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Divorce Him, Inherit The World Novel Cover

Divorce Him, Inherit The World

For three years, Genevieve poured herself into a one-sided devotion, only to become the punchline of everyone's jokes. When Julian demands she choose between her career and their marriage, she doesn't hesitate—she chooses divorce. From that moment, she vows to reclaim her dignity and step into her true role as the poised, brilliant heiress of a pharmaceutical empire. Her father is a business tycoon, her mother a renowned physician, her older brother a ruthless corporate magnate, and her younger brother a dominant force in entertainment. Yet her most dangerous rival is the heir to a billion-dollar empire—a man who secretly harbors a soft spot for her.
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Chapter 2

"Julian?"

Genevieve froze.

Deep down, she had always known he would never take her side.

But she had clung to the belief that he was, at his core, a fair man. That he wouldn't condemn her based on Elara's story alone, without even a shred of investigation.

Now, it seemed even that sliver of hope was a luxury she couldn't afford.

Genevieve lowered her head, a bitter, self-mocking smile twisting her lips.

This was the man she had poured all her passion into, hoping to melt his cold heart. The man she had married, even against her own father's wishes.

Three years.

Three long years.

She knew he still loved Elara. She knew they had been childhood sweethearts. But Elara had married his cousin, and Genevieve had foolishly believed that if she just loved him enough, one day he would finally begin to value her.

So, when Julian had proposed marriage on the sole condition that she look after the ailing Elara, she had accepted.

She never imagined that three years later, he could say the word "divorce" so easily, with such carelessness.

Genevieve lifted her gaze to Julian, who stood across from her like an opponent in a battle she had already lost.

His eyes were cold and merciless, his handsome face a mask of indifference. He looked at her with the same detached chill he'd had three years ago, as if she were a complete stranger.

She had been so naive.

If someone doesn't love you, nothing you do will ever change that.

"Genevieve! Did you hear him? Resign, or get a divorce!" Eleanor glared at her, a malicious sneer plastered across her face.

"I've already told you," Genevieve said, slowly straightening her back, a newfound clarity in her eyes. "I did everything in my power for the patient. If you doubt my treatment, you can request an investigation by the hospital's Medical Review Board. I will not be giving up my career."

The words had barely left her mouth.

Eleanor slammed her palm on the table, jabbed a finger toward Genevieve's face, and snarled, "You did everything you could?!"

"Ha!"

"You have the nerve to bring up a review board? Do you think I don't know you've all conspired together at that hospital? Elara told me everything! You've been tormenting our little princess, and now you think you can cover your tracks!"

"Fine! If you refuse to repent, then so be it! Arthur! Lock her in the storage room! She can stay there until she comes to her senses!"

"And since she is so stubborn, she gets no food! Just enough water to keep her from dying!"

A wave of disbelief washed over Genevieve. In this day and age, in a society governed by law, they were actually talking about locking her in a dark room and starving her.

She didn't argue. Instead, her eyes went to Julian.

She had to admit, she was foolish and stubborn enough to need one last confirmation of where he stood.

But all she saw was his cold, unwavering stare. "Come talk to me when you've thought it through," he said, his voice flat. "You will take full responsibility for what happened to Elara."

"Julian, why are you even wasting your breath on her? Just throw her in there and starve her for three days. We'll see how stubborn she is then!" Ivy had always hated Genevieve, convinced she had trapped Julian into this marriage. From the day Genevieve had joined the Everett family, Ivy had made her life hell.

Genevieve didn't look at Ivy. She didn't care what any of them thought. From the very beginning, only Julian's opinion had ever mattered.

She stared straight at him. "Julian, I never intended to harm Elara. I am a doctor. I would never administer the wrong treatment. You've always prided yourself on being rational. Can't you at least be fair to me?"

Genevieve looked at him, her gaze earnest.

She wasn't asking for his favor. She was only asking for fairness.

For him to investigate the matter properly and give her the explanation she deserved.

That was all.

But in the end, all she received was his silence.

Arthur grabbed her arm and hauled her toward the storage room.

The heavy door swung shut, and through the narrowing gap, she watched Julian's face disappear inch by inch.

A flicker of panic seized her, but his eyes were filled with nothing but frost. Not a single trace of warmth remained for her.

The step she had been about to take faltered, stopped dead by that dark, chilling gaze. A vast emptiness hollowed out her chest as she stood there, helpless, watching his face vanish completely.

She didn't know how long she was in that pitch-black room.

All she knew was the damp chill of the floor beneath her fingertips.

The air was thick with a cold, menacing dread.

Soft, furry things skittered past her skin, their faint squeaks sending shivers down her spine.

Her initial sorrow gave way to numbness. Finally, she just sat collapsed on the cold floor, the love that had once burned so brightly extinguishing with every silent, passing moment.

In that lightless space, she lost all sense of time.

Finally, a heavy door creaked open, and a harsh blade of sunlight stabbed into the darkness.

Julian stood silhouetted in the light. "Ready to admit you were wrong?" he asked coldly.

His unspoken words hung in the air. If she was, she should go to the hospital and take care of Elara.

That last, tiny ember of affection she'd held for him was snuffed out.

But still, a part of her refused to give up. She couldn't tell if she was reluctant to let go of three years of effort, or just reluctant to let go of him.

"I did my best to treat Elara, and I am certain I did nothing wrong. If you can, just give me some time. I will go to the hospital and find the truth. I will give you a satisfactory answer. Can you at least grant me that?"

Genevieve lifted her head, making one last attempt to salvage what was left of their marriage.

"Give you time? You mean, give you time to cover up the truth?" The mockery in his eyes was a physical blow.

She had known this would be his answer, but it still shattered her.

Using her knees for support, she staggered to her feet, her body shrouded in the room's shadows. Stubbornly, she forced herself to ask one last question. "Julian... in these three years, was there ever a single moment... when you liked me? Even a little?"

Julian froze for a second before a dry laugh escaped his lips. The sheer ridicule in that sound was all the answer she needed.

That laugh struck her like a slap, a brutal reminder of her own foolishness.

"Oh. So you never did," she murmured, her face ashen. "Fine. I was a fool for ever thinking you could."

"Then..." A bleak, desolate smile touched her lips. "Let's get a divorce."

Julian's expression froze. His brow furrowed as he stared at her, his eyes cold and sharp.

He had been certain that a night in this room would break her. That she would compromise, fall in line, and resign from her position, just as she always had.

He never, ever expected to hear the word "divorce" from her.

Unbelievable. She was still so stubborn.

Genevieve watched the shock on his face and let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh.

She had always been so obedient. No wonder he looked so stunned now that she had finally found her spine.

She took a deep breath, and while he was still reeling, she said it again, her voice clear and firm. "Julian, we're getting a divorce."

With that, Genevieve lifted her foot and stepped over the threshold.

She walked slowly. The low-grade fever from the day before had worsened in the damp chill, and her back ached from the cane strikes. She could almost still feel the phantom sensation of tiny creatures crawling over her skin.

But even so, her steps did not waver.

She was leaving this place. Leaving the Everett family. And leaving the marriage she had once believed would last a lifetime.

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