The Unwanted Wife Demands A Divorce

I married the ruthless billionaire Dorman Cannon to save my family's business. For two years, I played the perfect, invisible wife in a cold, loveless marriage. But the day my sister Cierra—his ex-fiancée—returned from Europe, the illusion shattered. A private investigator sent me a photo: Dorman walking into her hotel room at the exact time he claimed to be in a board meeting. I packed my bags and demanded a divorce. Instead of apologizing, Dorman pinned me against the bedroom wall. Right in front of me, he made a single phone call to freeze my father's credit line, instantly triggering a liquidity crisis that would bankrupt my family. "You are my wife. You are not going anywhere." He then tossed a record-breaking Cartier diamond necklace at my feet, like a pacifier for a misbehaving child. I smashed the multimillion-dollar piece to the marble floor, screaming that I wasn't just an asset on his balance sheet. But he only stared at the scattered diamonds with terrifying indifference, completely unfazed by my despair. I didn't understand. If he wanted Cierra so badly, why was he holding my family hostage just to keep me trapped in this gilded cage? Sitting on the cold floor surrounded by broken diamonds, my tears finally stopped. Since he refused to let me leave quietly, I would just have to tear his perfect empire down from the inside.

Chapters

Chapter 6

Dorman's gaze swept over her, taking in the wet hair, the damp bath towel clutched to her chest, the defiance blazing in her eyes. Then, his focus shifted past her shoulder, landing on the Louis Vuitton suitcase sitting on the bathroom floor.

His jaw tightened, a muscle feathering beneath his skin. But his expression remained otherwise blank.

Adina didn't give him time to speak. She stepped forward, forcing him to take a step back into the bedroom.

"I packed my things," she said, her voice raw but steady. "I'm leaving, Dorman. I want a divorce."

She waited for the explosion. She waited for the shock, the anger, the denial. She had just dropped a bomb on their two-year marriage, and she expected a crater.

Dorman simply looked at her. Then, without a word, he turned his back and walked toward his walk-in closet.

The dismissal was worse than a shout. It was a vacuum, sucking the air right out of the room. Adina stood frozen, the towel suddenly feeling flimsy and inadequate.

"Are you deaf?" she yelled, chasing after him. She planted herself in the doorway of the closet, blocking his path. "I said I'm leaving you!"

Dorman was unbuttoning his cuffs, his movements slow and methodical. He didn't even glance at her. "I heard you."

"Then what the hell is this?" Adina gestured wildly at his nonchalance. "You act like I just told you I'm changing my shampoo!"

He pulled the cufflinks from his shirt, setting them on the velvet tray with a soft click. "Adina, you had a bad day. Don't mistake your insecurity for a valid grievance."

"Insecure?" The word was a slap. "This isn't about insecurity! This is about you and Cierra-"

"Stop." He cut her off, his voice dropping to that dangerous, low register that always made her skin prickle. He turned to face her, his eyes hard and unyielding. "Stop this dramatic performance. What is it you actually want? A new Birkin? The apartment in Paris? Just tell me the price and stop wasting my time."

Adina recoiled as if she had been struck. The air left her lungs in a sharp gasp. He thought this was a shakedown. He thought her pain was just a negotiation tactic.

"I don't want your money," she spat, her voice shaking with fury. "I want out. I want a divorce, and I want what I'm entitled to."

Dorman paused. A slow, cold smile touched the corners of his mouth, completely devoid of humor. "Entitled? Have you forgotten the prenuptial agreement you signed? You walk away, you get exactly what you came in with. Nothing more."

He took a step toward her. The sheer size of him, the oppressive force of his presence, forced her to step back into the bedroom.

"And let's not forget," he continued, his voice silky and menacing, "your father's company is currently surviving on a line of credit extended by Cannon Industries. You push this divorce, that credit line disappears. Ayers Group goes under. Your parents lose everything. Is that what you want?"

The threat hung in the air between them, toxic and paralyzing. Adina felt the ground shift beneath her feet. He wasn't just refusing her; he was holding her family hostage.

She felt dizzy, the edges of her vision blurring. She swayed, and the towel around her chest loosened slightly.

Dorman's gaze dropped to her bare shoulder, the strap of the towel slipping down her arm. Something flickered in his eyes-something dark and intense that vanished before she could identify it.

He reached out, his fingers hovering near the edge of the towel as if to pull it back up.

Adina flinched violently, slapping his hand away. "Don't touch me!"

Dorman's hand hung in the air for a fraction of a second. Then, he pulled it back, his face resetting to that infuriating, impenetrable mask.

"Go to bed, Adina," he said, his tone final. "In the morning, the housekeeper will unpack your bag. We're done discussing this."

He turned his back on her and walked into his en-suite bathroom. The door closed with a decisive click, followed by the sound of the lock turning.

Adina stood in the middle of the bedroom, her chest heaving, her nails digging into her palms so hard she drew blood. He had dismissed her. He had threatened her. And then he had locked the door as if she were a pet that had misbehaved.

She stared at the closed door, a red haze of rage descending over her vision. He thought he had won. He thought he could just buy her off or scare her into submission.

He had no idea who he was dealing with.

Continue to next part

Alayna was working a grueling catering shift in worn-out heels to support her broke college boyfriend, Caiden, who claimed to be studying at the library. But through the crack of a VIP suite door, she saw him wearing a bespoke suit and a Patek Philippe watch, sipping expensive liquor. "It's a little poverty role-play. Keeps things interesting." He was laughing with his rich friends, mocking her as his clueless "charity case." To make matters worse, she was forced into a humiliating mascot costume just in time to watch him passionately kiss his wealthy ex-girlfriend. That same night, Alayna's mother collapsed with gastric cancer, requiring a half-million-dollar surgery. When a desperate Alayna begged Caiden for help, he refused. "Why don't you just apply for Medicaid? That's the path for people like you." For two years, she had starved herself to buy his textbooks, his tickets, and his shoes. He had stolen her sweat and her sacrifices, all for a cruel game. The sheer audacity of his betrayal made her blood run cold. When a billionaire stranger stepped in to pay her mother's medical bills in exchange for a one-year fake marriage, Alayna didn't hesitate to sign the contract. She slipped the flawless diamond ring onto her finger, opened a spreadsheet, and sent Caiden an invoice for every single cent. This time, she was going to dismantle his entire life.

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.3

Buying The Exiled Heir: He Is Mine

9.3

Alyssa Gregory slept with Benton Steele, a recently disgraced and bankrupt heir, just to humiliate him. She threw a massive check at his bare chest, treating the former prince of Wall Street like a cheap escort. But Benton didn't take the charity. Instead, he manipulated her anger, tricking her into signing an ironclad contract that surrendered absolute control of her entire trust fund to him. When her abusive mother found out she had funded a penniless outcast, she slapped Alyssa across the face. Her mother froze all her bank accounts, locked her inside her bedroom, and arranged to sell her off to a degenerate politician. Desperate to escape, Alyssa climbed down her balcony, falling fifteen feet and shattering her ankle on the stones below. Stripped of her money and freedom, she dragged her broken body to a VIP club just to publicly declare that Benton belonged to her. She thought she was the boss, playing a rebellious game with a broken man. But when Benton effortlessly carried her away from the club and locked her inside his rundown apartment, the terrifying calculation in his dark eyes shattered her illusion. How could a man stripped of his entire empire still radiate such suffocating, violent power? "You bought me," Benton whispered, his massive frame trapping her against the sofa. "That means I have to take care of you." Physically trapped and completely broke, Alyssa stared into his consuming eyes, her mind racing to find a way to turn the tables.

Action Billionaire Modern

8.8

Divorced Wife's Secret Twins: Billionaire's Regret

8.8

I discovered I was pregnant with twins from my marriage to Ell Steele, the ruthless CEO of the Steele Group. But he saw me as a gold-digging nobody, unworthy of his heir. He stormed into our penthouse with his lawyer, slamming down abortion consent forms and a divorce NDA, offering five million to terminate and vanish. "You're not fit to carry my child," he spat, gripping my jaw. I refused the abortion, signed the zero-payout divorce to keep my company insurance for my dying mom's ICU bills, but stayed on as an admin assistant. Brittany, his mistress, spilled coffee on my reports, got me demoted to the dusty sub-basement sorting old files. She framed me for attacking her, security dragged me out, slamming me into doorframes that cramped my belly. Trapped in a sabotaged freight elevator, I nearly miscarried in the dark, gasping for air while Ell rescued me—only to find my prenatal pills and rage. At the gala, I warned Brittany the Angel's Tears necklace—Georgina's flawed design—was cracking. She accused me of theft; Ell ordered me stripped and searched publicly. It snapped anyway, shattering the diamond, but he blamed me, firing and blacklisting me on the spot. Beaten down, humiliated, body aching from their cruelty—how could my husband, who I once loved, destroy me without a shred of doubt? What made him so blind to my pain? Dragged from our home in the rain, a black Rolls-Royce Phantom pulled up. The butler bowed: "Madame Aura, your suite awaits." As Ell watched from his Maybach, I initiated the hostile takeover—time to bankrupt them all.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.7

Rejected By My Cruel Fated Mate

8.7

I was pregnant with the future heir of the Blackwood Pack, but my fated mate, Alpha Gavin, was nowhere to be found when sharp, tearing agony ripped through my swollen belly. Instead of rushing to my side, he was in a luxury penthouse with his mistress, Piper. When I desperately called his human number for help, it was Piper who answered the phone. "I'm Piper. His future Luna." Minutes later, I received a leaked audio file of Gavin promising to formally reject me the moment our pup was born. Before the heartbreak could even set in, my armored SUV was violently rammed off the road by a massive truck. It wasn't an accident. It was a targeted hit paid for by Piper's pack. I woke up in the clinic with an empty womb. My pup was dead. Gavin didn't even show up. He just mind-linked the butler to say he was "too busy" to deal with my loss. He let his mistress murder our child and treated me like disposable trash, assuming my grief would make me a weak, compliant victim. He thought he could just bury my trauma and move on with his perfect new life. He was wrong. I faked my own death in a fiery crash, leaving him with nothing but my signed rejection papers and the bloody receipt proving his mistress hired the killers. Now, armed with a new identity and untraceable wealth, I am stepping out of the shadows. I am going to bankrupt their packs from the inside out and make my former Alpha watch his empire burn.

Billionaire Romance Werewolf

9.5

Shattered Vows: The Secret Heiress's Dazzling Return

9.5

For two years, Clementine played the perfectly obedient wife to billionaire Donovan Bray, wearing his heavy diamonds and enduring his cold indifference. Until she accidentally saw his tablet and discovered she was just a "collateral asset"—a cheap lookalike prop hired to make his ex-girlfriend, Gisela, jealous. When Gisela returned to New York, Donovan's mask completely slipped. During a vicious argument where he mocked Clementine as a pathetic shadow, he grabbed her, causing her to fall down a flight of marble stairs. Waking up in the hospital, Clementine learned she had miscarried a six-week-old baby she didn't even know she had. But what truly shattered her was hearing Donovan's voice through the cracked hospital door. "It changes nothing." He coldly lied to his friend that the fall had caused permanent infertility. "It was probably for the best." He had killed her unborn child and casually dismissed her worth, truly believing she was a penniless nobody who would suffer his abuse in silence. He thought he held all the power, leaving her broken and discarded for his true love. What Donovan didn't know was that his fragile, dependent wife was secretly "C.", the billionaire genius behind Aurelian, the world's most exclusive luxury jewelry empire. Lying in the sterile room, Clementine dried her tears, filed for a ruthless divorce, and permanently froze his supplementary black card. It was time to show him who really held the strings.

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.5

She Found Freedom, Not His Love

9.5

Eda Roman clutched her father's diagnostic report, its sharp edge cutting her finger. His cancer had mutated, standard treatment failed, and a fifty thousand dollar deposit for experimental therapy was due by midnight. Fail to pay, and his hospital bed would be cleared. Wife to Axel Foley, a multi-billion dollar CEO, Eda faced an impossible chasm. Her family trust, controlled by Keri Lane, offered a meager three hundred dollars. An emergency fund request met a forty-eight-hour review—a death sentence. Keri's assistant denied expedite and blocked calls. Desperate, Eda called Axel, but his assistant dismissed her with lies, Axel's laughter echoing. Humiliation and betrayal ignited cold fury. Wife to Seattle's wealthiest, yet begging on a hospital floor? Axel's indifference and Keri's games showed her: her father's life couldn't be left in their hands. Wiping tears, the pleading girl vanished; her survival instinct roared. Red lipstick her war paint, Eda Roman marched to Foley Group Headquarters, ready to reclaim what was hers.

Billionaire Modern Romance

The Unwanted Wife Demands A Divorce

Chapter 6

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