Divorcing Billionaire Vincent Mga Nobela at Kwento

The proximity was intoxicating—the scent of him, the heat of his skin, the shared trauma that bound us more tightly than any contract ever could. "The 90 days are over, Rachelle," he said softly. "The lawyers called Mikhail ten minutes ago. The judge signed the decree at dawn. You're free. The Santoro shares are yours. The Veronesi assets are cleared. You don't ever have to look at my face again." I paused, my hand resting on his shoulder. I felt the muscle quiver beneath my touch. "And where will you go?" "I have a villa in the Maldives. A few private interests in Singapore. I’ll disappear. Let the 'Siren of Milan' have her stage without a shadow hanging over her."

At this moment, Bruce’s life meant more to her than anything else. And so, under Aileen’s pressure, Sharon reluctantly signed the divorce agreement. Now, she didn’t even have a chance to see Bruce, and she had to move out of their home overnight. The pouring rain continued as Sharon walked with heavy steps. She had just gotten off public transportation and swayed her way to the small house where she and Bruce had signed the contract. Everything Aileen said was true. Sharon could only bring suffering to Bruce. He used to be wealthy, living a luxurious life. But for Sharon, Bruce was willing to give up everything and lead a simple life.

She pulled his jacket from around her shoulder, then folded it once before placing it beside him. “Please,” she said gently. “Just stay away.” He told himself, ‘It’s not rejection. It’s protection,’ because that was what his heart would believe. He inclined his head. “I understand.” She searched his face, as though memorizing it. Her eyes mirrored the longing, the pull, the utter betrayal of logic. Then she turned again and disappeared down the path. Theodore remained seated until she vanished completely from his sight. He took out his phone and made a note about the divorce. He had to expand his reach. A divorce between people like Levi and Alicia Connard-Rutherford - prominent members of s

He couldn't get too upset about it. He shakes his head, not hearing my friendly words, but before I continue someone knocks on the door and cuts me off. Roman with his hair cut short on the sides and longer on the top runs his fingers through it while walking into the penthouse and drops a copy of the local paper on the kitchen island. Vincent grunts his thanks and leans over, reading the article heading where Roman points. "Fuck me." Ex-Wife of Local Billionaire Writes Tell-All Book Vincent's fists slam angrily on the paper. "I'm the only fucking billionaire in this town. Shit."

The space of the bar was very large and designed for dancing, so the tables next to each other were also very far apart. “Hey, I noticed that man intended to approach that girl who was drinking alone. She looks quite beautiful, should I come and be the hero to rescue the beauty?” Vincent's lady-killer nature had always remained unchanged. Unlike Harry and Brian, who come from two of the richest and most powerful families, Vincent single-handedly built his career and became the president and CEO of the largest entertainment company in the country. That was why Brian wanted to take advantage of him to invest in film production at his request.

But I was already practicing for the life I would live without him—far away, on my own. He didn’t notice. His eyes kept darting toward the phone beside his plate. When it buzzed, he snatched it up instantly. His lips curved, faint but unmistakable. Whoever she was—Alessia, the woman haunting his messages—she could do what I never could. She could make him smile. I watched in silence, then slid the papers I had carried for months across the table. “Vincent,” I said quietly. “Let’s divorce.” He didn’t even lift his gaze. His pen scratched across the paper where I pointed, while his other hand continued typing a reply to her.

He did not want to lose her in such a way. Early that morning, Vincent had forced Calvin on the deal and it was Calvin that had brought Vincent to enter Knight Corporation’s building as his named consultant. Calvin was shocked to realise that Vincent has not moved on from his ex-wife. Something was bothering Vincent and Calvin was determined to find out the answers. Calvin even wanted to return Vincent’s yacht and end the silly bet they had. It was just a silly game. The yacht was worth nothing as compared to being with Laura Knight. She was worth more than that.

Vincent muttered. "You said you did tell me what I needed to know, you are the one acting like a joke here by beating around the bush," Selena replied. "I want evidence of your divorce before I tell you what you want to know," Vincent demanded as Selena reached into her purse quickly to bring out the paper she and Aiden had signed before she left. She handed it over to Vincent. Vincent checked it briefly sinking into his seat as a smile appeared on his face, so they were finally divorced. He couldn't believe she had gotten Aiden to sign the paper on such short notice.

The judge granted the divorce, and because I'd waived all property claims, I didn't want anything built on blood, it moved fast. Outside the courthouse, Damian caught up to me. "Wait — Quinn!" I kept walking. A car pulled up. Vincent stepped out from the driver's side and slung an arm around my shoulders, smiling directly at Damian. "The great Don, and he still can't let his ex-wife walk away? Quinn really did waste the best years of her life on you." Damian's eyes went red immediately. "Who is he. Quinn — who is he—" "Who am I?" Vincent looked delighted. "Guess."

Back in the bedroom, I blinked back the burn in my eyes and started packing. It was obvious. He has someone else by his side now. He shouldn’t need me anymore. There was no reason for me to stay. "What are you doing?" He saw my open suitcase and rushed into the room. "Packing." "Packing for what? Where are you going?" "I'm divorcing you. Of course I'm moving out." Vincent froze for a second, then his tone softened. He moved closer, trying to sweet-talk me. I forced myself not to look at the bright red lipstick stain on his collar.