Divorcing The Arrogant Ice Hockey Star

Chapter 7

Word Count: 733 | Released on: Today at 16:39

don

om last night's game. I was downing glass after glass of whis

n enough. He put a hand on my glass as I raised it

New York's oldest families, and he was always the voice

with a sneer. "Stay

er in arms, a former Navy SEAL who now ran a top-tier sec

days, Landon," Caleb said, his voice lo

n... Chloe. She's divorcing me. And she ran off with a

rowned. "Ran off with your money? That does

fter hearing it, Julian

emember correctly, that's likely just the investment returns fro

mind, once we were married, what was her

aking another swig of whiskey.

sharp. "Landon, be honest.

by the memory of Chloe's pale face that night. I

n, we've known each other for years. I've

outed, making heads turn at nearby

oming home to a cold dinner. Not used to th

ity. "You're just stubborn. You care

f my anger. I fell silent, my fingers

y head wasn't the lost endorsement or Isabelle's nagging.

e her? The thought sent a

vulnerability, Julian and C

d. "You need to talk to her. Not with that c

locked my number. How am I

ment, then made a decision

didn't block me," he said, find

ng at him. "What

e call on speakerphone and pl

ectly, "Elara, it's Julian Beaumont. Landon's drunk at the

one, my heart poun

ping she would come or te

lara seemed to pass

nd clear, came through the speaker, echoing acr

oice, speaking to

. You should call Isabelle Sterling. She's

Chapter End

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Divorcing The Arrogant Ice Hockey Star

Su Liao Romance

“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.”