Mine After Divorce Novels & Stories

She had the most to gain from my divorce. “Keep digging,” I said, my voice low. “I want proof.” I ended our meeting there and left the café.

Abigail whined. "Oh, the complexity of love," Diane said sarcastically. "So he's not giving you the attention you deserve or what?" "That's just a part of the problem, the main thing is, I think he's still into his ex-wife." "You married a divorcee?" Diane asked, her tone laced with judgment. "You've been divorced three times, Diane, and besides, he buys all my jewelry," Abigail rolled her eyes at her. "Okay, fair point. Anyway, what do you want to do about it?"

Charlotte stated, her words landing like a heavy blow. "What?" I sputtered, my mind reeling as I searched her icy gaze for any hint of emotion, finding none. After a heavy silence, Charlotte informed me that she had signed her portion of the divorce papers and requested that I do the same. I was taken aback; the calm, loving woman who had always sought to please me had turned unexpectedly cold. The joy I had felt upon seeing her was swiftly replaced by a sense of gloom. I had anticipated her return, not her desire to leave me. I couldn't fathom her audacity. "I can't believe she wants to finalize the divorce," I muttered to myself, a surge of disbelief and hurt coursing through me. "Why so f

He held my hands tightly, begging me for the impossible. “The problem is not you Davinchi, it has everything to do with me.” There was someone he saw amidst his pleas that gave him closure. The divorce went through successfully and I was given two of the mini stars restaurants to run. My fourth husband who I was headed towards his direction was nothing like the men that I had met. He was from a poor background, had nothing to offer me and if I even dared to request for a divorce, I would be the one at the receiving end.

Mimi scoffed. "Have you forgotten the prenup we signed? We have to make it five years before any of us can ask for a divorce. Divorce me, you and I will lose everything. All this will go to your brother and his obnoxious wife." She gloated in a proud tone as she struts up to me and massages my shoulders. "I'm sorry baby, it was a mistake but now you know, we can now go for counselling and work on our Marriage." She said as I jerked away from her.

she continued. "Screw you!" I exploded, the frustration boiling over. "I don’t care about the money, or the legacy, or any of it! What matters is that we’re both about to be trapped in a marriage neither of us wants, and for what? A mistake I made because I was too drunk to know what I was doing?" Aria flinched at my words, and I saw a flicker of pain in her eyes. It made me hesitate, just for a moment. But I couldn’t stop now. I had to convince her.

The silence was no longer just irritating; it was an insult. An animal that bites the hand that feeds it. That’s what she was. I went back to the bed, sat on the edge, and ripped open the envelope. The divorce papers slid into my lap. Signed. And, just like the maid said, with no demands for assets. I let out a laugh. A short, dry, humorless sound. So, she thought she could just leave? That she could erase my name, refuse my money, and disappear? What a childish fantasy. Her audacity was almost admirable, if it weren’t so stupid.

Taylor leaned back slowly, her hand pressing lightly against her forehead as though trying to steady her thoughts. “So let me understand this,” she said, her voice measured now, controlled in a way that suggested effort. “Your wife has left you. She has taken the company. You are officially divorced. And someone you trusted has taken what remained of your money.” Matthew did not interrupt. He simply nodded. Mrs. Taylor’s hand dropped from her forehead, her gaze fixing on him again. “So the company is not yours,” she said. Matthew held her gaze. “Yes.” Mrs. Taylor inhaled slowly, the breath catching slightly before she released it.

"Mason, why are you always so petty? I'm home today to spend Thanksgiving with you and also celebrate our third wedding anniversary." It was amazing that she even remembered that today was our third wedding anniversary. Mason smiled. "Great! I even prepared a gift for you. It's in our room—no, I guess it’s your and Harvey's room now." Mason's voice was cheerful, but Mindy's heart still sank. She desperately rushed back to the room and saw a divorce agreement on the table. It had Mason's name on it. Mason's voice rang coldly. "Mindy, let's get divorced and never see each other again."

"Babe, you know I want to divorce the bitch. But Susan is our money bag. My last two tech ventures went completely under and the creditors would have stripped me bare if Susan's name wasn't tied to the accounts. Her fashion company is pulling in millions. And She pays for everything—our mortgage, our vacations, even that Cartier bracelet I bought you last month was paid for using her business credit card." Christy gasped. "Wait, she paid for my bracelet?" "Yes, I bought it from our joined accounts. Our assets are totally intertwined. If I divorce her today, she gets the house, her money, and I'm left with nothing but debts. I need to quietly siphon more of her capital into my dummy corporati