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 9
Christine hadn't expected to be lifted by a stranger in front of so many people. She instantly sprang away.
"Sorry-thank you," she murmured softly.
The smooth warmth that had slipped through his fingers vanished in an instant, leaving Edward with a faint pang of loss.
He raised an eyebrow, a subtle, ambiguous smile playing at his lips. "You're welcome."
Mathew beamed as he pulled Christine close. "Christine, I received your gift. You're so thoughtful-I adore it. You're far kinder to me than my ungrateful grandchildren ever are."
Several grandsons looked up at the ceiling with resentment. Why did they always end up being the ones getting hurt?
"By the way, Christine," Mathew added, "this gentleman is acquainted with your father. You should know him too, right?"
Christine's eyes snapped up, unexpectedly meeting the man's deep, intense gaze. Uneasy, she instinctively turned her head away.
"Grandpa Mathew, I. don't know him. Father had many friends back then. I've only heard his name-I don't actually know him."
Karl loved socializing, but he never forced his daughter to attend those glamorous banquets. He hoped she would always keep a pure heart-that was enough.
Edward's jaw tightened. His magnetic voice carried a subtle, seductive timbre. "Hello. I'm Edward Robinson. I have long admired Uncle Woods. So you are his daughter. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
The man who was usually the center of attention now adopted an unexpectedly humble demeanor, catching Mathew off guard.
Mathew chuckled softly. "Indeed. Karl always loved making friends. It's only natural you wouldn't know him, Christine. But now you do."
"Edward is in his thirties now, isn't he? Christine should address you as Uncle Edward."
By family seniority, Edward was the younger son of his old comrade-calling him Uncle was perfectly appropriate.
Edward's expression darkened. His lips pressed into a straight line. "Uncle Mathew, I am only thirty this year."
His blue eyes lingered on the woman nearly a head shorter than him, resting briefly on her fair face before his lips curved faintly. "Just call me Edward."
Christine's heart skipped a beat.
This guy was way too forward!
She forced a polite smile. "I'll stick with calling you Mr. Robinson."
Edward let out a light snort. "Fine. Whatever you say."
For some reason, Christine detected a hint of disappointment in his tone.
She shook her head inwardly. Snap out of it. A man like him was far out of her league.
Neil had gone to great lengths to get in tonight-just to see this man.
Christine wanted nothing more than to escape this whirlpool of trouble. Besides, the man standing next to Edward was clearly Mr. Thompson-the one she had hired.
She dreaded the moment Henry might speak to her. Fortunately, he hadn't addressed her once throughout the entire event. Even so, his meaningful gaze alone was enough to make her cheeks burn crimson, and she longed to leave as soon as possible.
*****
"Smack-"
A crisp slap echoed through the silent garden.
Vivian bit her lower lip hard, clutching the side of her face where her stepmother's hand had struck her.
"You've really made me proud today!"
"Vivian, remember your place," Victoria snapped. "Being allowed to live in the Barnes household is already a privilege. Don't covet what isn't yours, and don't think that just because your father married into this family, you've suddenly become part of the upper class!"
Vivian lowered her gaze, concealing the hatred festering in her heart.
"I'm sorry, Mother. I know I was wrong."
Victoria folded her arms, her eyes brimming with scorn. "Don't you remember how you came back to this country? Without me, you'd be someone else's plaything right now."
Vivian's palms turned red from how tightly she clenched them, yet her expression remained utterly unreadable.
"Yes. My return to the country is entirely thanks to you."
Victoria chuckled lightly. "Good. It's good you understand. Go home by yourself today. Save me the embarrassment of seeing you again."
After watching Victoria leave, Vivian's expression twisted into something almost grotesque.
A girl who had come out to look for her froze when she saw Vivian's face. "Vivian. are you okay?"
Why did Vivian look so terrifying? The gentle angel seemed to have darkened in an instant.
Vivian composed herself, pressing her lips together. "Mia, I'll head back now. We'll reschedule another time."
Truthfully, she never wanted to see that idiot again for the rest of her life.
"All right, all right!" Mia didn't dare insist. Vivian's sudden change in demeanor had sent chills down her spine.
So terrifying. Who would have thought such a sweet girl had this side to her?
*****
After receiving Mathew's concerned message, Christine quickly excused herself and fled the banquet.
But Sky Castle wasn't in the city center. The guests attending were either wealthy or influential, and she soon found herself unable to hail a cab.
Seeing that no drivers accepted her ride request on the app, she decided to walk instead.
The night was silent, shrouded in darkness. A misty drizzle fell, sending chills through her thin evening gown.
In the distance, headlights pierced the curtain of rain.
A black Rolls-Royce slowly approached and came to a stop.
The window rolled down. Henry waved. "Miss Wood, it's hard to get a cab here. I'll give you a ride."
Christine was startled. She hadn't expected Henry to be leaving early as well.
"No need, Mr. Thompson. I should be able to hail one if I walk a bit farther."
He remained firm, his gaze gentle. "No need for formalities, Miss Wood. I actually have something regarding your case that I'd like to discuss."
With him phrasing it that way, Christine had no choice but to agree.
"I have things in the front passenger seat," Henry added. "You can sit in the back."
As Christine lifted her leg to step into the backseat, she unexpectedly bumped into a solid shoulder.
She froze. How could someone else be sitting in the back?
As she took in his flawless features, she realized the man behind her was none other than Edward.
"Careful," his thin lips brushed past her earlobe, his breath scorching. "This is the second time."
Christine instantly lowered her head, her cheeks burning.
The memory of him catching her earlier surged back, flushing her face with embarrassment.
From the driver's seat, Henry watched the entire scene through the rearview mirror. His shameless friend had deliberately shifted outward before she even got in.
This bastard had done it on purpose.
Absolutely shameless.
"Where do you live, Miss Wood?" Henry asked.
Christine hesitated. Returning to the villa tonight would undoubtedly mean being driven insane by Neil and his entire family.
"Green Lake, please."
The three rode in silence.
Henry had merely used the case as an excuse to get her into the car; naturally, he didn't discuss it during the drive.
Edward sat quietly in the backseat, his expression unreadable.
Only Christine suffered in silence, desperate for the ride to end.
When they finally neared her destination, she let out a small sigh of relief. Her voice lightened. "I'm here. Thank you for today, Mr. Thompson."
Just as she prepared to step out, a lazy, deep voice sounded from behind her.
"I was friends with your Uncle Woods," Edward said. "Miss Wood, please leave me your contact information. If you ever need assistance in the future, you may reach out to me."
He handed her his phone.
Christine lowered her gaze to the softly glowing QR code and fell silent.
After a moment, she nodded. "All right. Thank you, Mr. Robinson."
Edward caught her unease and offered a faint smile. "You're welcome."
Watching Christine's retreating figure, Edward's lingering gaze refused to withdraw.
"Sir, may I drive now?" Henry asked, speechless.
Edward pulled his gaze away. "Go ahead."
Henry fumed inwardly. Hmph! You really do think I'm your chauffeur!
Edward absentmindedly fiddled with his lighter. "We should be home soon."
His gaze immediately fixed on his contacts list. When the adorable orange cat avatar appeared, the corners of his mouth lifted involuntarily.
"Got any pics of your cat? Send me one."
"What?" Henry unlocked his phone and tossed it to Edward in the backseat, puzzled. "Browse the album yourself. Didn't you say you didn't like animals?"
Edward quickly selected his favorite photo and swapped it out.
"I like them now."
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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.