Divorcing the Fraud CEO,Now He’s Begging for Me Back

Yet five years ago, Warren Gilbert had been so different.

So good.

He'd stood in line for two hours in the dead of winter just to buy me those famous pan-fried buns from Old Town Market.

His nose had turned bright red from the cold, but he never complained. Not once.

When I was sick with a fever, he'd stayed up all night at my bedside.

He'd even cried when I was too delirious to wake—actually shed tears because he couldn't bear to see me suffer.

Then he'd doused himself with cold water in the middle of winter until he caught a fever too.

"I can't stand watching my Jade hurt like this," he'd said. "Let me hurt with you."

But that was five years ago.

Now, Warren Gilbert was rotten to the core.

He was out there cheating, flirting with other women, chasing after young girls.

He'd lost all shame.

The only reason he kept dragging his feet on the divorce was because I earned more than he did.

We'd had screaming matches. We'd threatened to end it a hundred times.

But his cold silence always won. Every fight died without resolution.

I'd spent years wondering: Do people's hearts really change that fast? Or had Warren Gilbert been wearing a mask from the very beginning?

Five years, and I still couldn't tell.

I waited until he'd completely disappeared from view downstairs before pulling out my phone and dialing a number I hadn't called in a long time.

It connected instantly.

"Miss Henson?" The butler's voice was cautious, curious.

I let out a bitter laugh. "Burton Chavez, tell my father I've changed my mind."

"Three months at most. I'll be divorced and home."

Burton couldn't hide his delight. "Wonderful, wonderful! Miss Henson has finally come around. Mr. Henson will be absolutely thrilled to hear this!"

Being the Henson family's eldest daughter was one thing, but I'd built my own life outside of that. I wrote articles, earned my own income.

Yet every few months, Warren would claim he was broke and take my bank card.

This time was no different.

There had been fifty thousand dollars in that account. Warren had blown through every last cent overnight.

I stared at the transaction alerts, watching the balance drop to zero.

Then I called the private investigator.

"Find out what Warren Gilbert has been doing lately."

Evan Parker came back with answers fast.

Warren had taken my money and started a fake company. A front to lure in young women.

"My company just launched—we're in the growth phase right now."

"Gladys, I can tell you're talented. Hardworking too. How about becoming my secretary?"

Among all his new "hires," Gladys Fox stood out. Stunning face, curves in all the right places, a smile that lit up the room.

She'd become Warren's latest prey.

"I'd love to! Thank you so much for believing in me, Mr. Gilbert. I promise I'll work hard!"

Gladys thought she'd landed a wealthy businessman. She was practically throwing herself at him.

Two weeks later, I called Warren.

To discuss the divorce date.

Gladys answered his phone instead. Her voice dripped with syrupy sweetness.

"Oh, Mrs. Gilbert? Mr. Gilbert had a bit too much to drink. I'm just helping him back to the hotel to rest. Maybe call back when he's sobered up?"

My heart lurched.

Why was a woman answering his phone?

"Who is this?" I demanded. "Are you one of Warren's secretaries?"

"That's right."

Her voice was languid, utterly unbothered.

"Mr. Gilbert saw my potential right away. Picked me out of all the other girls."

"It's truly an honor to serve him."

My voice turned cold. I cut her off.

"Let me give you some advice. Warren Gilbert is bad news. Quit that job and get out while you can."

Gladys just laughed.