Divorced By The Boss I Slept With
Arnetta had been married to a wealthy man for three years, but she had never even seen his face.
After a wild night of drinking, she woke up in a hotel room next to a handsome, ruthless stranger.
He coldly kicked her out, mocking her as just another desperate woman trying to sleep her way to the top.
To her shock, she soon discovered the stranger was Brennan Kirkland—her firm's top-tier client and a legendary Wall Street billionaire.
Hiding her true identity as a corporate spy, she manipulated her way into becoming his executive assistant to steal his data.
During a business dinner, Arnetta received a humiliating text from her absent husband, demanding a divorce and calling her a greedy parasite.
"He is a deadbeat coward who thinks money solves everything," Arnetta spat in anger.
"A man who hides behind lawyers is weak," Brennan agreed coldly.
He had absolutely no idea he was insulting his own actions, nor did he realize the wild, gold-digging wife he despised was sitting right across from him.
The next day, her husband's legal team sent a brutal twenty-million-dollar settlement offer, threatening to ruin her if she didn't take the payoff and disappear.
Staring at the degrading ultimatum, Arnetta's hands shook with blinding rage.
She looked at Brennan, who was busy plotting to destroy his own wife, and a terrifyingly calm smile touched her lips.
She wasn't just going to take the money; she was going to completely destroy him.
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Chapter 3
The private elevator glided upward with a soft, mechanical hum.
Arnetta watched the digital floor indicator climb higher and higher. Her stomach tightened with every passing second. She adjusted her black-rimmed glasses, making sure they sat perfectly on the bridge of her nose. She smoothed down the front of her shapeless gray jacket.
The elevator chimed. The metal doors slid open.
Arnetta stepped out. The difference between the junior bullpen and the top floor was staggering. The air up here was cool and smelled of expensive leather and citrus polish. Her cheap heels sank into the thick, sound-absorbing carpet. The walls were lined with modern art encased in glass.
She walked down the wide, silent corridor. At the end of the hall stood a massive set of double walnut doors.
Arnetta approached the doors, her grip tightening on the red Kirkland file.
Before she could reach the handle, a woman stepped into her path.
It was Alexis Ware, Vanguard's senior executive. Alexis wore a sharp, tailored suit. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a flawless ponytail. She looked Arnetta up and down, her eyes lingering on the cheap gray suit with obvious disdain.
"You are lost," Alexis said, her voice dripping with condescension. "The mailroom is in the basement."
Arnetta did not flinch. She held up the red folder.
"I am not lost," Arnetta said evenly. "I am here to deliver the preliminary modeling for the Kirkland Industries merger."
Alexis scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "A junior analyst? Absolutely not. Hand me the file and get back to your cubicle before I have security escort you out."
Arnetta tightened her grip on the folder. "My manager authorized me to deliver this directly to the client."
Alexis reached out to snatch the file. "I said, give it to me."
Before Alexis's fingers could touch the cardboard, the heavy walnut doors clicked open.
"What is the problem out here?"
The deep, resonant voice sent a violent shiver down Arnetta's spine. Her breath caught in her throat.
Brennan Kirkland stood in the doorway.
He wore a custom-tailored navy suit that fit his broad shoulders perfectly. He had one hand casually tucked into his trouser pocket. He looked exactly as he had in the hotel room, radiating an aura of absolute dominance and control.
Brennan's gaze swept over Alexis and landed directly on Arnetta.
Arnetta's spine went rigid. Her fingernails dug into the cardboard folder. She stared back at him through her thick glasses, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Brennan's dark eyes locked onto hers. For two agonizing seconds, the air between them vanished. A flicker of dark amusement crossed his eyes. He recognized her. He knew exactly who she was beneath the terrible clothes.
But his face remained a mask of cold indifference.
"She is a junior analyst, Mr. Kirkland," Alexis said quickly, trying to regain control of the situation. "She is confused about protocol. I will take the file."
Brennan ignored Alexis completely. He kept his eyes fixed on Arnetta.
"Bring the file here," Brennan commanded. His voice was flat, betraying nothing.
Alexis reached out again, assuming the order was for her.
Arnetta sidestepped Alexis entirely. She walked straight up to Brennan, stopping mere inches from his chest. The scent of his cologne hit her, bringing back a visceral flash of the hotel bed. Her stomach flipped.
She held the red folder out to him.
Brennan reached for it. As he took the file, his long fingers deliberately brushed against hers.
The physical contact was like a spark of static electricity. The heat of his skin burned against her cold fingertips.
Arnetta yanked her hand back as if she had been burned. She shoved her hand into her jacket pocket, her fingers curling into a tight fist.
Brennan's lips twitched upward into a microscopic smirk. He opened the folder and flipped through her financial models. His eyes scanned the numbers with terrifying speed.
He closed the folder with a sharp snap.
"Alexis," Brennan said, not looking away from Arnetta. "I need a new executive assistant."
Alexis blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Sir, we have a pool of highly qualified candidates from Ivy League-"
"I don't want them," Brennan interrupted. He raised the red folder and pointed the corner of it directly at Arnetta's chest. "I want her."
Alexis's eyes widened in shock. "Mr. Kirkland, she is a junior analyst with zero administrative experience. She is entirely unqualified for-"
"I decline," Arnetta cut in, her voice sharp.
Both Brennan and Alexis looked at her.
"I am an analyst," Arnetta said, forcing her voice to remain steady. "I belong in the analytics department. I have no interest in being an assistant."
Brennan took a slow step forward. The sheer physical presence of him forced Arnetta to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact.
He leaned down, his face inches from hers. He lowered his voice so only she could hear.
"You don't get to decline," Brennan whispered, his tone laced with a dark threat. "You work for me now. Or you don't work in this city at all."
Arnetta's jaw clenched so hard her teeth ached. She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to slap the arrogant look off his face. But the mission flashed in her mind. Ira needed her on the top floor. She needed access to Vanguard's core secrets.
She swallowed the bitter taste of humiliation. She forced her tense muscles to relax.
"Fine," Arnetta said through gritted teeth.
Brennan straightened up, his expression instantly shifting back to a cold, corporate mask. He turned to Alexis.
"Get my legal team on the phone immediately," Brennan ordered.
Alexis scrambled to pull out her tablet. "Yes, sir. Regarding the merger?"
"No," Brennan said, his voice turning vicious. "Regarding my divorce."
Arnetta stood perfectly still, her face blank.
"Tell the lawyers to draft the most aggressive settlement possible," Brennan continued, his tone dripping with venom. "That wild, party-girl wife of mine has been bleeding my accounts dry for three years. I want her cut off. Completely. Make sure she walks away with absolutely nothing."
Arnetta listened to him tear into his wife. She felt absolutely nothing. She had no idea that the greedy, wild woman he was describing was her. She just thought he was a miserable, cruel man taking his anger out on a woman he hated.
"I want the papers on my desk by tomorrow," Brennan finished. He turned on his heel and walked back into his massive office, leaving the door open.
Alexis let out a long, stressed sigh. She turned to Arnetta, her eyes filled with venomous hatred.
"Don't think you've won anything," Alexis hissed. "He will chew you up and spit you out in a week."
Alexis pointed a perfectly manicured finger down the hall.
"Your desk is in the corner outside his door," Alexis ordered. "Get to work."
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8.1
Elinor's frail daughter, Cece, died in a sterile hospital room while waiting for her father to take her to Disney World.
But her billionaire husband, Derick, never showed up. At the exact moment Cece's heart monitor flatlined, the hospital TV broadcasted Derick affectionately holding the hand of his mistress and he has booked a clearance of the entire Disneyland to celebrate mistress's daughter's birthday!.
When Elinor confronted Derick with their daughter's ashes, he sneered and accused her of hiding the child just to get his attention. Elinor's heart was torn to shreds. How could a father be so blind and ruthless? Did Kamryn use his power to steal the very kidney that belonged to Cece? Why did her innocent baby have to die for their sick affair?
The suffocating grief inside Elinor finally crystallized into a sharp blade. She wiped the blood from her lips, canceled the simple divorce, and began her ruthless revenge.
7.4
I was a broke clinic doctor drowning in debt, so I took a confidential job to evaluate a billionaire heir's fertility.
I marched into the VIP ICU, pinned the struggling patient down, and injected a sedative. I finished the extraction and loudly declared to the family lawyer that the Holt heir was completely sterile.
But then, a chilling laugh echoed from the doorway.
The real heir, Jarrod Holt, the tyrant of Wall Street, stepped in. I had just sterilized his younger brother right in front of him.
Facing a decade in federal prison, I was completely at his mercy. To make things worse, my arrogant ex-boyfriend tried to publicly humiliate me, and my greedy uncle threatened to burn my dead mother's belongings for ransom. I was pushed to the absolute brink of ruin.
But instead of destroying me, Jarrod offered a terrifying lifeline. He bought out a Manhattan high-rise in five minutes just to ruin my ex, then handed me a marriage contract.
I was terrified and deeply confused. Why would this ruthless billionaire force a nobody into a fake marriage? He knew details about my past that no one should know. Did he discover my hidden identity as 'E', the underground surgeon the entire medical world was hunting for?
With my back against the wall, I signed the prenuptial agreement.
"I do," I whispered at City Hall.
He shoved his heavy, antique family ring onto my finger. It was supposed to be strictly business with absolutely no physical contact, but when his lips crashed violently onto mine, I knew I had just sold my soul to the devil.
7.0
Eleanore thought her fiancé, Johan, was her only salvation after her family went bankrupt.
But at a high-society gala, he handed her a drugged glass of water. As the unnatural heat burned through her veins, the horrific truth hit her. Johan had isolated her and controlled her finances, all while secretly getting engaged to a wealthy heiress. He drugged Eleanore to ruin her completely, planning to lock her away as his helpless, secret mistress.
Desperate and losing her mind to the drug, Eleanore fled down the hallway. With Johan and his bodyguards hunting her, she stumbled into the dark presidential suite.
But she wasn't alone. Sitting on the leather sofa was Alexander Briggs—the most feared corporate raider on Wall Street, and Johan's exiled brother.
Outside the door, Johan was screaming, ready to drag her back to hell.
"I can be your antidote. But it's going to cost you."
The ruthless billionaire looked at her trembling body with cold calculation. He offered her a staggering deal: a three-month fake marriage to destroy Johan's empire, and in return, absolute protection and her father's massive debts paid in full.
She couldn't understand why the most powerful predator in New York would use a ruined girl as his weapon, but she knew she would rather die than let Johan touch her again.
When Johan finally broke down the door to claim his prey, Alexander calmly pulled Eleanore into his arms.
"Watch your mouth. You are speaking to my future wife."
9.0
For a whole year, April believed her billionaire husband, Bartholomew, abandoned her in Europe the day after their arranged wedding. She hated him so much she drunkenly prayed for his death at a club.
But he suddenly returned that very night, catching her red-handed. Instead of a divorce, he trapped her, threatening to bankrupt her bloodsucking family unless she moved into his penthouse to play the devoted wife.
Forced to comply, she attended a dinner with her toxic family. Her stepmother deliberately served her lobster—knowing April had a fatal allergy.
"Eat up, darling. I know hospital food is dreadful."
When April refused and exposed their massive gambling debts, her furious father raised his hand to strike her across the face.
But it was Bartholomew, the ruthless tyrant she despised, who caught her father's arm and snapped his wrist.
"If you ever try to touch my wife again, I will erase your family by sunrise."
April was completely stunned. Why was he defending her with such murderous rage? And why did he keep a cheap paper airplane she had made at age six preserved under a glass dome in his study?
The answer came that night. When Bartholomew stepped out of the shower, April saw the massive, jagged surgical scar sliced directly over his heart. He hadn't run away; he had been fighting for his life on an operating table. Staring at the man who had silently survived just to come back to her, April made her choice. She was going to uncover the truth behind his surgery and their past.
9.1
On our fourth wedding anniversary, I prepared a perfect home-cooked dinner for my husband, Carlisle.
But the moment he walked in, he threw a marital settlement agreement right onto the table.
"Sign it. Celine is back. There's no place for you here anymore."
His mother and sister immediately marched in to supervise my packing, calling me a barren gold-digger and trying to smash my late mother's only keepsake.
I signed the papers and walked out into the freezing night, thinking the nightmare was finally over.
But the next day, a heavily edited video of a childhood friend helping me into his car went viral online.
Carlisle's PR team released a public statement branding me a cheating wife, completely destroying my reputation.
He let the world tear me apart, using my ruined name to play the victim and justify bringing his first love home.
I had sacrificed my own dreams and endured his family's endless abuse for four years, only to be discarded like trash and framed for the exact emotional cheating he had been doing all along.
Watching the vile comments flood my screen, my heartbreak hardened into pure, unbreakable ice.
I calmly picked up my phone and dialed my father's number.
"Dad, it's time. I want to come home and take over Mcneil Industries."
8.7
Adelia thought she was just heading upstairs to rest in the hotel suite arranged by her caring stepsister.
But her champagne had been heavily drugged. In the pitch-black room, her rational thoughts melted away as she was violently pulled into the darkness by a terrifying stranger.
The next morning, the heavy suite door was kicked open, and blinding camera flashes shattered her world.
Her fiancé stormed in, hurling their prenuptial agreement directly at her bleeding cheek.
"You make me sick! Violating our agreement like this. You are a disgusting, unfaithful whore!"
Her stepsister squeezed to the front of the crowd, crying perfectly rehearsed tears of horror for the tabloid reporters, while her eyes gleamed with pure, unadulterated triumph.
Desperate and trembling, Adelia begged her father for help, explaining she had been framed.
But her father, the family CEO, only cared about his plummeting stock prices. He coldly stripped her of her inheritance, froze her trust funds, and had massive security guards physically drag her out of Manhattan.
She hadn't just been betrayed; she had been completely slaughtered by the people she loved most. As the elevator plummeted toward the lobby, her tears dried into a bloody, silent vow.
Six years later, Adelia stepped out of JFK Airport, flanked by her terrifyingly smart six-year-old twins.
She was no longer a disgraced, pathetic victim. She had returned as a legendary, untouchable ghost surgeon, ready to rip her family's empire apart.
And her very first move involves saving the life of the ruthless Wall Street predator who ruined her that night.