Divorced by the CEO, Crowned as the Billionaire Heiress

I helped Fred Delgado build his empire from nothing to a hundred billion. My reward, at his celebration gala, was a set of divorce papers.

"Bianca is carrying my child. I won't have my firstborn labeled a bastard."

He pushed the documents in front of me, voice flat, not a shred of warmth.

"You keep the seaside villa. A million a month for living expenses. Keep your mouth shut, and as far as the rest of the world knows, you're still his wife."

I scoffed and tore the pages to shreds.

"So you've got the status and the money sorted out perfectly. Good for you."

Fred frowned. "Don't be greedy. You're a nobody who grew up in an orphanage. You should be grateful you even have a life this comfortable."

I pulled out my phone right in front of him and dialed the private line of the world's richest man.

"Dad. Since Fred thinks our family background is so ordinary, go ahead and cut off his funding."

——

On the other end, my father said nothing.

A long silence.

"Then it's settled. As long as you're sure."

Then he hung up.

Beside me, Fred let out a laugh.

"Winifred Pruitt, have you lost your mind? My funding comes from the top energy conglomerate on the planet!"

"Look, I know you're hurting, but you don't get to stand here and lie to a room full of people."

The guests laughed. Open, unrestrained laughter.

Fred's gaze turned to open contempt. "Let alone the fact that you grew up in an orphanage. Since when do you have a father? Because I certainly never heard about one."

The laughter swelled. Apparently mocking an orphan was something worth celebrating.

I looked back at him, calm.

I had never once lied to Fred Delgado.

This was no exception.

My steady gaze got under his skin. He waved his bodyguards over without another word.

"Take her back to the villa. Without my permission, she doesn't set one foot outside that door."

"Since she's lost her mind, lock her up until she's cured!"

His voice was ice.

Outside the banquet hall, Fred's assistant tossed me a package.

"Miss Pruitt, Mr. Delgado's orders. Aside from the clothes on your back, you don't take a single thing that belongs to the Delgado family."

He flicked a bank card onto the ground.

"That's one million in relocation money from Mr. Delgado. You should know where you stand. Go back to the villa like a good girl and stop embarrassing yourself."

I glanced at the card on the ground.

The irony was almost funny.

He'd probably forgotten that seven years ago, when his startup collapsed and he was hiding in a basement eating instant noodles, I was the one who pawned her family heirlooms to keep him afloat.

And when his business pivot was falling apart, I was the one who stayed up three nights straight, putting together quotes and projections for every single one of his suppliers.

He thought he was a business genius.

Everything he'd built was built on my help.

"Throw it away."

I turned and walked off.

The assistant seemed startled, then raised his voice to a shout. "Miss Pruitt! Don't push your luck. The villa and a million a month—that's the best you're ever going to get!"

All I heard was noise.

"Go back and tell Fred Delgado to start preparing for bankruptcy. Don't wait until he's staring down the end before he comes begging me for help."

I said it without looking back.

Maybe my arrogance got to him, because he didn't bother me again.

I had barely checked into a hotel when my phone lit up with a string of notifications.

Your supplementary card ending in 6688 has been frozen.

Within three minutes, every bank card Fred had ever given me was frozen. Every single one.

Then a message from him.

"Since you won't accept my offer, consider it a voluntary forfeiture. When you're out on the street and starving, don't you dare come crawling back to me."