After the Divorce, the CEO Begged to Remarry Me

It was the weekend, so no alarms, no meetings.

Carol slept in without a care, then dragged herself to the couch with her sketchpad, turned on the TV just for some background noise, and started drawing.

As she flipped through the channels absentmindedly, her finger hovered as a familiar face popped up-it was a business talk show featuring Ethan.

She paused mid-motion.

He was dressed in a tailored dark suit. Even though his skin still looked a bit pale, the way he sat, back straight and eyes sharp, gave off a strong, unshakable presence. Every answer he gave to the host was delivered calmly and clearly-composed, confident, in control.

Then the host switched gears and got bold: "Mr. Mitchell, there's been a lot of buzz lately about your health. Some investors are worried-will that impact your control over Mitchell Group and its future direction?"

Even Carol thought that was out of line. She lifted her coffee but forgot to drink, eyes fixed on the screen, waiting for his response.

Ethan didn't even blink. His tone stayed cool and even as he replied, "I'm fully aware of my health, and it doesn't affect my judgment. More importantly, Mitchell Group has a sound decision-making system. It doesn't rely on one person."

He was calm and matter-of-fact, effectively turning a crisis into nothing at all.

Carol just stared blankly at the screen, watching that powerful man speak like he had the whole world under control.

She didn't know why, but her chest felt like it trembled a little.

Monday morning's meeting came fast.

The design department head added a last-minute update: "...Apparently two major partners just pulled out of several of Ryan's real estate projects under the Morgan Group. And some of the luxury brand collabs are on hold too. Looks like our payments for the model home work might get delayed, so everyone, double-check your parts and stay on top of it."

He lowered his voice, sounding half serious, half gossipy: "Word is, they've pissed off someone big..."

Carol suddenly pictured Ethan's expressionless but chilling face from the other day.

"People like him need to learn that putting hands on you comes with a price they can't afford."

That line echoed in her head out of nowhere.

Could it really be him?

In the break room, the coffee chat was already in full swing.

Someone brought up Ryan's scandalous video. Some coworkers praised whoever exposed it as a sort of vigilante hero, others thought it crossed a line and messed with people's privacy.

One girl leaned in, lowering her voice for effect. "A friend of mine in IT said some hacker group is digging into the uploader. Heard they're close to figuring it out..."

Someone blinked. "Why go after the uploader?"

"Probably bored and nosy. Said they want the uploader to have a taste of their own medicine."

Carol didn't bother to stick around. She grabbed her coffee and walked straight out.

But the moment she sat back at her desk, her phone rang.

It was Donald Bennett.

As soon as the call connected, Donald Bennett's voice came rushing in with his usual fake concern and urgency. "Carol, the Morgans reached out. They want you to take down that original video ASAP. No need to show your face, just post a statement saying the video was AI-generated and Ryan's being framed..."

Carol cut him off. "Not happening."

His tone turned sharp immediately. "Carol! Can't you be a bit more sensible? The Bennetts and Morgans do business together! Have you thought about what this means for the family?"

She let out a cold laugh, each word hitting like a slap. "The family? Donald Bennett, where was that sense of family when you cheated on Mom and brought that mistress home while she was still sick?"

Donald snapped, fury breaking through. "I'm your father!"

"I don't have a father. Mine died a long time ago."

Carol inhaled sharply, choking back the lump in her throat. "Take care of yourself."

And with that, she hung up, casually dragging his number into her blocklist.

That afternoon, a message from Sophia popped up with a link.

"Girl! Look at this! Someone seems to have dug up something on the video poster! The comments are full of trolls foaming at the mouth, yelling about doxing them and giving 'em a taste of their own medicine!"

Then a voice message followed, her voice full of worry. "Carol, I know you didn't do anything wrong. But if those lunatics start targeting you, it's still a huge headache!

"Plus, if the Mitchell family gets caught up in this mess... maybe it's time to just divorce him? Save yourself."

Carol frowned and opened the link, staring at the hostile comments on the screen. A twinge of unease crept into her chest.

It's not like she was scared-she had nothing to lose.

But what if Sophia was right? What if things escalated and the Mitchells got dragged in?

Ethan hated drama. Especially anything personal from her side.

She clenched her phone a little tighter, fingertips cold.

He'd warned her before: "Don't bring trouble to the Mitchells."

If her info really got leaked, staining the Mitchells' name... Would he just drop her like that? No hesitation?

Weirdly, deep down, she did feel... a tiny flicker of regret?

They hadn't even gotten out of the so-called "honeymoon phase" yet.

Meanwhile, over in the Mitchell Group CEO's office-

Jack finished delivering the latest update on the Morgans' project crashing, then added, "Boss, one more thing. The online buzz around that video? Someone's steering attention toward the original poster. Feels like the Morgans are behind it. Mrs. Mitchell... might be at risk of getting doxed."

Ethan had been going through documents the whole time, but hearing "Mrs. Mitchell," his pen paused mid-air.

Jack caught the slight change in his boss's expression and felt a chill run down his spine. That look usually meant someone was seriously screwed.

But then, Ethan's voice came calm and unreadable as always: "Shut it down."

Jack looked up, visibly startled, but the moment his eyes met Ethan's calm and unreadable gaze, he quickly straightened up and nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll handle it right away."

As he stepped out of the office, Jack couldn't help but think: Sure, the boss keeps saying he won't clean up after his wife, but isn't that exactly what he's been doing all along - just less obvious about it?

At this rate, Ms. Bennett might as well officially become Mrs. Mitchell for real.

*

When Carol got off work and clicked on that link again, the page had completely vanished. Not only was the post gone, but the topic had also been majorly suppressed. It felt like someone wiped the entire thing off the internet - no trace left at all.

She stared blankly at her screen. Honestly, who else besides Ethan could pull off something like this?

That uneasiness in her chest was quietly replaced by something more complicated.

Just then, her phone rang - it was Jack.

"Mrs. Mitchell, the boss instructed me to drive you to and from work for the time being," he informed her.

Carol immediately connected the dots. "So you're the one who handled the post, right? Thanks..."

Jack glanced into the rearview mirror at the man in the backseat, who had his eyes closed like he was resting. "Ma'am, Mr. Mitchell is also in the car. I'm afraid I'm not the one to pass on your thanks."

As soon as he said that, Ethan opened his eyes and shot him a glare.

"Didn't know you had this much to say lately."

Jack just smiled to himself. After working with Ethan for so long, he'd never once seen the man so openly concerned about someone.

As Carol exited the building, her eyes instantly landed on the Bentley parked by the curb. She climbed in and leaned closer to the chilly man beside her, arching a playful brow. "Thanks, hubby~"

Up front, Jack had kind of developed a tolerance for Carol's playful antics by now. He just kept his eyes on the road, pretending not to hear.

Ethan didn't even blink. "Not necessary."

But Carol didn't get discouraged. She just shot him a mischievous wink. "But you didn't object to the 'hubby' though~"

Ethan: "..."

Back home, Ethan barely said a word before heading straight to the living room and switching on his laptop.

Carol didn't bother him, just slipped into the kitchen.

As night fell, the gentle gurgle of the stew pot and the warm scent of food slowly filled the quiet house, softening the cold, sterile vibe of the space.

Ethan finally shut his laptop with a sigh and leaned back a bit, exhausted. But his eyes drifted - almost involuntarily - toward the kitchen where warm light poured out.

This kind of homey vibe... it'd been a long time since he felt it.

He closed his eyes, the scent lingering at the tip of his nose, and somewhere deep in his chest, that usually cold and guarded spot... seemed to melt just a bit.