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After Divorce:My arrogant ex-husband regrets

Chapter 5 5

Word Count: 643    |    Released on: 27/01/2026

log about asset division on her tablet. She heard the front door

from the last few days seemingly evaporated. He walked into the li

y I missed," he sai

ack velvet, long and slender. It lo

urged, sitti

bracelet. It was platinum, heavy and substantial, encrusted with rare pink

cting gratitude, expecting

k. A cold, hard rock paid for with gui

of the box. "Let

bandaged-and clasped the bracelet. I

This is to say thank you for being patient

her patience. He was paying

et, then at him. "Did yo

ro-second, a tiny glitch in

ilk lining of the bag it had come in. As she pulled the box closer, s

s a r

but he stopped himself, realizing that reaction would look

layfulness. "Let me see the dam

ickly. Her blood

Diamond Tennis Bra

ught two ident

dangerously calm. She held the re

," he said smoothly. "Her birthday is coming up next month. Yo

ia Bolton was a known jewelry

But her gut was screaming. It was a physical sensation, a twis

e table. "That's generous of y

opped an inch. He thought he had dodge

said, putting the receipt back in h

s perfect," D

elier. She wasn't going to dinner to celebrate. She was going to wait for the

She needed to find out who the second bracelet really went to. Because she knew, with a

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After Divorce:My arrogant ex-husband regrets
After Divorce:My arrogant ex-husband regrets
“I sat alone at my long marble dining table, staring at a plate of cold truffle risotto. My husband, Jere, was late again, claiming he was stuck in a "war zone" of a board meeting for a multi-billion dollar merger. A single Instagram notification shattered the silence. It was a photo of a candlelit birthday dinner, featuring a man's hand resting on a white tablecloth. I recognized the slight veins, the jagged scar on the thumb, and the navy-faced Patek Philippe watch I had spent six months tracking down as a wedding gift. Jere wasn't in a boardroom; he was celebrating his ex-girlfriend Irina's birthday while texting me to "don't wait up." The next morning, I followed him to a VIP hospital wing. I watched through a cracked door as my husband cuddled a five-year-old boy and whispered tender promises to Irina. When he came home, he tried to buy my silence with a rare pink diamond bracelet, but I found the receipt: he had bought two identical ones. He had branded his wife and his mistress with matching jewelry, using hidden trackers to keep us both on a leash. When I confronted him, he didn't flinch. He coldly reminded me that he owned my father's massive debts and could send him to prison for insolvency fraud with one phone call. "Stop with the attitude, Deliah," he said. I felt like a ghost haunting my own life, trapped in a gilded cage by the man who paid for my mother's heart surgery while keeping a secret family across town. The humiliation peaked at our rescheduled anniversary dinner when Jere received a text, threw a stack of hundreds at me like I was a stranger, and abandoned me in a crowded restaurant to rush back to her. "Pay the bill," he commanded before walking out. Standing in the wreckage of a shattered crystal vase back at the penthouse, I realized my silence was the only thing keeping his empire standing. I pulled the crumpled divorce papers from my purse and signed my name with a steady hand. I wasn't just walking away; I was calling his sister to help me burn his perfect world to the ground.”