His Reluctant Bride

After Divorce: My Arrogant Ex Regrets Calling Me Trash

Sea Jet

Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world. In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief." But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius. Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be.

Romance CEO Drama Romance Billionaires Personal growth Ex-wife

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It was a long holiday weekend, and the entire city was in celebration mode.

At The Grand Court Hotel, Westbridge's most extravagant venue, a dozen weddings were happening simultaneously, each one unfolding with seamless precision.

On the sixtieth floor, in a dark little utility room, Serena Dawson was nodding off from exhaustion.

Earlier that morning, while getting her makeup done downstairs, she overheard some gossip - apparently, a super exclusive wedding was taking place on the sixtieth floor. Both the bride and groom came from elite families. Especially the groom - a real legend in Westbridge.

To keep the whole thing private, the elevators were locked down past the 60th floor. No VIP badge, no entry.

That overheard gossip basically saved her. While the lobby was packed with people, she had quietly slipped off, climbed the stairs, and ducked into this room to hide.

Her parents were trying to force her to marry a man old enough to be her dad, just to cover a gambling debt of 600,000 bucks.

She never imagined there'd be a price tag on her one day, let alone a six-hundred-thousand-dollar one. How flattering.

She was in such a rush to bail she didn't even get to change. The wedding dress she was stuck in was suffocating.

She didn't know how long she'd been in there, half-asleep, before music started playing.

She flinched awake, curiosity kicking in.

Weddings like this are a first for her.

She nudged the door open just a crack, and peeked out. From her angle, she could only see the groom on stage.

And boy - he was something else. Sharp eyes, sculpted features, brows like blades, and thin lips. Tall, lean, and in that tailored suit? The man looked like he walked off a magazine cover. He practically oozed power and wealth.

That was money talking, no doubt.

But wait - why did he look so... bored? Shouldn't grooms at least pretend to smile?

"Mr. Quinn, do you take this beautiful woman, Miss Chloe Garland, as your lawfully wedded wife? To honor her, cherish her, respect and protect her, in wealth or poverty, in sickness and in health, remaining faithful and loving till death do you part?" The host was going full-on dramatic, voice echoing through the ballroom.

Then the man, Matthew Quinn, gave a crooked smile and said, "Sorry, didn't catch that. Mind repeating?"

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