Novel & Cerita The Divorced Billionaire Heiress Actress

I heard they got divorced! [What? Divorced? Who would leave a perfect man like Mr. Cross?] [Perfect man? Please. Look at him at the airport—he obviously betrayed her first and is now crying for forgiveness!] [But Mr. Cross is a billionaire. He just made a mistake that all men make. Is his wife really so heartless to completely abandon him?] [Ha! You might want to put up with a cheating husband, but a wealthy heiress doesn't have to. She can definitely find someone better!]

“ Stop lying to yourself. I bet that is why you are going through with the divorce. After, what can I possibly give you or add to your life?” “ Is this coming from Micheal Don Salvatore El’s granddaughter? You mean the chosen heir to a billion dollar company is nothing in your eyes? Nicki…” “ Newsflash, the billionaire isn't taking my calls anymore. Maybe he will reach out when we are finally divorced.” She explained, grabbed her phone and bolted before I could say another word. Unable to stay in my office, I drove straight to the headquarters and met a dazed Melissa in the elevator. I stepped in and waved briefly at her. She gave me a light bow without tearing her gaze off me.

Now she was the richest woman in New York. Charlotte’s voice trembled. “What does this mean for us?” Adrian stared blankly at the TV. “It means I just divorced the richest woman in New York.” *** Evelyn’s POV After she left, I lay down, but my phone buzzed. Unknown number. “Hello?” Breathing. Then a voice—cold, familiar. “Evelyn?” My blood ran cold. “Charlotte.” “So it’s true,” she hissed. “You ran off and rebranded yourself as some princess.”

I snap. "You never asked for one–" "Are you even hearing yourself?! I am supposed to ask my husband for his time? His effort? His attention–hell, his love? No–I did, and look at where that got me. I loved you–I really did, but even if you hadn't married me I would have been fine." I shove the card back towards him, glaring. "I don't need it... I don't need you." "Ella–" "We're divorced, George. I'm no longer a Wickham, and it was the best decision I've ever made. I don't know why you're here when you have Charlotte, but I don't need compensation or whatever this is."

she expressed in shock. It felt unbelievable, and they all rose to their feet, staring at the TV screen like toddlers watching cartoons, unable to be disturbed. "As the report reached us, we found out that the former Alda Morgan, now Alessandra Russo, was recently divorced by her husband, Tyler Harrington, and lost everything she ever had to the cold hands of her husband's divorce." "Could this be fate? The former Alda Morgan, now Alessandra Russo, who should now be a nobody, is now one of the richest women alive in the United States of America."

He talks a lot but his good looks make you forget about that in a minute. He smiled back. "So, gentlemen, let's get to the order of the day," Nathan's lawyer took over from Francis. "Thank you, Francis. We have some terms here for the divorce. If I may, can I proceed?" "Yes," Francis and I chorused. "Good. Firstly, Mr. Lancaster wants to pay you a total of five hundred thousand dollars as a settlement for the divorce," "I don't want his money," I replied firmly. I don't have any interest in Nathan's money. I didn't ask for a divorce to get some part of his money, I needed the divorce for my freedom.

But the mysterious and attractive charm from the man in the black nightgown made Vivian unable to resist but had to look back. Her first impression of Dominic was that the man was so beautiful. He was as handsome as a knight or some god out of a myth, with a tall body, broad shoulders, long arms, and an angular face full of masculinity. His gaze was sober and calm, he casually passed others but made them pay attention to him. Vivian watched him until the figure of the man disappeared behind a turn in the hospital corridor. It was not until later that she learned that he was Dominic Arnold, the richest famous billionaire, wielding fearsome power and also a notorious arms dealer. She was lucky

“You married a poor girl, not knowing that she's an heiress of the multi-billion-dollar empire?” “Like my whole family, I believed she possesses nothing,” he said, his fingers curling tightly around the wooden armrests. “But you were wrong.” Darkness danced along my grin. “Was that the reason for your divorce?” His trembling hand moved to his collar and loosened his tie. “I-I beg your pardon?” I leaned farther on my desk, feeling the anger slowly coiling inside me. “Did you divorce her because she was poor? Because she had nothing? Because she wasn't good enough?”

"What's going on here?" she asked in perfect Italian, her tone brooking no argument. The officer snapped to attention. "Racheal, this man is demanding to see a prisoner, Abigail Johnson." The woman turned to me, and I felt the ground shift beneath my feet. It was none other than Racheal Williams. My ex-wife. I hadn’t seen her in years, not since the divorce. My mouth and eyes couldn’t help but open widely. She was looking more powerful and confident than I ever remembered.