Reborn Heiress: Divorcing The Ruthless Billionaire

Night fell over Manhattan.

Gerard pushed open the door to the penthouse. He smelled faintly of scotch.

The apartment was pitch black. The warm yellow lamp on the console table, the one Alondra always left on for him, was off.

He yanked his tie loose and flipped the main light switch. The harsh LED lights made him squint.

He walked into the kitchen to pour a glass of ice water. He looked at the marble island. It was completely empty. There was no hangover soup waiting in a thermos.

A hollow, sinking feeling hit his stomach. He hated it.

He turned and walked quickly down the hall to the master bedroom. He went straight to the walk-in closet and grabbed the handle of her wardrobe door. He yanked it open.

The rows of custom haute couture dresses hung in silent, expensive rows—untouched. But the sections for her basic tees and jeans were hollow and bare.

He spun around and walked into the master bathroom. The marble vanity still held the expensive creams he’d bought her, lined up like museum exhibits. But her toothbrush and daily essentials were gone.

Gerard stared at the empty white marble. His breathing sped up. She wasn't throwing a tantrum. She had left his wealth behind and erased herself from his life.

A surge of panic mixed with rage hit him. He pulled his arm back and punched the bathroom mirror. The glass cracked, spiderwebbing across his reflection. But the violent outburst didn't soothe the gnawing emptiness in his chest. His breathing heavy, he stepped slowly into the walk-in closet. He stopped in front of a small velvet drawer she had accidentally left slightly open. Inside was a single, pale blue silk scarf she used to wear. Gerard reached out with trembling fingers and picked it up. He pressed the soft fabric against his face, inhaling deeply. The faint, lingering scent of her jasmine perfume hit his senses, twisting his stomach into knots. His eyes squeezed shut, a dark, twisted mix of rage and a sickening, pathological obsession washing over his features.

The next morning, the sun hit the glass facade of the Lang Group headquarters.

Alondra walked through the revolving doors. She wore a razor-sharp white blazer and matching trousers. Her heels clicked rhythmically against the floor.

Employees stopped and stared. Whispers broke out immediately. Everyone knew the boss's granddaughter was a disgraced housewife.

Alondra ignored them. She walked straight to the executive elevator.

The doors opened on the top floor. She stepped out and nearly collided with Isai Lang.

Isai wore a loud, custom-tailored blue suit. When he saw her, a massive, overly enthusiastic fake smile stretched across his face.

"Ally! Welcome back!" Isai shouted, opening his arms wide for a hug.

Alondra stepped back, creating a physical barrier. She extended her right hand.

Isai's arms dropped. His smile twitched. He took her hand, giving it a quick, cold shake.

"I heard about the divorce," Isai said loudly, making sure the nearby assistants heard. "It's okay to take time off to heal. You don't have to force yourself to work."

Alondra looked at him with dead eyes. "My personal life is none of your concern, Isai. Focus on your profit margins."

Isai's fake smile vanished. His eyes turned dark and calculating. He rubbed his hands together.

"Actually," Isai sneered, "I have a board meeting in ten minutes regarding the SegaCorp acquisition. You should sit in. You might learn something."

He emphasized the word 'learn'.

"I'd love to," Alondra said smoothly.

Ten minutes later, Alondra walked into the massive glass-walled boardroom.

The room was packed with senior executives. The chatter died instantly when she walked in.

Isai was standing near the head of the table. He pointed to an empty chair at the very far end, near the door. "Have a seat down there, Ally."

Alondra didn't look at the chair. She walked straight to the top of the table. She pulled out the heavy leather chair immediately to the right of the empty Chairman's seat-the second most powerful position in the room.

She sat down, crossed her legs, and placed her folder on the table. The entire room gasped.