’s capture had been merely the first thread. Rex had learned long ago that traitors rarely acted alone — betrayal was a chain, each link forged by desperation, greed, ambition, or fear.And Rex intended to break every single one.Beca
The Wealthy Divorcee Midnight Ambush
The red dot vanished as if it had never existed.Jenna froze.For a fraction of a second, her mind tried to rationalize it—light reflection, a trick of steam from the bathroom mirror, exhaustion playing cruel games. But instinct screamed louder than logic. The same instinct honed through years of d
Last Updated : 2026-04-04The Wealthy Divorcee David Branson’s Grand Arrival
The shockwave from David Branson's arrival did not begin at the doors.It started in the silence.The kind of silence that creeps into a room when power shifts—quiet, heavy, unavoidable.Jenna felt it before she saw him.She stood near the long windows of the executive conference hall, Manhattan st
Last Updated : 2026-04-04The Wealthy Divorcee King's Council
Morning arrived without mercy.Madrid woke beneath pale gold sunlight, but inside Jenna Anderson’s body, the night never truly ended.Every muscle protested as she stood before the tall mirror in the palace guest wing, carefully fastening the last button of her tailored navy suit. Bruises bloomed a
Last Updated : 2026-04-04The Wealthy Divorcee Royal Revelation
David Branson left without revealing anything.That was what the world saw.Black vehicles vanished into Manhattan traffic. Armed men disappeared. Sirens dissolved into the distance. By the time the glass doors of J&J headquarters stopped trembling, the moment already felt unreal—like a power surge
Last Updated : 2026-04-04
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