Rich Scumbag Husband? I'll Take the Divorce

Over the past few years, I'd been working myself to the bone at Swanson Group during the day, just so that I could be a good wife to Justin. When I got home at night, I would still have to wait on him and Kayla, hand and foot. They were picky devils.

I was just in my early 30s, and yet, my hair was already graying at the roots.

Indeed, I looked a lot older because of that.

I turned and went back to my room to pack up my few measly belongings. I was already planning where to go to relax as soon as I got the money.

I didn't expect Justin to come in after me.

"It's late. You don't have to leave immediately. Why don't you just leave tomorrow instead?

"Don't I have an empty villa in Weston? You can stay there for the time being. I'll come and visit you whenever I have the time. I know you still love me, Tamara. Stop acting difficult."

He then seemed to recall something and grinned affectionately.

"However, I really can't let you have the title of 'Mrs. Swanson' anymore. I refuse to let my child bear the stigma of being called an illegitimate child as soon as they're born."

I didn't answer him. Instead, I picked up my suitcase and walked straight to the door.

"I don't have anything to say to you. It's my pleasure to be divorced from you. If you still want to show that you care, then kindly send me the alimony as soon as possible."

The winter wind was cold against my face, chilling me to the bone, but it still wasn't enough to put out the blazing fire in my chest.

…

Justin was as efficient as ever. When I woke up the next morning, I realized that a sum of three billion dollars had been transferred into my account.

I took the money and went straight to the most luxurious spa and wellness center in Cornton. I booked a complete package. It included a hair styling appointment, a full-body spa session, and a massage.

The haggard, gray-haired woman in the mirror was gone. It was now replaced by a beautiful young woman with striking red hair and clear, sharp eyes.

I'd only just changed back into my clothes when my best friend, Melanie Gilbert, suddenly called me.

The first thing she did was scream and squeal directly into my ear.

"Tamara Baldwin! What's happened between you and Justin? Is the world going crazy? Am I going crazy?"

I held the phone away from my ear and asked lazily, "What's the matter?"

"What do you mean by that! Don't you follow the news?" Melanie squealed incredulously. "Photos of Justin and that side bitch of his made headlines!

"He brought her to some event last night in public! He also told all of the media there that that bitch was his one and only wife and that they were getting married soon!

"And your damn in-laws agreed wholly with him and said that the bitch was worth it!"

She then lowered her voice and asked me in concern, "Are you alright, though, Tammy?"

The public recognition that I'd always yearned for from Justin evaded me for the entirety of my past life. However, he was giving it to Kayla so easily.

"I'm fine," I said, checking myself out in the mirror. I continued nonchalantly, "We're divorced."

"D-Divorced?"

Melanie refused to believe me. She'd witnessed me love Justin for more than a whole decade, after all. She often felt angry and frustrated on my behalf because I was sacrificing so much of myself and behaving like a loyal lapdog without ever getting anything in return in the relationship.

I didn't bother explaining further and chuckled lightly.

"Are you free tonight? Let's go get some drinks. My treat."

That night, we went to the glitziest and most extravagant bar in Cornton. The booths around us were all bubbling over with the most expensive Ace of Spades champagne.

A number of handsome male escorts sat around me, attentively and eagerly pouring drinks for me.

Melanie watched with wide eyes.

"Damn. I believe you now. You're totally over him. You never used to be like this in the past."

In the past, I used to want to prove to Justin that I wasn't after his money by always comparing prices and buying the cheaper alternative with more value for money. I didn't want him to think that I was just squandering away his money without taking care of the household.

Now, I was seated in the VIP booths while looking at my reflection on the glass. My hair was bold and red. I was wearing a perfectly tailored haute couture dress. It somehow felt a little strange yet familiar to see myself like that.

Melanie raised her glass and clinked it with mine.

"You're finally more reminiscent of how you used to be known—the legendary genius school beauty from Alberton College's School of Finance."

She took a huge gulp of champagne and began complaining indignantly on my behalf.

"Do you know how many venture capitalists were falling over their feet to try and get you? If you'd started your own company, you would have crushed the Swansons a long time ago!"