The Billion-dollar Divorce Novels & Stories

Sealed divorce documents on page three. “Divorce Rosalind?!” my mother shrieked, “You cannot divorce James.” I wanted a hole to open up in the floor and swallow me whole. “Do you know how much money it’s going to cost your father to have these deemed as false rumors?” she shook her head, scoffing and tossing the stack of tabloids on the table in front of her, but the one hiding behind the top cover caught my eye. Billionaire James Wood purchases multimillion dollar penthouse for mistress amid ongoing divorce.

Aaliyah’s POV If someone had told me two years ago that I would one day divorce Henry and almost immediately marry a billionaire I met in a club, I would have laughed so hard I might have fallen off my chair. Maybe even thrown my drink at them saying it was insulting. Not in a million years would I have believed it. And yet here I was; standing in the middle of a beautiful home Orrin bought for us, his hand holding mine and his eyes locked on me like I was the only person that existed in the world.

Enduring the tight space is a minor inconvenience to experience the comfort of a dear friend. Going through a divorce when your spouse is a billionaire is never straightforward. The process tends to drag on longer than it would for a typical couple. Just managing the process made my head spin. Balancing my new life as a single woman, keeping track of my small company’s finances, and trying to be a good friend to Lewis was enough to give anyone a headache.

"I have revised the divorce agreement. If you have any objections, please sign it." Olivia glanced at it. The divorce agreement she had drafted before only had one condition: she wanted ten million dollars in compensation. The current divorce agreement, on the other hand, was much more extensive. It amounted to a billion dollars, part of which was made up of villas, cars, and real estate properties. She chuckled lightly. "Mr. Miller, you're really generous." Instead of looking at her, Ethan lowered his head to glance at his wristwatch. "It's what you deserve."

This was something else, something built specifically into the divorce agreement as a condition of the financial settlement. My father had paid a sum of money—a very large sum of money—and in exchange, the courts had agreed that no inquiries would be made. No follow-up. No checks. Nothing at all. The divorce papers hadn't just ended a marriage. They had bought silence from the system. "This was legal?" I asked.

With a broken heart, a weakened eyeballs that were tired of crying, and my weak soul I look up to him "Congratulations Nickolas Michealson you have succeeded in breaking down my walls, from today I'm giving you the freedom you have always wanted, you can have the traitor you love so much, I strip myself off every legal right you and I have over each other" I pulled off my wedding ring "Here…." I showed him the ring and threw it away in the rain "I Ava Della Sanchez, Divorce you Nickolas Michealson as my lawfully wedded husband, I give you the freedom you've wanted so much. Sorry for bothering your life, and sorry for ever loving you, I will sign the divorce papers and send it back to you"

“Two billion dollars.” Her brain stuttered. “Two billion.” “It protects both of us. Ensures we keep this professional. Business only.” Two billion dollars. An impossible sum. A sum that would destroy her but barely dent his fortune. “That’s not equal,” she said. “I could never pay that.” “Then don’t breach the contract.” His voice was calm. “Neither of us will. That’s the point.” She should walk away. Should tell him this was insane, that penalty clauses on feelings were dystopian and controlling and wrong.

To watch me cling even harder to my gentle husband. But this time, I stayed silent. My silence was starting to get under his skin. "Say something! Cat got your tongue? Or are you actually stepping aside? Perfect -- Vivian's way more fun than you'll ever be..." "Are you done?" I cut him off. He froze. This time, I didn't reach into my bag for our marriage certificate. Instead, I pulled out my phone and forwarded him the divorce papers my lawyer had sent me. "Ethan." I looked him in the eye.

“I don’t need you stressing her out. It’s bad for the baby.” I stared at him, my heart breaking all over again. “She’s pregnant?” He nodded, finally looking up at me with a cold gaze. “Yeah. So don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” Something inside me snapped. “I want a divorce.” For the first time in months, I saw a flicker of emotion on his face—surprise, maybe even anger—but I didn’t care anymore. I couldn’t keep doing this. I couldn’t keep pretending like everything was okay.