Divorcing The Arrogant Ice Hockey Star

Chapter 6

Word Count: 653 | Released on: Today at 16:39

a wave of exhaustion. Confronting h

patting my back. "That was brilliant. T

ok my head. "This is

ccount. It was our only shared financial asset, use

f temptation. Most of this money was Landon's salary and endorsement fees. But a

awyer's fees, for my own

ts belonged to me entirely. I pulled up years of bank statements and

s. I calmly initiated the transfer, moving

ented sense of freedom. For the first time, I was making

d whistled. "Ruthless. I love it.

ot is none of my business. Elara, any news

ent them to your email. We can go see

But I have to get to work first. We'll

o the team offices, she was met

few female colleag

ife ran off with a ton of his mon

him for his money. A classic Puc

k with Isabelle Sterling, she's tryi

out to confront them, she was stopped by Pa

ho had always looked down on me, the "unp

ess. Don't get involved in the b

her office and immediately c

gry tirade, but I fe

d. Hadn't I heard these

would have sought comfort from Landon, an

nce of emotion on people and word

The nastier they are now, the harder the

lm her down too. "So wha

m going to launch my own independent brand-a premium

n't felt in years. It was the dream I had buried for Landon

pick it back up wi

Chapter End

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Divorcing The Arrogant Ice Hockey Star

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“On our fourth wedding anniversary, I spent all afternoon preparing my husband's favorite meal. But Landon, a star hockey player, came home late, ignored the dinner, and rushed back out to comfort his ex-girlfriend. When I begged him to stay, he coldly called me "unreasonable" and slammed the door. Shortly after, I received a text message from an unknown number. It was an ultrasound photo, along with a taunting text: Isabelle was pregnant with his child. The sheer shock triggered a sudden, agonizing pain in my abdomen, making me collapse on the cold tiles. I called Landon with my last ounce of strength, begging him to save me. "Stop faking sick just because I went out. Don't cause more trouble for me. Get yourself an Uber." He impatiently hung up to deal with his ex's PR crisis. I was rushed to the ER with a ruptured ovarian cyst and severe internal bleeding. I nearly died on the operating table, forced to sign my own surgery consent forms completely alone. For four years, I had given up my dreams and identity to support his career, only to be treated like a disposable doll. I couldn't understand how the man I loved could leave me to die while fiercely protecting another woman. Waking up from the anesthesia, the pathetic woman who begged for his love was dead. I didn't cry or wait for his apology. Instead, I transferred my assets, packed my bags, and hired the most ruthless celebrity divorce lawyer in New York. This time, I'm making him pay.”