Divorce A Billionaire To Marry Him Novels & Stories

My husband, Clement Norman, promised to make up for our missed honeymoon. It was five years late, but I was still excited. I got ready and really looked forward to it. But right before we boarded the plane, I realized there was someone extra in our group—Clement's childhood friend, Madison Bowen. He explained half-heartedly, "Madison's never been abroad before. I figured we could bring her along." I wasn't thrilled, but when I spoke up, he made it sound like I was being dramatic. "Are you jealous of our relationship because you didn't grow up with a proper family? I see her as a sister. You wouldn't get it—you grew up an orphan." I chose to stay quiet, not wanting to ruin our honeymoon. But we encountered an avalanche halfway through the trip. My leg got stuck deep in the snow, and I couldn't move. And the first thing Clement did was grab Madison's hand and run. He didn't even look back.

“I, Chika Whitmore, take this Alpha to be my strength and my vengeance.” The words were a death warrant, not a vow. In the high-stakes world of the werewolf syndicates, loyalty is a myth and blood is the only currency. When Chika Whitmore is brutally abandoned at the altar by the Blackwell heir, he doesn’t just lose a husband—he loses his standing in the underworld. Cast out by his own bloodline and left to the mercy of the city’s predators, Chika does the unthinkable. He walks into the territory of the most feared man in the modern mafia: Lucien Afolayan. Lucien is a King in exile, a dominant Alpha whose legs were shattered by a rival’s silver-trap. The world thinks he’s a broken dog, but behind the reinforced steel of his throne, the beast is hungry. He needs a consort to secure his claim to the Obsidian Crown Plaza; Chika needs a monster to burn down the people who broke him. It was supposed to be a cold-blooded merger. No feelings, no touch, just a tactical alliance to survive the Blackwell Pack’s impending war. But in the dark corners of the Afolayan estate, the scent of the moon doesn’t lie. Between the click of loaded pistols and the roar of shifting wolves, a lethal attraction begins to take root. Chika came for protection, but he might have just tied his soul to a man who won’t stop until the entire city bows—or burns. In this game of power, the only thing more dangerous than an enemy’s silver is a mate’s betrayal.

My husband has stepped out on me countless times, but he refused to divorce me. Meanwhile, his family called me a disgraceful tramp. Five years ago was the first time I asked for a divorce. Terrence Fulton did not say anything. He locked me up in the villa for a whole month instead. After that month, I found out that I was pregnant. Three years after that, I asked for a divorce for a second time. That very night, Terrence returned to his family home at Fulton Manor. After that, I was allowed to see my son only once a week. Today was my third attempt to get a divorce, and I could finally leave. I discovered that my son did not love me and that my marriage to Terrence had been fake all along. I was just like one of the women he messed around with.

I never thought my last name would cost me my freedom. One scandal. One signature. And now I’m married to a man colder than the vows we exchanged. Koven Elrik Mavros doesn’t believe in love. He believes in control, contracts, and consequences. And I just happened to be the loophole he needed. But I’m not the kind of woman who bows. I bite back even when it hurts. Now, we’re trapped in a marriage meant to break us. But the more he pushes, the more I see the cracks in his armor. This was supposed to end in divorce. So why does it feel like everything's just beginning?

On our third wedding anniversary, I brought a gift to my husband’s office. Walking past the secretary's suite, I stopped dead. A king-size bed had been set up inside. A young woman in a designer dress was sprawled across it, a handheld game console in her hands, surrounded by imported snacks of every variety. "Kevin, the lunch you ordered yesterday was pre-packaged meals. Marcus and I both felt sick after eating it. Today, make sure it's from The Palace Hotel." Kevin -- my husband's personal assistant -- bowed and scraped before her, his face a mask of obsequious flattery. "Mrs. Thorne, please don't worry. Mr. Thorne made it very clear -- everything should be tailored to your preferences and the baby's. He knows you love the chef at The Palace Hotel, so he set up a standing VIP account for you. Anything you want, anytime." She was Mrs. Thorne? Then what exactly was I? My brow furrowed. I glanced down at the wedding ring I'd worn for years. The girl beamed, radiant. "For the baby's arrival, my husband is throwing a lavish yacht party. Every important person in New York is getting an invitation. I want the whole world to know that I'm the love of his life, and that our son will be blessed by the most powerful people before he's even born. The champagne and flowers must be the finest available -- no budget limit. Our child is going to have the best of everything from day one." I stared at the gentle swell of her belly and called my father. "Dad, that divorce agreement you drew up three years ago -- you can have the lawyers send it over now."

To prepare for a baby, my wife, Daphne Sinclair, suggested we start working out together and keep each other accountable by tracking our daily step counts. While I was away on a two-week business trip, she ranked first on our Fitbit leaderboard every single night. Then one day, my neighbor suddenly sent me a video. The location tag showed it was filmed right in the parking lot beneath my apartment. "Bro, impressive. Your wife's even hired a personal trainer for her workouts now? That Maybach suspension really hits different." In the video, a pink sports bra I had never seen before hung from the driver’s side window. The car rocked rhythmically, accompanied by Daphne's restrained yet excited breathing. I dialed her number. "Where are you?" Her voice turned soft and coy. "On the treadmill, sprinting. Honey, I'm working so hard for our baby." "Really?" I chuckled. "You've worked so hard the entire neighborhood knows about it." Holding the phone, I said slowly, word by word, "Open the door. I'm bringing you a towel."

On the very night Finn Chapman's first love got divorced, he threw the ninety-ninth divorce agreement at me. "Lisa's heart is broken. She can't move on. I have to take care of her," he said. Even our seven-year-old son tried to persuade me. "You should just agree to the divorce and leave," he told me. "Let Lisa move in. We don't need a maid like you anymore." Both father and son were certain I'd scream, cry, beg them not to throw me out. But I didn't. I simply nodded, quietly signed my name on the divorce papers, and left. Ten years later, my son became the top scorer on the SATs. During an interview, a reporter asked him, "What has motivated you to study so hard all these years?" He went silent for a moment. Then, in front of everyone, his eyes turned red. "Because I wanted to tell my mom," he said, voice trembling, "I've grown up now. Will you come back? Please don't leave me again."

“Do I want a taste?” his voice deeper than he had ever spoken. His eyes pinned on me like I was the only thing that fascinated him. “What do I do?” I thought to myself as he moved closer to me, I wanted to run away, to resist him but I was pinned to the wall by him. “Gosh I hate this man so much” his scent, his body, his beautiful green eyes, he was driving me crazy. I know this is wrong, he has a fiancee and all but that makes me want him even more. “Get on the bed and spread your legs” his cold voice woke me up and then I remembered I was just a maid to him. “Yes master”.

It all started on the night of Kassady's signed a contract, thinking it was a business contract, not knowing she'd just signed a contract to be the wife of Davies Markson a billionaire tycoon. What happened when Kassady got the shock of her life after finding out about the type of contract she signed. What worsen the issue was the fact that Davies didn't want to get married to her either, and all this was planned by her Dad and Davies parents. They wanted Davies to get married as soon as possible inorder to take over the company. Even at this Davies refused to get married to, he loved how free his life was, and how to get to sex bitches whenever he wants. Davies finally agreed to get married to her after he was threatened by his Dad that he'll hand over the company to his cousin brother. Though he made his own contract with her, stating that they'll divorce after one year, which Kassady agreed to, she knew within the span of one year they'll both achieve what the wants. After the marriage what happens when Kassady found herself falling in love with Davies who was busy fucking and flirting around with someone else. She finally made a decision, maybe giving him her body and her whole sef would make him fall in love with her. That was indeed a rash decision she made. Would Davies finally get to love her? Is it a tragic ending or a happy ending?

My wife’s new assistant recently celebrated his birthday, and she splurged on a villa as a gift to him. On the day he moved in, the assistant, Zachary Shaw, bragged on Instagram with a post and captioned: [Bagged myself a sugar mommy, just FYI.] My wife, Ivy Bennett, commented on the post: [Happy birthday, my dear Zacky! 🫰] The photo was Zachary wrapping his arm around my wife’s slender waist, looking incredibly intimate. The work group chat blew up at once. Everyone expressed their envy toward Zachary, singing his praises for being so promising at such a young age. Then, my childhood friend, Autumn Sinclair, tagged me in the group chat and teased, [Love is a blinding green light. Your wife’s cheating on you so hard it glows. Congrats, Julian!] I smiled wryly and stubbed out my cigarette. Slowly, I typed my reply, [Want a house, Autumn? I’ll get you one too, better than her gift to him.]