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Divorcing The Billionaire: My Spectacular Comeback

Chapter 7 

Word Count: 851    |    Released on: Today at 13:55

, minimalist expanse of Ernst Winters's office on the top floor of the Winters Enterpr

pen, his full attention on her.

te his desk. "I did. Oh, Ernst, she looks so... lost. So fragi

her off. He rounded the desk and placed a comforting hand on her shou

es. "Ernst," she whispered, her voice full of vulnerability, "o

e carried, a guilt he didn't fully understand but knew was tied to Keely and

ly shifted her strategy. It was

gned compassion. "She'll have a hard time on her own after the

ance. The last thing he wanted

Atelier Valois. I could ask her to give Haley a position. Maybe an assistant illustrator

d generosity from a woman who had been wronged. In reality, it was a calculated move to

messy affair to be over. "Do whatever you think is best,"

e this time, and changed the subject to the details of her welcome

hospital, Haley's phone rang

ing to inform you that the divorce agreement has been prepared. Per your... demands... Mr. Winters has agreed to the

lion dollars. Her demands? S

at he was just throwing money at the problem to make it go away. The offer wasn't a kindness; it

not let him buy her silence or her absence. She

ly calm and clear, "that I don't want his money

e other end of the line. Even the

lly managed. "I wil

he had her pride. And right now, that felt like the only thing that matt

o Kiya: I'm checking ou

ing her own calls. She was laying the groundwork for Hale

avor to ask. I need you to interview my cousin for some low-leve

st take Ernst. She would take away Haley's career, her talent,

see none of it. He would only see the kind, forgi

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Divorcing The Billionaire: My Spectacular Comeback
Divorcing The Billionaire: My Spectacular Comeback
“I thought my cold marriage to billionaire Ernst Winters was finally thawing after a night of unexpected intimacy. But the next morning, he threw a check in my face, accusing me of drugging his water just to get pregnant. Desperate to prove my innocence, I confronted my adoptive mother, who had been in our room that night. Instead of defending me, she fell to her knees in front of Ernst, crying fake tears. "She did this once before, you know, just to get you to marry her. We can't let Haley stand in the way of your happiness with Keely any longer." Ernst looked at me like I was a monster. I was chased out into the rain, hit by his car, and left to rot in a hospital bed while they threw a lavish welcome party for my cousin Keely's return. Stripped of my marriage and family, I tried to start over by applying to a prestigious design firm. But the interviewer publicly humiliated me, throwing my portfolio on the floor and calling me a cheap plagiarist. When I looked up the genius new designer I supposedly copied, my blood ran cold. It was Keely. She hadn't just orchestrated the end of my marriage; she had stolen my graduation portfolio and claimed my entire life's work as her own. The grief vanished, replaced by a cold, hard fury. My original, hand-drawn sketches were still locked in a storage box in my adoptive mother's attic. It was time to go back and burn their perfect little world to the ground.”