Reborn Heiress: Divorcing The Ruthless Billionaire
Alondra spent three hours making soup for her husband, only to find him at the hospital tenderly holding another woman's hand.
"I'm four weeks pregnant, Gerard," the woman said softly.
Gerard coldly handed Alondra a divorce agreement, claiming their three-year marriage was just a placeholder because this woman had once saved his life.
Heartbroken, Alondra fled in her car, only to realize her brakes had been completely disabled.
She spun out of control and crashed head-on into a massive delivery truck.
As she lay trapped in the mangled wreckage with her ribs crushed and blood filling her mouth, Gerard's black Maybach pulled up to the curb.
He stared at her dying body through the window with a completely blank expression.
He didn't call an ambulance or even open his door.
He simply rolled up his tinted window and drove away into the rain.
A raw, suffocating hatred burned in her chest, hotter than the pain in her shattered bones.
She couldn't understand how the man she had loved and served so devotedly could just coldly watch her die like a piece of trash.
Opening her eyes again, Alondra gasped for air.
She had returned to the exact morning two years ago, right before she was supposed to deliver that pathetic soup.
When Gerard walked in and threatened her with divorce, she didn't cry or beg.
"I agree. Let's divorce," she said calmly, packing her bags to reclaim her true identity as a billionaire heiress.
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Chapter 2
Alondra threw off the duvet. Her bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor.
She ran to the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the walk-in closet.
The woman staring back at her was twenty-four. Her skin was flawless. There were no bruises, no cuts, no blood.
She pinched the soft skin of her forearm. Hard.
A sharp sting radiated up her arm. It wasn't a dream. The pain was real. The air in her lungs was real.
A loud bang echoed through the room.
The heavy bedroom door was shoved open, hitting the wall behind it.
Gerard stood in the doorway. He wore a perfectly tailored charcoal suit. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes held that same familiar, freezing disgust.
He tugged at his tie, a gesture he always made when she annoyed him.
"Why the hell did you call Cecil last night?" Gerard demanded. His voice was a low growl. "Are you out of your mind?"
Hearing that name sent a jolt of pure adrenaline through Alondra's veins. The memory of the crushed Porsche and his cold stare through the Maybach window flashed in her mind.
She didn't cry. She didn't beg.
She just stared at him. Her face was completely devoid of emotion.
Gerard frowned. His brow furrowed slightly. He stepped further into the room. This wasn't her usual reaction. He expected tears. He expected a hysterical apology.
"If you ever harass her again," Gerard warned, pointing a finger at her, "I will end this marriage immediately."
Alondra's lips twitched. A short, dry laugh escaped her throat.
"I agree," Alondra said. Her voice was steady and clear. "Let's divorce."
Gerard froze. His hand dropped to his side. He stared at her, waiting for the punchline.
When she didn't take it back, a sneer curled his upper lip.
"Is this your new game?" Gerard scoffed. "You think threatening me will get my attention? Fine. Play your little game. Get the hell out of my apartment."
Alondra turned her back on him.
She walked over to the top shelf of the closet and yanked down a black leather suitcase. It hit the floor with a heavy thud.
She unzipped it. She grabbed a handful of her basic t-shirts, jeans, and a few business suits. She tossed them inside.
She walked right past the velvet display cases holding the diamond necklaces Gerard had bought her. She ignored the row of custom haute couture dresses.
Gerard watched her fluid, efficient movements. The sneer on his face slowly stiffened.
"You won't last a day outside without the Arnold name," Gerard mocked. His voice was louder now.
Alondra grabbed the zipper and pulled it shut. The sharp metallic sound cut off his words.
She grabbed the handle, popped it up, and walked over to him. She looked at him the way one looks at a dead rat on the sidewalk.
"My lawyer will contact you on Monday," Alondra said.
She walked past him, her shoulder brushing his arm, and headed straight for the living room.
Arthur, the head butler, was standing by the marble kitchen island, arranging white lilies in a vase. He dropped a stem when he saw her dragging the suitcase.
"Mrs. Arnold?" Arthur stammered. "Are you leaving? Should I call the driver?"
Alondra stopped. She offered the old man a polite smile.
"Goodbye, Arthur," she said. "And please, don't call me Mrs. Arnold anymore."
Gerard stormed out of the bedroom. He stood at the end of the hallway, his face flushed dark red.
"If you walk out that door, you are never coming back!" Gerard roared. His fists were clenched at his sides.
Alondra didn't even break her stride.
She reached the heavy oak front door, pulled the handle, and stepped out into the private elevator lobby.
She let the door slam shut behind her. The massive boom echoed in the hallway, cutting off Gerard's voice completely.
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7.6
After an exhausting fourteen-hour flight, Katia returned to her Upper East Side penthouse, expecting the quiet comfort of the life she had built.
Instead, she found a pair of familiar red stilettos in the foyer and her fiancé, Caleb, tangled in their bedsheets with his twenty-two-year-old assistant.
She didn't scream or cry. She simply took off her three-carat engagement ring, threw it at his bare chest, and demanded he buy out her half of the penthouse by Friday.
Seeking to numb the sickening disgust, she got blackout drunk and crashed at a luxury hotel, accidentally stumbling into the wrong suite.
Thinking the imposing man inside was a high-end escort hired by her friend, she threw him over her shoulder and spent a wild night with him.
The next morning, she left five thousand dollars on his nightstand with a lipstick-stained note.
"Good Job."
For six years, she had funded Caleb's dreams and built his startup from the ground up, only to be treated like a lifeless ATM.
With ruthless precision, she spent the next two months systematically bankrupting his company, cutting off his venture capital, and erasing his life's work.
She felt no heartbreak, only a cold, calculating need to cleanse herself of his betrayal.
But when Katia finally returned to corporate headquarters to co-lead a massive merger, she literally crashed into the new Vice President.
Strong arms caught her waist, and the sharp scent of cedarwood and whiskey hit her like a freight train.
"You came back," Jackson whispered, his eyes burning as he stared at the woman who had treated him like a cheap gigolo.
7.6
Isolde Mitchell knew her wealthy husband was cheating on her, but the true nightmare began when her mother-in-law summoned her.
The older woman coldly announced that the mistress was pregnant with a boy and would be moving into their estate.
Because Isolde's family had gone bankrupt and she had only given birth to a frail daughter, she was deemed completely worthless.
When Isolde packed her bags and demanded a divorce, her husband Clark just laughed.
He threatened to use their ironclad prenup to leave her penniless and take full custody of her daughter just to torture her.
To make matters worse, he forced Isolde to secure a failing business deal with the ruthless billionaire Jacques Valdez, essentially ordering her to sell her body to get the signature.
"If you fail, you will never see Bria again."
He even sent his goons to snatch the little girl from her preschool to prove his point.
Isolde was completely cornered, trembling with a mix of rage and absolute despair.
How could the man she married be such a monster? She would rather die than let them destroy her daughter, but how could a bankrupt mother fight a powerful dynasty with absolutely nothing?
Out of options, she looked at the private business card the terrifying billionaire Jacques had unexpectedly given her daughter.
Swallowing her pride, she decided to make a deal with the devil himself, ready to use his power to tear her husband's family apart.
9.7
Eliana Rivera is the firstborn daughter of business tycoon Cassian Rivera. When her father's company falls into debt, he marries her off to the arrogant and ruthless billionaire, Alexander Grayson, as part of a business contract and under the threat of blackmail.
Alexander, the billionaire CEO, never planned to marry, but the pressure of blackmail forces him into a union with a woman he barely knows. Although Eliana doesn't see Alexander as her ideal partner, she agrees to the marriage out of a sense of duty.
Once engaged, however, he barely acknowledges her presence and harbours disdain for her because of her father's actions and their relationship. But as they navigate their newfound relationship, the unexpected desire for each other's touch ignites-a twist neither of them planned, leading them toward an unforeseen love.
8.8
I was the despised adopted daughter of the Sanders family, hiding behind heavy gothic makeup and enduring their daily disgust.
The day my adoptive father died in a severe car crash, my adoptive mother and stepsister didn't even bother to call me.
Instead, while his body was still warm, my mother filed a multi-million dollar life insurance claim.
"I am not feeding a useless freak for another day. Pack your trash and get out."
She kicked me out into the freezing rain, but that wasn't the worst of it.
My stepsister Cornelia stole my greatest secret. Five years ago, I saved the life of Fidel Vaughan, a ruthless billionaire heir, from a burning estate.
Cornelia claimed my identity, accepted a million-dollar reward, and secured a marriage proposal from him, burning my only proof to ashes.
They thought I was just a helpless, pathetic high schooler they could discard and replace.
But when I hacked the police files, I discovered my father's crash wasn't an accident. It was a targeted hit, and the Vaughan Group had hijacked the traffic cameras to cover it up.
I washed off the ugly black makeup, shedding the disguise of a pathetic outcast.
I am Spectre, the world's most elusive hacker and underground doctor.
I intercepted the billionaire heir's heavily armed convoy in the dead of night. They thought they could steal my life and murder my father, but now, I hold the needle that controls Fidel Vaughan's sanity, and I will make them all pay.
7.6
I am the illegitimate, mute daughter of the wealthy Owen family, kept hidden in the attic like a shameful secret.
To save his failing company, my father decided to sell me off to a repulsive, predatory investor named Grossman.
At the family dinner, Grossman's sweaty hands roamed my bare legs while my half-sister Kaleigh intentionally spilled red wine on my dress, laughing as she watched me suffer.
When I grabbed a steak knife to defend myself, my father slammed his fist on the table.
"Sit down, or I will cut off the maintenance payments for your mother's grave."
My stepmother and sister sneered, treating me like a piece of meat meant to be sacrificed for their luxury. I was starved, locked away, and treated worse than a stray dog, all while my family paraded their high-society status to the world.
I couldn't understand why they hated me so deeply, or who really ordered the hit that killed my mother twenty years ago. The police reports were buried, and I was entirely powerless, trapped in a house of monsters.
But they didn't know that the night before, I had accidentally stumbled into the secret life of Burleigh Livingston—the ruthless, supposedly paralyzed billionaire who was faking his madness.
When Burleigh suddenly crashed our family dinner and threw a limitless Black Card on the table to outbid Grossman and buy me for the night, I didn't hesitate.
I grabbed the handles of his wheelchair, accepted his twisted deal, and prepared to use the devil himself to tear my family apart.
9.3
He was supposed to be my brother. The cold CEO everyone feared. The man who controlled the entire country's business world.
But one night, he looked at me and calmly destroyed everything I thought I knew.
"We're getting married."
I laughed, but he didn't.
Now every door in my life is closing, every choice is disappearing, and the one man I'm not supposed to love refuses to let me go.
Because to Lucien Hale, this was never forbidden. It was inevitable.
And the most terrifying part? The closer I get to him, the harder it becomes to run.