Reborn Heiress: Divorcing The Ruthless Billionaire

The heavy oak door clicked shut. Alondra didn't look back.

She walked out of the luxury building and raised her hand. A yellow cab pulled over immediately.

"Long Island," she told the driver, sliding into the cracked leather seat.

An hour later, the cab pulled up to the grand entrance of a high-end luxury hotel. The doorman tipped his hat and opened her door.

Alondra walked straight to the front desk. She pulled out a black credit card-the one linked to her personal trust fund, completely separate from the Arnold accounts.

"Your best suite," she told the clerk.

Once inside the massive room, she stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower. She turned the water as hot as she could stand. The scalding spray turned her skin pink, washing away the lingering scent of Gerard's cologne.

She stepped out, dried off, and put on a sharp, tailored black business suit she had packed.

She sat down in the leather chair by the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the ocean. She picked up her phone and dialed a Manhattan number.

An hour later, she pushed open the glass doors of a top-tier family law firm in Midtown.

A senior partner handed her a cup of black coffee across a polished mahogany desk. "What are your terms, Ms. Lang?"

Alondra took a sip. The bitter liquid burned her tongue.

"Strict enforcement of the prenuptial agreement," Alondra said. "I waive all rights to alimony. I want zero dollars from the Arnold estate. I just want the marriage dissolved as fast as legally possible."

The lawyer blinked, stunned by her bluntness. He quickly turned to his computer and began typing furiously.

Twenty minutes later, the printer spit out a thick stack of papers. The terms were brutal, leaving no room for negotiation or reconciliation.

Alondra flipped to the last page. She grabbed a pen and signed her name with aggressive, sweeping strokes.

"Send this to Gerard's office immediately," Alondra instructed, sliding the papers back. "Hand-deliver it to him."

Across the city, in the top-floor boardroom of the Arnold Global building, the air was suffocatingly tense.

Gerard sat at the head of the long glass table. His face was a mask of cold fury as he listened to a terrified VP give a quarterly report.

The heavy boardroom doors opened. Leland Vance, Gerard's executive assistant, hurried in. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

Leland walked up to Gerard and leaned down, handing him a thick manila envelope with a law firm's logo stamped on the front.

Gerard frowned. He ripped the seal open and pulled out the document.

The words "Divorce Agreement" stared back at him.

His pupils contracted. He flipped directly to the back page. There it was. Alondra's signature. Crisp. Unhesitating.

The executives around the table stopped talking. They exchanged nervous glances as the temperature in the room plummeted.

A hot, irrational anger flared in Gerard's chest. She was actually trying to push his limits. She thought this piece of paper would make him chase her.

He scoffed. He grabbed the thick stack of papers with both hands.

With a violent jerk, he ripped the entire document in half. The loud tearing sound echoed sharply in the silent room.

He threw the shredded pieces into the metal trash can by his feet.

He turned his glaring eyes to Leland. "If that firm sends anything else, reject it at the front desk."

"Yes, sir," Leland stammered, taking a step back and wiping his brow.

Gerard turned his attention back to the VP, but the words blurred. His mind kept flashing back to the image of Alondra pulling that suitcase out the door.

He yanked at his tie, loosening it roughly. He slammed his palm flat against the glass table.

"Meeting suspended," Gerard snapped.