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The world-renowned billionaire has divorced, and rumors abound that his wife was nothing more than a trophy wife, a mere pretty face. People believed it was the right decision. However, shortly after the divorce, she became a celebrated medical professor, dazzling everyone with her skills. She even mysteriously rose to fame as a global racing queen, amassing countless fans. Meanwhile, her ex-husband shamelessly pursued her every day. She coolly retorted. "I have no interest in you anymore. I'm going after little hotties." The billionaire intercepted her one night, laughing as he said, "How can a little hottie compare to me?"
Park Avenue Manor was the priciest estate in Havenshire.
At this moment, in one of the villa's bedrooms, as the man's muscular body pressed down, the woman felt a soothing warmth.
She licked her crimson lips, her slender fingers tightly clinging to the man's shoulders, which were bunched up by the force of his power.
The pain and pleasure were heating up bit by bit, like fireworks that never stopped exploding in her mind.
She whimpered, gasped, and even wanted to surrender, but was hit by the man's enduring explosive power, sinking and floating.
After a stormy session, Clara dressed with composure and then turned to the man, her tone very calm. "Darling, don't forget today's schedule. We will go ahead and get the divorce done early."
Matthew Garcia's handsome features flickered with an imperceptible fluctuation. "Cook first. Let's talk after breakfast."
"Sure, Darling." Clara Edwards remained as indifferent as ever, her face showing no emotion.
For some reason, although she readily agreed to the divorce, every time he saw her calm and untroubled appearance, Matthew felt inexplicably annoyed.
Clara went to the kitchen and diligently prepared breakfast.
After today, she and Matthew would end their three-year contractual marriage, so she would try her best to meet his requests.
Even when Matthew came back drunk yesterday, he wanted her, and she gave in.
Although she didn't understand why he wanted to sleep with her after proposing divorce, she didn't resist. After all, he was so handsome, so why not enjoy it?
Clara skillfully prepared a hearty breakfast.
There were sandwiches and the cream of mushroom soup she had carefully prepared.
Matthew sat at the dining table, his exquisitely handsome face expressionless.
He glanced around at the full table of dishes that were visually and aromatically appealing, unable to discern what emotions he felt.
Clara sat down opposite him, smiling at him as usual.
"Darling, if there's nothing you like, I can make something else."
Upon hearing her call him Darling, Matthew's fingertips barely paused, then he picked up his spoon and took a small taste.
"Have the materials for the divorce been prepared?"
Matthew didn't comment on her cooking skills but went straight to the topic of the day. Clara curled her lips, as indifferent as always. "Of course, everything is ready. Today is our last meal together."
Clara's demeanor was light and casual throughout as if today was not her divorce day, but a grand celebration.
Matthew should have felt relieved, but at this moment, a sudden surge of anger welled up in his heart.
Clearly, it was he who proposed the divorce, and she didn't make a fuss. He should have been happy, but she treated it as if it was a very ordinary matter as if these three years of marriage were not worth her attention.
"About yesterday?" Matthew tried to use yesterday's matter to see her attitude again.
But before he could finish, Clara interrupted wisely, "Let's just consider yesterday's thing as our farewell. I won't hold it against you. Don't worry."
Matthew felt as if his heart was blocked by cotton when he heard this. He thought she would use this matter to make him delay the divorce but who knew she was more open-minded than he thought?
Matthew's dark eyes concealed all emotions, his voice unusually cold. "If you have any conditions, feel free to mention them, the house, the car, or cash..."
"Thanks, Darling, but none of that is needed."
Clara lightly curved her bright eyes, her appearance beautiful. Under the light, her skin was almost as smooth as milk.
Matthew was momentarily dazzled by her beauty, thinking that their marital relationship over the past three years was not as others said.
Rumors had it that Matthew's wife was just a random person he pulled in to block family arranged marriages.
Though it was true, their three years of married life were filled with daily warmth and sweetness. They always treated each other with respect.
Even the lovemaking last night was no less passionate than any other couple.
Upon thinking of this, the fire in Matthew's heart burned more intensely.
His Adam's apple rolled a few times, barely calming his emotions.
"You don't have to feel guilty. You've been married to me for three years. This is what you deserve, and you can maintain the status quo or do something else in the future."
Clara was indeed the most beautiful woman Matthew had ever seen.
But he always felt that besides beauty, she was useless, with no career, no ideals, and only willing to stay at home to arrange flowers and do some housework every day.
Like her such a lazy and confused lady, after the divorce, he couldn't help but worry about how she would live.
But he looked at her face again. Even without makeup, it was enough to make men crazy.
After their divorce, there would still be a lot of men who wanted to support her.
Matthew hid his strange emotions and then got up.
"Let's go. See you at City Hall."
Clara looked at him urging her without eating a few mouthfuls.
This man was really eager to get rid of her.
But a moment later, Clara picked up her mobile phone, her fingers flying on the keyboard, sending a message.
[I'm getting divorced today. After the divorce, we are going to have fun.]
The other side replied quickly, [Where to have fun?]
[At Pegasus Racing Club, and bring my Purple Angel over?]
The other side sent a shocked emoji. [Oh, come on. Forget it. You haven't touched racing for three years. What if something happens? Besides, they seem to want you to go back and inherit the position. If you are caught, you will have worked in vain for three years.]
[I want to have fun and celebrate my divorce. Besides, I don't plan to hide.]
[Okay, I'll bring the car to you tomorrow.]
After sending the message, Clara went back to the room.
When Clara was packing, she saw her doctor's license in the small iron box. A pair of delicate hands touched the photo, and she was still a green girl in the photo.
Three years ago, Clara was known as the Hand of God in the industry. She had been disguised for too long, and it was time to restore her original identity.
She was a world-renowned divine doctor, the CEO of a publicly traded company, the most formidable female mercenary, and a top-tier tech genius. Marissa, a titan with a plethora of secret identities, had hidden her true stature to marry a seemingly impoverished young man. However, on the eve of their wedding, her fiance, who was actually the lost heir to a wealthy dynasty, called off the engagement and subjected her to degradation and mockery. Upon the revelation of her concealed identities, her ex-fiance was left stunned and desperately pleaded for her forgiveness. Standing protectively before Marissa, an incredibly influential and fearsome magnate declared, "This is my wife. Who would dare try to claim her?"
After being kicked out of her home, Harlee learned she wasn't the biological daughter of her family. Rumors had it that her impoverished biological family favored sons and planned to profit from her return. Unexpectedly, her real father was a zillionaire, catapulting her into immense wealth and making her the most cherished member of the family. While they anticipated her disgrace, Harlee secretly held design patents worth billions. Celebrated for her brilliance, she was invited to mentor in a national astronomy group, drew interest from wealthy suitors, and caught the eye of a mysterious figure, ascending to legendary status.
Desperate to handle her grandmother's towering medical bills, Gianna agreed to a contract marriage with Tristan, the enigmatic man she'd once shared a one-night stand with. She assumed they'd fulfill each other's needs and dissolve the arrangement once the terms expired. Unbeknownst to Gianna, this marriage was a dream Tristan had clung to for ten relentless years. Certain she was just filling someone else's role, Gianna prepared to leave when that other woman returned. But Tristan, his eyes burning with unspoken emotion, seized her trembling hand and declared, "You’re mine. Now and always."
"I heard you're going to marry Marcelo. Is this perhaps your revenge against me? It's very laughable, Renee. That man can barely function." Her foster family, her cheating ex, everyone thought Renee was going to live in pure hell after getting married to a disabled and cruel man. She didn't know if anything good would ever come out of it after all, she had always thought it would be hard for anyone to love her but this cruel man with dark secrets is never going to grant her a divorce because she makes him forget how to breathe.
Kaelyn devoted three years tending to her husband after a terrible accident. But once he was fully recovered, he cast her aside and brought his first love back from abroad. Devastated, Kaelyn decided on a divorce as people mocked her for being discarded. She went on to reinvent herself, becoming a highly sought-after doctor, a champion racer, and an internationally renowned architectural designer. Even then, the traitors sneered in disdain, believing Kaelyn would never find someone. But then the ex-husband’s uncle, a powerful warlord, returned with his army to ask for Kaelyn’s hand in marriage.
"You're a creepy bastard." His eyes smolder me and his answering grin is nothing short of beautiful. Deadly. "Yet you hunger for me. Tell me, this appetite of yours, does it always tend toward 'creepy bastards'?" **** Widower and ex-boss to the Mafia, Zefiro Della Rocca, has an unhealthy fixation on the woman nextdoor. It began as a coincidence, growing into mere curiosity, and soon, it was an itch he couldn't ignore, like a quick fix of crack for an addict. He didn't know her name, but he knew every inch of her skin, how it flushed when she climaxed, her favourite novel and that every night she contemplated suicide. He didn't want to care, despising his rapt fascination of the woman. She was in love with her abusive husband. She was married, bound by a contract to the Bratva's hitman. She was off-limits. But when Zefiro wanted something, it was with an intensity that bordered on madness. He obsessed, possessed, owned. There'd be bloodshed if he touched her, but the sight of blood always did fascinate him. * When Susanna flees from her husband, she stumbles right into the arms of her devilishly handsome neighbour with a brooding glare. He couldn't stand her, but she needed him, if she was ever going to escape her husband who now wanted her dead. Better the devil you know than the angel you don't. She should have recalled that before hopping into Zefiro's car and letting him whisk her away to Italy. Maybe then, she wouldn't have started an affair with him. He was the only man who touched her right, and the crazy man took no small pains in ensuring he would be the last.