Novel & Cerita The Divorced Heiress Revenge Full Novel

Chapter One Pearl’s POV “You’re a billionaire heiress, Pearl. Haven’t you come to terms with this yet? When will you quit this game of charades and come clean to your husband?” Bella, my mother, complained. My mouth gaped in astonishment. How many times would I tell this woman that I wasn’t interested? "No, Mother, I've told you already. Ashton and I are doing just fine. This whole meeting or whatever this even is doesn’t even make sense. Quit pestering me!" I rolled my eyes, sinking deeper into my seat.

"You kept it from me for so long because you were afraid I'd give up, weren't you? But Calvin, I lost everything a long time ago. Learning this truth only made me more aware of that. Yet, even so, I still want to try—to learn how to love again. Not for any reason other than this: when I was lying alone in that hospital bed, desperate, I asked Elijah if he'd marry me. He took my hand and said, 'Yes.' In my darkest moment, he held onto me and told me I was Patricia, his wife. Even if it's all just a dream, I want to stay asleep a little longer. So, Calvin, let me be selfish this once. You're the most important person to me, and I want your support." "Do you still want revenge?" "You know, I ha

Now, it seems the gossip vines were right. “Mrs Gates? What a joke! You're just sitting on an empty shell. His heart, his body, his wealth, his company, they all belong to me. You have nothing, except the name. No, you no longer even have the name, you're already divorced. Why do you still strut around with that title?” She whispered to me, staring down at me.

This was something else entirely. "Adrian," I said carefully, moving around the desk to perch on the edge. I crossed my legs slowly, deliberately, making sure the slit in my dress revealed plenty of thigh. Usually, that was enough to distract him. "You're the one who threw her out. You wanted the divorce. Remember?" "I wanted her compliant," he snapped. "I wanted her to know her place. Instead, she ran to Damien Cross, of all people. Do you have any idea what kind of ammunition that gives him?"

The closet was huge, and what shocked me more was that it was full to the brim with clothes, almost as if he was expecting me all this time. Hesitating, I walked to the vanity and looked at myself. I needed to get used to my new face. This is you, Isabella . This is your face. I convinced myself, because Malakai ’s words still rang in my head. ‘Do you think you're strong enough for that? You're falling apart over your face, Isabella . What makes you think you can get revenge when you're losing your mind over a scar?’ There was a knock on the door. I opened it, and a maid with a polite smile greeted me. She spoke English with a thick Italian accent.

Vivienne turned to him, her expression no longer shaken but sharpened. “Then we don’t give her the chance.” Daniel searched her face. “You have a plan?” “Not yet,” she admitted. “But I have something better.” “What?” Vivienne’s gaze hardened. “Leverage.” That night, Helena called an emergency strategy meeting. Not at the office. Not at the penthouse. But at a discreet townhouse registered under a separate foundation name. For the first time, Vivienne felt like she was stepping into something larger than revenge.

But the anger came right back into his expression. "Ahtisa, this is not a game! You don't just stand up and shout about divorce in front of my lawyer!" "And you don't bring an outsider to a private family reading," I snapped back, my tone turning ice-cold. I pointed a finger at Isabella. "Today is our anniversary, Adrian. You didn't come home last night, you forgot the date entirely, and then you show up here with your charity case, expecting me to sign over billions of dollars without even reading the pages."

he said softly, “you don’t need to be involved in distressing situations like this.” That redirected everything. Her hesitation dissolved. Her emotional weight shifted back to him. And she lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry,” Isabella whispered quietly, almost to herself. Not an accusation. Not a judgment. Just surrendering to confusion she no longer had the strength to resolve. By morning, the maid was gone. No scandal. No loud confrontation. Just absence. Clean. Quiet. Final. And the estate became exactly what Ethan had been refining all along. Smaller. Controlled.

Where was she going to go, and why did she seem like the divorce didn't affect her? “Don't go Meg”. Elizabeth begged, trying to make a good impression on Mrs. Wilson. But Megan would be dead if she believed her, so she ignored her plea and walked towards the door. What a nice person Elizabeth was, how could she still be nice to someone who stole Greg from her in the first place? Mrs. Wilson thought. As she walked past. Mrs. Wilson noticed the necklace on Megan, it was an expensive model which only one of its kind existed. There were rumours about the only heiress of the song family owning it.

The bathroom had expensive products arranged in order. The study room was where I found her. The desk was large and covered in papers that had been there before the accident, exactly as she had left them. Books on the shelves, business and law, but also history, also philosophy. And on the desk, half-hidden under a legal document, a single notebook. I picked it up carefully. It was filled with Vivienne's handwriting. I did not read it all. But I read enough to understand that Vivian Salvatore had been angry.