Novel & Cerita Divorce Heiress

I wanted to tear her apart. Sage tutted, clicking her tongue as she sauntered over to me, her face inches from mine. "Can't bear to hear anything about your beloved wife, hmm?" she whispered, her voice dripping with venom. "How about this, Ryder…Why don't you just divorce her? You sign the papers, I kill her, and then…" She trailed her fingers down my chest, and my stomach churned with disgust. "Then you and I can get married. Happy ending, right?"

“We’re in our house, in our goddamn living room.” “In your house?” Her voice cracked like a whip. “In case you’ve forgotten, this isn’t yours anymore. None of this is. It belongs to her now. To Hailey Vale, the stripper heiress who just hosted a softcore orgy in our ancestral estate and made the cover of three tabloids.” She flung a rolled-up paper across the room. It slid to a stop in front of Marcus. “STRIPPING HEIRESS CLAIMS THE LACHLAN THRONE.

i said coldly. Debbie rolled her eyes. "You still still haven't answered Becky's question. Where did you steal the money to buy that dress?" I stayed silent. I could have easily shut them all up by revealing the truth. That I wasn't some abandoned woman crawling back into high society. That I was Giselle Von Howard, the heiress to one of the richest empire in the world. But I wasn't about to waste my breath on people who had already made up their minds about me. Patrick scoffed his voice dropping into something almost bitter. "So this is why you accepted the divorce? Because you wanted to some rich guy? Because you wanted to get back at me?. I stared at him. Unbelievable.

she hissed. Hendrix turned to the side and took a step forward, bridging the gap between them. “Your business is my business, Margaux,” he retorted. She glared at him. “How so? We're not married. If you still acknowledge that I am Margaux Hermani, well then, we are already officially divorce. I'm single now with my original and fake name. So my business is no one's business. That's only mine, not even my family, especially not yours!” she exclaimed.

“Malachi says for some reason that he still wants to be married to that girl, Antonia. Now I know Antonia hasn’t done much to us, but that’s the issue, she can’t do much. Marrying her would bring no prospects to the family, meanwhile, the lovely girl Malachi is refusing is Skye Rogers. She’s from the prestigious Rogers family. They’ve known each other since they were kids. Why doesn’t he want her?” I do not hear anything else Sienna says until she finishes, and when she does, only one thing is ringing in my head as I get up and nod to her, my tone dark as I respond. “I’ll handle it.” I find Malachi in one of the libraries in the mansion and he looks up immediately he senses he’s not alone. A

"Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I'm sitting here grieving a marriage while my life burns down around me?" "Then walk into his office and put the Veyra seal on his desk!" Nathan demanded, leaning in, his palms slamming flat onto the table between us. "Show him the birth register! Show him the master routing codes! Force him to see that the woman he married isn't a small-time thief, but an heiress sitting on the capital that built his entire firm! If you give him the truth, he has to pause the divorce! He has to stop Adelina!"

he said, his voice short. I opened the folder, and then came her photo — her silver dress, her posture. A strange feeling twisted in my chest, sharp and unwelcome. She wasn’t merely the desperate woman I’d sat down beside in my car, fleeing from abductors in her ripped gown. She was the Clawford heiress. Her brazen gala invitation to dinner — direct and without the usual scheming attached — stuck in my brain. The majority of women who came to me were wanting something—money, influence, a hold in my world. That greed wasn't in Valenticia’s eyes.

“He doesn’t love me anymore.” Marcus laughed lowly. “Told you this wouldn’t last. A queen can’t lie about the heir and expect to keep her crown.” Silvia slammed the glass down. “Don’t mock me.” He shrugged. “Fine. So what now?” She was quiet for a moment, thinking. Her nails scratched gently at her wrist. “I know her… I’ve seen her before. That name… Alana Winters…” She said the name again, softly. “Alana Winters… Winters… It sounds so familiar. Why can’t I remember?”

She just wanted to sever all legal ties to me. The rejection stung worse than any physical wound I ever received. I spent five years building an empire to secure her future, and she walked away from it with nothing but the clothes on her back. I flipped to the last page and saw her signature signed in dark ink. Arabella Bellini. She signed the papers while she was recovering from major surgery. She planned this, and she executed it the moment she woke up.

"That's honest, at least. Most people would have some story prepared about who they are now, what they're supposed to be doing. But you're just admitting you don't know. I like that." Over the next few days, Dovette became my constant companion. While Marten had been the one to bring me to the mill, Dovette was the one who seemed to understand what I was experiencing. She has also lost her parents and both of her siblings in the attack. But instead of being catatonic about it, she seemed to have channeled her grief into a kind of grim determination to keep moving forward. "Where were you from?" I asked her on the second day of travel.