When Freya’s billionaire husband demands a divorce to reunite with his first love, she shocks him by demanding a fortune before walking away. But as their ruthless battle begins, hidden truths, shattered trust, and unexpected feelings threaten to turn their clean break into a war neither of them is prepared to lose.
At night, the spacious living room glowed under bright lights as two people sat across from each other, a divorce agreement resting between them. Kristian Shaw, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, exuded an air of cold detachment. His sharp features were unreadable, his presence commanding and intimidating. His piercing gaze settled on the silent…
Thirty minutes later, her phone buzzed with Fred’s verdict. “Zero troubles. No illness, no crisis. Why the hell are you asking? Kristian’s loaded, hot, and sharp – you two are a match. Don’t you like pretty boys? Give it a shot!” She ignored the jab and shot back, “You are so blind.” Then she silenced…
“Save the sympathy.” Freya scoffed, amused by their expressions. She gestured to the bags weighing them down. “A single one of those could cover your salary for a year. Maybe ten.” The blow landed perfectly. She pressed, “Well, anything you’d like?” Five pairs of eyes widened in unison. Freya’s mind worked in ways they couldn’t…
He ignored her, murmuring something to Ashley that made her blush. Freya’s patience snapped. “Gerard,” she called, not turning from the bed. “How long will you lurk by the door?” Gerard stiffened. How had she even noticed him? “Get your phone out.” Her tone was lethally calm. “Record your boss cozying up to his mistress.…
She remained unshaken, her tone glacial. “I won’t blame you for seducing my husband – a relationship takes two. But let’s address your false accusation first.” “I’m sorry!” Ashley’s apology tumbled out, saccharine with remorse. Her fingers twisted the sheets. “When I saw ‘Mrs. Shaw,’ I just assumed it was you.” “Oh?” Freya’s smile sharpened.…
“Yes.” Kristian didn’t back down. “Even if I hadn’t changed,” Freya countered, her confidence unshaken, “the moment you saw those chat logs about Ashley’s accident, you’d have accused me without a second thought. Admit it.” Kristian opened his mouth to argue – then froze. She wasn’t wrong. With a flick of her wrist, Freya tossed…
The chasm between them widened, the once close-knit hearts now adrift in a sea of growing distance. As Freya’s door clicked shut, a wave of loss crashed over Kristian, leaving him with a poignant ache, as though he were watching a part of himself vanish into the ether. . . . He furrowed his brow…
As they walked towards their destination, he couldn’t help but feel that Freya had been playing the fool, expertly masking her true intentions from him all this time. The expansive grounds of the Shaw estate unfurled like a regal tapestry, leading them through a lush courtyard and up to the imposing facade of the main…
Kristian replied with conviction, “We’re merely here to make things clear.” “So, it’s you who’s pushing for the divorce, not Freya?” Lionel pinpointed the crucial issue swiftly, his tone laced with rage. “You rushed into marriage without thinking, and now you want a damn divorce? Do you even get what the hell marriage means?” “Why…
Kristian stole a glance at Freya for the twenty-third time, each fleeting look laden with unspoken questions. “Just say it if you have something to say.” Freya broke the silence, her patience thinning under the weight of his persistent stares. “Come on, just tell me – did you study medicine or not?” Kristian’s voice was…