Divorce my prentened poor Billionaire husband

Mario Wallace froze, completely caught off guard. Annika Price was even more shocked. Annika had always bent over backwards to accommodate everyone before. So why wasn’t Everest Kennedy’s gift enough to win her over this time?

To Mario’s utter surprise, Annika was a totally different woman right now. The second she found out the flowers were from Everest, not a flicker of joy crossed her face. Her refusal was clear-cut, straight to the point, no room left for anyone to misread her.

"Please give these flowers to someone else. I don’t want them here."

Mario was almost too shocked to speak. He’d never expected Annika to react this coldly. Just sending flowers probably wasn’t enough to win her over, he figured. Panicked to smooth things over, he rushed to add, "Annika, there’s an expensive gold necklace in the bouquet—worth over twenty grand. Mr. Kennedy sent it specifically for you."

Even that didn’t shake her. To his disbelief, she stood firm. "Send the necklace back to him. He can sell it. I’d rather put that twenty grand toward the five-hundred-thousand-dollar debt I owe him."

"What? Sell it for twenty grand to pay off a debt? What five-hundred-thousand-dollar debt? I’m sorry, I don’t get it," Mario stammered, completely thrown off by this random debt he’d never heard a word about.

"Annika, this is just Mr. Kennedy showing he cares. Selling it is kind of… too much…" Mario’s words cut off mid-sentence when he heard the cold, sharp beep of the call ending.

Annika’s mind was made up, solid as concrete.

"Finally got sick of tiptoeing around, huh?"

A deep, familiar voice rumbled from the doorway. Mario nearly dropped his phone in shock when Everest Kennedy stepped into view. He stood tall, backlit, his long shadow stretching all the way across the room.

An intimidating aura clung to him, his whole demeanor ice-cold. Mario already regretted making that call so recklessly.

Everest had overheard every word of his conversation with Annika, and he was clearly pissed—Mario couldn’t miss that. He fumbled for an explanation immediately. "Mr. Kennedy, I think she realized the gift wasn’t from you personally, that’s why she turned it down."

Everest’s jaw was set hard as he walked into the room, grabbed his phone off the coffee table, and walked out without another word. As he neared the elevators, he couldn’t help but overhear Hannah gossiping on her call.

"What? You landed a PR spot for that project meeting? If it goes well, there’s a fifty-thousand-dollar bonus? That’s way easier money than dancing at that rooftop club, for sure. You have to take it!"

Everest’s eyes darkened just a shade. He knew these PR gigs weren’t ever the easy walk in the park people pretended they were. Showing up to fancy parties was just the start—things got way messier, way higher-stakes than that. No smart businessman would drop fifty grand just for some girl to sit in on a project discussion, not when the whole thing smelled this fishy.

Everest didn’t stick his nose in any further and stepped onto the elevator. His mind drifted back to Annika—so dead-set on clawing her way out of her money problems, maybe even out of this whole dead-end life of hers, by any means necessary.

But Annika had already taken the job. She’d expected stuffy conference rooms and formal project proposals, not… this. The second she stepped into the private suite with Hugo Jameson, she already regretted saying yes.

Inside, a handful of men lounged around without a care, the same sick, sleazy debauchery she’d seen before playing out right in front of her. Some were canoodling with their dates, feeding each other grapes mouth-to-mouth. Others were doing even more vulgar things.

They were predators, nothing more, nothing less.

They pretended not to know who she was, and loud, leering whistles rang out.

"Whoa, fresh meat! C’mere closer so we can get a good look," one of them teased.

"Hugo’s new PR girl really is something, huh? Even dressed that frumpy, she’s easy on the eyes," another chimed in.

"C’mon, lose the jacket! Don’t be a party pooper!" they jeered.

One guy snuck a photo of Annika and dropped it into their group chat—their little digital hangout for gossip and dirty schemes—making sure to tag Everest and Selena.

[Mr. Kennedy, you’re not gonna believe this. The prey walked right into our trap. Annika showed up with Hugo tonight. Time to have some fun!]

[Showtime, baby. Once we’ve had our fill, our hero can come swooping in to save the day. Classic move.]

[Our guy’s got all the charm in the world. He’ll pretend he fell head over heels the second he saw her, get her hooked good, then dump her like last week’s trash. Never fails, right?]

[Mr. Kennedy, Selena—y’all aren’t gonna join us to get payback for our girl Selena?]

Selena typed back instantly: [I’m in! Wait up, guys!]

Annika’s dignity was just waiting to be trampled into the dirt, bruised and broken for their sick, malicious entertainment. Fearing Everest might step in and ruin their plan, Selena added a sneaky little line, tagging him again:

[Brother, I know you’re swamped with work. If it’s okay with you, I’ll just let my team handle this. Promise we won’t cross any lines.]