Lahat ng Kabanata ng He Divorced Me, I Marry A Bigger Billionaire!: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

Aaliyah's POV The kitchen smelled of vanilla and cinnamon with Henry’s favorite blueberry muffins cooling on the counter. It’s our anniversary, a day after his birthday, and my heart ached from the scene I witnessed—Henry kissing that woman, vowing to divorce me. I should’ve confronted him last night, I know. But I couldn’t, not with his icy glare silencing me. So instead, I baked, pouring my pain into batter, clinging to the hope that he’s still the man who loved me. I smoothed my dress, a soft blue that matches my eyes, and checked my reflection in the hallway mirror. My long blonde hair is pinned up. The front door slammed opened while I still stood in front of the mirror and my heart lurched. I was scared and prayed a silent prayer in my heart. Henry’s voice, low and clipped, echoed from the foyer. “Aaliyah, we need to talk.” I rushed down stairs forcing a smile, but it immediately faltered when I saw him. He stood at the doorway, his dark brown hair was tousled a

Aaliyah's POV The club throbbed with neon lights and bass that shook my bones. I leaned against the bar, a half-empty whiskey glass in my hand, the burn in my throat the only thing tethering me to reality. The pregnancy test from this morning haunted me—positive, undeniable, a life I hadn’t planned. I’d come here to escape, to drown the panic in music and strangers. My head was fuzzy, the liquor hitting harder than usual, but I didn’t care. I needed to forget. The dance floor was a sea of bodies, and I swayed, my black, short dress clinging to me, my blonde hair loose and wild. I’d always been the controlled one, the planner, but tonight, I was unraveling, I wanted to be free. The DJ shouted, and the crowd roared. I laughed, bitter and reckless, and climbed onto the stage, my heels wobbling. The spotlight hit me, and I danced, letting the rhythm take over. My arms swayed, my hips moved, and for a moment, I wasn’t Aaliyah Monroe, the orphan, the abandoned daughter, the sister

Orrin’s POVThe moment Aaliyah’s knees buckled in that club, my arms were there to catch her. Her body slumped against me, warm and soft, her blonde hair spilling over my shoulder like a cascade of sunlight. The neon lights flickered across her face, her lips parted slightly, and damn, she was beautiful—even passed out drunk. I couldn’t help but stare. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she mumbled something incoherent, her breath warm against my chest. Cute. Too cute for a woman who’d just danced like she was setting the world on fire. I chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re trouble, aren’t you?” I muttered, knowing she couldn’t hear me.The club was still pulsing, bodies swaying, but I was done with it. No way was I leaving her here, not like this. I scooped her up, her weight light but solid, and carried her through the crowd. People stared, but I didn’t care. My driver, Paul, was waiting outside, and his eyebrows shot up when he saw me with a sleeping woman in

Aaliyah’s POVI sank onto my couch, the dim glow of my apartment’s lamp casting shadows on the walls. My red dress was still on, the fabric clinging to me like a reminder of the night at Le Bernardin. Orrin’s voice echoed in my head—and that grin of his, all mischief and charm, made my cheeks warm even now. I kicked off my heels, curling my legs under me. The dinner had been… fun. Too fun. His teasing, the way he’d leaned in, those gray eyes locking onto mine like he saw right through me—it stirred something I wasn’t ready for. I shook my head, trying to shake off the memory. My phone buzzed on the coffee table, Lisa’s name lighting up the screen. I answered, already bracing for her energy. “Hey, Lisa.”“Back from Le Bernadine? How was it?”I sighed, “ you won't believe this. Orrin tricked me into a date with him.”“Girl, you better spill!” she practically shouted, her voice crackling with excitement. “You were at Le Bernardin with Mr. Billionaire, looking like a goddess in that

Orrin’s POVThe night at Le Bernardin replayed in my head like a damn movie as I stepped out into the cool Manhattan air. Aaliyah’s red dress, the way her blue eyes sparked when she called me out, that half-smile she tried to hide when I teased her—firecracker. I’d offered to drive her home, practically begged to make sure she got there safe, but she’d shut me down with a sharp, “I’m fine, Orrin. I’ll take a cab.” Stubborn as hell.And I couldn’t help but grin as her taxi pulled away, her silhouette fading into the city lights. She was something else, and I was in way too deep.I was about to my car when a familiar voice called out, “Orrin, you sneaking off without me?” I turned to see Lila Voss, my sister, striding toward me, her brunette curls bouncing, her smile all mischief. The paparazzi were already circling like vultures, their cameras flashing, but Lila didn’t care. She threw her arms around me, and I hugged her back, laughing.“Lila, what are you doing here?” I asked, pu