After the Divorce, My Brother Is the CEO

To squeeze an extra share of the property buyout money, Murray Hughes and I got a sham divorce.

The night the funds hit the account, I cooked a whole table of dishes he and our son loved.

I wanted to talk to Murray about remarrying, and while I was at it, tell him I'd finally found my brother who'd been separated from me years ago.

He and our son came home late. I picked up the cold plates to reheat them, but he stopped me：“Don't bother. We already ate.”

Our son curled his lip in disgust：“I'm so sick of this stuff. My new mom's pasta is way better.”

My knuckles went white around the plate. I stared at Murray, stunned.

He said it like he was reading the weather：“I married Mr. Simmons's daughter.”

“You know how badly I've wanted that general manager position. This was the fastest way.”

My lips were shaking when I managed to speak：“Then what about me?”

He ruffled our son's hair as if the answer were obvious：

“You'll always be his birth mother. Nothing changes that.”

“I'll still come visit you, but you can't tell anyone.”

“Iris Simmons wouldn't like it.”

——

It felt like someone had cracked a bat across the back of my skull. My heart seized, and the shock left everything muffled and dim.

I gripped the edge of the table, sank into the chair in a daze, his words looping over and over in my head：

“I got married.”

It took a long time before my brain started working again. I lifted my head, looked at Murray, and forced the words out through the trembling：

“When……when did you two get married?”

He pressed his lips together, crouched down in front of me, and looked up with dark, unreadable eyes：

“Eva Cox, I don't have feelings for her. I just want that position. You know how much you mean to me. How can you not see that?”

I shoved his hand away and repeated myself：“When did you marry her?”

Maybe the look in my eyes was too relentless. He opened his mouth, closed it, then finally dropped his gaze and answered quietly：

“The day after our divorce.”

The day after our divorce?

So the divorce was never about the buyout money. He just couldn't wait to marry another woman.

“Eva, I promise you, once I've secured the position, I'll divorce her right away. And then……”

“Smack.” My hand cracked across his face. I stared at him with bloodshot eyes and snarled：

“You're still lying to me! Even now!”

“Do I look like a fool to you? Murray Hughes.” His name choked out of me like something broken.

I sucked in a breath, and even the air clawing into my lungs hurt.

I clenched my fists and forced myself to steady, forced myself not to fall apart in front of the man who'd betrayed me.

“This was a setup from the very beginning, wasn't it? All of it, just for me.” I tried to keep my voice level, but every word came out shaking.

Murray stood there with my handprint blazing across his cheek, fished a cigarette from his pocket, and lit it.

Through the curling smoke I couldn't make out his expression. All I had was his voice, low and flat：

“Eva, there's no need to get so worked up. The way I see it, you haven't really lost anything.”

“You're still his mother. You're still living in the penthouse. And there's a nice chunk of buyout money sitting in your bank account.”

“All you lost is a title. How is that a bad deal for you?”

I looked up at him, unable to believe those words had just come out of the mouth of the man I'd loved for ten years.

The tears I'd been holding back finally broke free.

They rolled down my cheeks, fat and hot. I had so much fury, so many accusations I wanted to hurl at him, but the moment I met his eyes and found not a single trace of guilt, every last word jammed in my throat and died there.