Divorced His Wife for His “Little Sister”,Billionaire Ex Husband on His Knees

His last word vanished in the slam of the door.

I stared at the photo of Agatha holding a bouquet of candied hawthorns, confirmed the arm she was clinging to belonged to who I thought it did, and saved the screenshot.

I'd just finished getting dressed and headed downstairs when something ice-cold was shoved down my collar—a snowball.

The melting snow sent a violent shiver through me.

Agatha doubled over laughing, then hurled another snowball that grazed my cheek.

"Eliana, it's just a snowball fight! You're not going to be mad at me, are you?"

Brent laughed along with her. "Come on, she's not that petty."

I said nothing. I bent down, scooped up a handful of snow, and shoved it down Agatha's collar.

"Ah!"

The second she shrieked, Brent sprinted over and pulled her into his arms—then shoved me aside.

I instinctively reached out to break my fall. A sharp crack. White-hot pain shot through my wrist.

"Brent... I'm so cold..." Agatha whimpered.

His face darkened. "Eliana! It was just a game—you took it too far!"

He scooped Agatha up and strode back toward the hotel, leaving me in the snow, drenched in cold sweat from the pain.

Watching them disappear, I felt suddenly exhausted.

Too exhausted to even bother being angry.

A hotel attendant spotted me and rushed over, panicked. "Ma'am, are you okay? I'll call an ambulance!"

I was about to say no when a heavy ache seized my lower abdomen. A red stain bloomed across the snow beneath me.

My right hand was encased in a thick plaster cast. The doctor frowned at me.

"You're pregnant—how could you be so careless? I'll prescribe some injections to help stabilize the pregnancy. When you get home, stay in bed, eat well..."

A ringing filled my ears. "I'm pregnant?"

"Yes. You're showing signs of a threatened miscarriage, but with proper rest, you should be able to keep it."

I came back to myself. "I don't want it."

She paused. "What did you say?"

I looked out the window at the snow drifting down, my vision blurring. "I don't want the baby. Just schedule the procedure."

Dr. Avery Grant Grant nodded slowly. "Are you sure? Don't you want to discuss this with your family?"

I looked at the latest photo on social media—Agatha and Brent soaking in a hot spring together—and my voice went flat. "I'm sure."

"Alright. Appointments are light right now. We can do it tomorrow. Get some rest—I'll switch you to a stronger painkiller."

She sighed and left.

I lay in that room reeking of disinfectant. The whole night passed without my phone ringing once.

The surgery the next day was quick. When I returned to the hotel, someone was still asleep in the bed.

Two someones, actually. Wrapped around each other.

The sound of the door woke Brent. When he saw me, he sat up slowly.

"So you're back? I say a few words to you and you throw a tantrum and stay out all night? You're getting more and more—"

His eyes landed on the cast on my arm. His brow furrowed.

"You're hurt? What happened?"

Agatha stirred awake with a soft moan, her pale arm sliding up to loop around his neck. "Brent..."

The blanket slipped. There was nothing left to the imagination.

I grabbed the handle of my suitcase, set the room key calmly on the nightstand. "Enjoy your honeymoon."

Brent shoved Agatha's arm away and leaped to his feet—only to realize he was naked too.

The panic on his face was obvious. He yanked on clothes and grabbed my arm. "Eliana, let me explain. It's not what you think. Agatha said she was having nightmares and came to talk, and then somehow—"

I pried his fingers off one by one. "You don't need to explain anything to me."

"No! You have to listen! I swear, we just fell asleep with our clothes on! I don't know how this happened!"

Agatha dropped to her knees in front of me with a thud, clutching the bedsheet around her. "Eliana, I swear nothing happened between me and Brent. If you don't believe me, I'll just kill myself! I've been wanting to join my brother anyway..."

She sobbed as she smashed a glass and slashed it hard across her wrist.

Brent grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Eliana, Agatha has depression. She can't handle stress. Wait for me in the living room—I'll explain everything later."

By the time Agatha finally fell into a heavy sleep, he searched the entire room but found no trace of me.

A knock came at the door. Brent's expression lifted as he rushed to open it. "Eliana—"

A room service attendant stood there holding a plastic bag. "Sir, this was sent over from Central City Medical Center. A woman apparently forgot to pick up her prescription, so they delivered it based on the address."

Brent took it. A medical instruction sheet slipped out of the bag. Printed across the top in bold letters: Post-Abortion Care Instructions.

Just before boarding, my phone rang relentlessly. I declined the call and sent him a text:

"Let's get divorced."

After hitting send, I blocked him on everything.