Leaving The Billionaire Who Loved His Ex

a

ghost in my

never

father. He interpreted my distance as

ore while he texted Oliv

th the clinical detachment of a

der his control. He thought I was still the sweet,

ow that the

thinking about the estate planning. With Dad gone, a

om his tablet. "I have

some papers for the new property investment you wanted to make. And

f papers across

e trusted me to handl

and here," I said, poin

too busy typing a message on his p

horization for th

at I had buried in the middle of the stack, cl

gly gave me full autonomy over my reproductive c

capping his pen. "I hav

aid. "Have

heek. His lips

elevator doors

pointment a

ls were a blinding, sterile white.

dn't

ld into a world where its father wished it was someone els

ver done. It felt like I was car

was nec

he clini

thorized. I moved my inheritance from my father and half of our

ust clothes. No jewelry.

night, I was sitting on

id, loosening his tie.

ired,"

d dismissively. "The baby

yes. He wasn't thinking about a child. He was thinking a

ll,"

is study. To

ers was already dry. He had no idea that the f

rmind. He didn't realize he