Divorce Make Me A Tycoon, My Ex Meet His Doom
When Christine Woods collapses into a hospital bed from unbearable pain, her husband's response is colder than the IV dripping into her veins: "Stop pretending to be sick."
That same night, a single social media post shatters her marriage--Neil Caffery, intimate with the first love he once claimed was dead.
Three years of marriage. Three years of neglect, indifference, and quiet self-deception.
In that moment, Christine finally understands the truth: she was never a wife--only a substitute.
Not wanting to live as a substitute any longer, she divorced her husband.
After divorce, Christine started her new life, achieving success both in career and love.
Seeing her so radiant and successful, her scumbag husband beg her to come back.
"Hazel, I know I was wrong. Please come back."
However, before Christine could respond, the country's richest man kicked him and held Christine's waist, "Who are you? Stop pestering my wife!"
His voice was cold, his presence imposing.
Christine looked at him and snorted, "When did I agree to marry you?"
"Baby, are you still angry about last night? I promise, I will be gentle next time." The man said, looking at her playfully.
Christine hit his chest playfully, her face turning red.
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Chapter 7
"Christine, you've gotten even prettier!"
Mrs. Watson immediately spotted the most striking figure in the crowd-the Wood family's niece.
Her willowy waist, long legs, and almond-shaped eyes shimmered with radiance. Her stunningly beautiful face showed not a single flaw.
The Woods and Watson families were long-standing friends. Mathew held Christine in high regard, often inviting her to their home even after her family's bankruptcy.
But ever since this girl became engaged to the then-ordinary young man from the Caffrey family, Mathew had harbored no fondness for the Caffrey surname.
He always felt the Caffrey family had snatched his granddaughter-in-law away. So at the Watson family's private banquet, how could Neil possibly receive an invitation?
Not kicking him out would already be considered polite!
Christine affectionately linked arms with Elise. "Aunt Elise, you're teasing me again."
She presented the prepared gift. "This is a small token for Grandpa Mathew."
Elise patted her hand fondly. "How thoughtful."
Then she turned to greet other guests.
"Oh my, what did Mrs. Caffrey just present? Why not let us have a look?"
Several socialites with sour expressions approached.
The speaker was Olivia Murphy, Christine's former arch-rival.
Christine's luminous eyes darkened. Ever since her family's bankruptcy, these upper-class socialites had addressed her only as Mrs. Caffrey, deliberately omitting her given name. Openly and covertly, they never missed an opportunity to mock her as a fallen phoenix.
But at the Watson family's private banquet, she didn't want to draw too much attention or burn bridges.
She restrained herself, offering only a slight nod. "It's just a small token of my appreciation. Nothing valuable-certainly nothing to compare with what Miss Murphy has given."
Olivia smirked smugly. Of course it couldn't compare! The Wood family was bankrupt-how could they possibly measure up to the Murphys?
She had always despised Christine's pretentious airs. The more dazzling Christine once was, the more wretched she was now.
Had Olivia not been cautious about attending such gatherings, she would have seized the chance to mock this woman long ago.
"True enough. After all, Mrs. Caffrey lives off her husband's money."
"I hear Mr. Caffrey's first love has miraculously returned from the dead-what fantastic news!" another young heiress remarked with thinly veiled sarcasm.
Olivia stared intently at that porcelain-smooth face, searching for even a flicker of emotion. But Christine maintained her faint smile, refusing to engage.
Olivia seethed inwardly, her desire to tear away Christine's mask growing stronger by the second.
As she lifted her gaze toward an approaching figure, the corners of her mouth curled upward. "Oh my, Mrs. Caffrey, it seems your husband's first love has arrived!"
Everyone turned to look, their eyes following her gaze. Christine's eyes glowed with a faint, eerie light.
This was her first time seeing the first love in her husband's heart in person-even more captivating than in photographs.
Before her engagement to Neil, she had heard countless tales of his love story with his first love.
What love could be more moving than separation by life and death?
Vivian stopped at a distance and spotted Christine as well.
"Oh my God, Vivian, you're actually alive!" Olivia gasped dramatically, drawing several curious glances.
Many had seen Sofia's post, but encountering Vivian in person so soon still piqued their curiosity.
"Vivian, how could rumors spread that you passed away from illness? That's outrageous!"
Vivian smiled calmly. "I did have a serious car accident abroad. My family took me to another state for treatment. I spent half a year recovering in the hospital. I have no idea how the story got twisted along the way."
The accident was real-but the death rumor? That was her doing.
She took a step toward Christine first. "You must be Mrs. Caffrey. Thank you for taking such good care of Neil all these years."
The woman who had seemed gentle moments ago now spoke with hidden barbs.
Christine scoffed. "You're welcome. From now on, Neil is yours to take care of."
The moment the words fell, the surrounding area went dead silent.
Eyes darted back and forth. What was happening? Was the legitimate wife about to clash with the former girlfriend?
That brief exchange carried explosive implications.
Olivia poured fuel on the fire. "Oh dear, Mrs. Caffrey, how could you say that? How could you let another woman take care of your husband?"
"Didn't you all see the photos yesterday?" Christine retorted. "Taking care of a rotten cucumber-doesn't that disgust you?"
"You!"
Vivian's eyes nearly shot flames. She never imagined Neil's wife would be shameless enough to bring this up in front of everyone.
"Mrs. Caffrey, please don't misunderstand. Neil and I are completely innocent! What we had is in the past. Don't read too much into it."
Her feeble defense won over many sympathizers.
"We all know what kind of person Vivian is. Christine, I advise you not to spread rumors!"
"Exactly! Vivian barely escaped death and finally returned, yet some people are so petty they can't stand to see her doing well!"
Christine didn't get angry-she laughed instead.
She pulled her phone from her silver clutch, opened the photo album, zoomed in, and thrust it in front of everyone.
"Is this the 'spotless reputation' you're talking about?"
The phone screen glowed at maximum brightness, zoomed in on the moment Vivian's pink lips pressed against Neil's face.
The crowd exchanged stunned glances and fell into silence.
Christine scanned each face, thoroughly satisfied with their expressions. "Did you get a good look? Want me to print it in full color and high definition tomorrow? I can mail a copy to each of you so you can savor this 'innocence' properly."
Vivian trembled with rage. "You. Mrs. Caffrey! What on earth are you trying to achieve by fabricating this photo?!"
"Well, well-maybe the photo is fake after all."
Christine's slender fingers flicked the screen. "What about this one? The toasting photo-is that photoshopped too? And this one? All photoshopped? Heh, and this Miss Smith here appears in the shot as well-did I photoshop her in too?"
Vivian was completely flustered. "I. I. That's not me. It really isn't me."
Christine cut her off, her voice firm and merciless.
"A mistress is a mistress. Stop pretending to be some pure, innocent white lotus!"
****
Henry and Edward arrived quite late.
Henry tilted his head. "It's pretty lively up ahead. Edward, let's go take a look."
"No."
Edward had no interest in such gatherings.
His gaze drifted casually across the room, catching a glimpse of a slender figure. Just as he was about to focus on her, an elderly man with white hair blocked his view.
"Edward, you've finally arrived."
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7.8
Alexis signed the divorce papers, leaving her with no assets, no alimony, and just the clothes on her back.
To forget her abusive husband Carlos, she got drunk and bought a high-end gigolo for the night with her last 800 dollars.
But the man she slept with wasn't an escort. He was Jarrett Hughes, a ruthless billionaire CEO.
And while she was gone, her ex-husband was busy destroying her entire life.
Carlos framed her with fake photos of her cheating to justify the penniless divorce.
Then came the real nightmare.
Carlos and her own aunt secretly drained her family's corporate accounts, driving her father to jump off a building.
At the hospital, her grieving mother blamed her for the tragedy, violently attacking her in the ER.
To top it off, her cousin Josie—who was secretly sleeping with Carlos—held her father's ashes hostage.
"Crawl on your knees and pick it up, or the ashes go in the river," Josie sneered, throwing cash into the freezing slush.
Stripped of her marriage, her father, and her dignity, Alexis sat bleeding in the snow.
She couldn't understand why the people she loved most had coordinated such a brutal slaughter against her.
But Carlos and Josie made one fatal mistake.
They didn't know the "gigolo" Alexis had accidentally bought was the most powerful man in New York.
Alexis looked at the towering billionaire standing behind her, a vengeful fire burning in her eyes.
"I need you to get my father's ashes back," she said, pulling him into a kiss right in front of her ex-husband. "I don't care what it takes."
7.7
On the third anniversary of our marriage, Adrian Griffin had a new face in his passenger seat.
This time, I, Audrey Lawson, didn't storm over to tear them apart. I didn't scream or demand explanations.
I simply went home and poured the dinner I had spent the entire afternoon preparing into the trash.
The housekeeper tried to stop me. "Mrs. Griffin, you worked all afternoon on those dishes..."
I wiped my hands, my voice flat. "It's cold. I don't want it anymore."
Not the food. Not the man I had once given up my career to marry.
I took out the divorce papers I had prepared long ago. Without hesitation, I signed my name-slowly, carefully, stroke by stroke.
Then I began packing my things. Clothes. Jewelry.
And the honors that were rightfully mine.
Adrian had no idea that every award-winning design Griffin Group had received in the past five years had come from my hand.
He had built his reputation in the industry on my work.
I dialed a number that had lain dormant for three years.
"Professor, I'm back."
From this day forward, I would reclaim everything that belonged to me.
9.7
For three years, I played the role of a devoted, naive wife to billionaire Conrad Whitney. I hid my true identity and foolishly believed in our fairy tale.
Then he handed me a harsh divorce agreement, ordering me to sign and walk away with absolutely nothing. He was leaving me to marry Cindy, the fragile woman he claimed had saved him from a fire.
He expected me to cry and beg. Instead, he watched coldly as Cindy and her family illegally transferred my father's trust fund. When I confronted them at the hospital, Conrad shielded her, calling me a greedy, toxic viper. He mocked me, completely blind to the fact that Cindy was a fraud. He truly believed I was just a pathetic, useless housewife who would be utterly destroyed without his money and status.
I looked at the man I had actually dragged out of that burning debris with my own soot-covered hands. My trauma, my sacrifices, and my love had all been reduced to a joke by his sheer arrogance and a few fake tears from a manipulative liar.
I didn't shed a single tear. I calmly signed the papers, drugged his wine, and left a crumpled one-dollar bill on his unconscious chest with a sticky note mocking his terrible service.
Then, I picked up my encrypted phone. It was time for the world's top surgeon, Dr. Hades, to return, and for Conrad to finally see the god he had just thrown away.
8.3
Adaline Whitmore becomes the price for her father's betrayal when she is forced to live under the roof of the ruthless billionaire Ronan Frost, the man who lost everything because of her family.
But neither of them knows one truth. She is the same girl who once saved him years ago.
As everything begins to change and secrets come to light, the line between punishment and desire fades. Now Ronan must choose between his need for revenge and the woman quietly stealing his heart.
9.8
When I woke up on the muddy bank of the freezing river, I unlocked a brutal, unfiltered preview of my actual future.
For the past six months, I had been the town's ultimate joke, chasing after a city boy who looked at me like a diseased insect. Everyone thought I jumped into the river because he rejected me.
But the nightmare didn't stop there. In the future I foresaw, my entire family was destroyed. My eldest brother was handcuffed and dragged into a squad car. My second brother died in a pool of blood on the asphalt. My parents passed away from sheer grief and humiliation, and our farm was foreclosed.
Meanwhile, Bart Hawkins—my family's sworn enemy, the boy everyone accused of pushing me, but who actually jumped in to save my life—became a billionaire tech mogul. I ended up starving to death in a damp, moldy basement, completely alone.
I finally understood that I was just a pathetic, tragic side character meant to drag my family into hell. My own sister-in-law, Felicie, had been stealing our food and money, laughing at my misery behind my back.
But right now, my mother was still alive, my brothers were safe, and the farm was ours.
When Felicie walked into my bedroom, playing the devoted sister-in-law with a bowl of clear, meatless broth while a stolen roasted chicken thigh leaked grease through her apron pocket, I didn't play along.
"What's in your pocket, Felicie?"
This time, I was going to tear that horrific future apart with my bare hands.
9.0
Carli followed an anonymous text to a dark garage, only to find her fiancé of seven years tangled with another woman in his Porsche.
She smashed his window, threw her engagement ring at his face, and walked away.
But the betrayal didn't stop there. Her own family sided with the cheater. Her father slapped her across the face so hard she bled, demanding she hand over her late aunt's trust fund.
"If you don't do exactly as you're told tonight, I will freeze every credit card in your name," her father roared.
Forced to attend the exclusive Gutierrez family gala, Carli watched her ex-fiancé parade his cheap mistress to humiliate her, while her stepsister tried to publicly ruin her.
Suddenly, a violent screech echoed as the massive crystal chandelier above them snapped from the ceiling.
In a split second of pure instinct, Vaughn shoved his mistress to safety and threw himself to the ground, completely abandoning Carli to be crushed.
Staring up at the plummeting glass, Carli felt the crushing reality that her entire life had been surrounded by monsters.
But the fatal impact never came.
A massive force yanked her into a hard chest, shielding her body entirely from the explosive shrapnel.
Carli opened her eyes to find Fletcher Gutierrez—the ruthless billionaire king of Wall Street and the masked stranger from her reckless one-night stand—bleeding heavily over her.
Feeling his warm blood on her hands, Carli knew the game had just changed.