Love After Divorce: The Billionaire's Pursuit

In the moment of the car accident, my husband abandoned me to protect the daughter of a major investor.

After ditching the unfaithful man, I stopped being frugal and returned to my life as a lady of leisure, designer clothes, luxury vacations, and exclusive memberships...

But who would have thought that everything I fancied was also desired by a certain aristocrat from New York?

At first, he sneered and said, "You? Do you even belong in the same league as me?"

Later, he looked at me eagerly. "Would you divorce and marry me? If not, I'd even be your secret lover for love's sake."

1

My husband of seven years ended up with the daughter of a major investor.

He told me it was to secure investment by keeping her happy, but I sensed something unusual about their relationship.

Sure enough, when the car in front veered towards us, my premonition came true.

Domenic Johnson, sitting in the back seat, ignored my safety and lunged forward to shield Chelsey White in the passenger seat. The airbags deployed, and Chelsey was unharmed under the double protection.

Meanwhile, shattered glass flew onto Domenic's head and my body.

By the time the ambulance arrived, he was already unconscious from a severe head injury.

I lay amidst the wreckage, watching a trickle of blood flow down his once handsome and gentle face.

Yet, I no longer recognized him.

2

After receiving treatment for my wounds, the doctor advised me to lie flat on the hospital bed.

I struggled to sit up and dragged the IV stand to Domenic's room.

He was still unconscious, with Chelsey by his side.

Her beautiful eyes were red from crying, and she looked away when she saw me.

I picked up Domenic's phone, its screen cracked but still functional. The password was my birthday.

Realizing what I was about to do, Chelsey tried to snatch the phone from me.

I gave her a cold look, and she withdrew her hand.

Thus, I found their chat history.

The accident happened at 9:33 PM, and they were still chatting at 9:31 PM.

"Domenic, I really like you."

"I like you too."

"Aren't you afraid Leah will find out?"

"Isn't that what makes it exciting?"

As I scrolled up, I saw messages from long ago, filled with romantic words and mutual affection.

While I was in the emergency room with a fever at midnight.

While we attended award ceremonies together.

While we visited his parents for New Year's Eve dinner.

While I blew out candles and made a wish on my twenty-eighth birthday.

Domenic had been rotten for a long time.

3

At four in the morning, after my IV finished, I went downstairs for a walk.

Thanks to Chelsey's father's connections, we were placed in a VIP ward.

On this spring night, cherry blossoms were in full bloom, resembling a sea of pink petals shimmering under the moonlight.

I heard a man talking on the phone not far away. As a music producer, I was very sensitive to sound.

His voice was clear and pleasant, like the tinkling of porcelain.

"Why should I report to you? We've already broken up."

It turned out to be a couple arguing. I sighed, my mind swirling with memories of Domenic.

In the past, whenever we argued, he would always be the first to apologize, his gentle nature giving me the illusion of being deeply loved.

The more beautiful the past, the harsher the present seemed. As the autumn wind whispered its melancholy, I felt the urge to cry.

But the man's voice interrupted my thoughts, especially when he mentioned "Brenna Hudson".

Brenna was a singer I had worked with, recently awarded the best prize at a music festival.

The man, with his captivating voice, was angry. "I've already bought you one award. You want a second one? Brenna, you're too greedy."

Wow, even on a walk, I stumbled upon such explosive news.

I wanted to return to my room but happened to run into the man on the phone.

He had hung up and was about to smoke.

Seeing my hospital gown, he softly apologized and put away the cigarette.

I kept my head down and didn't look at him as we passed each other.

But he suddenly spoke, "Are you Leah Barrett?"

I looked up and saw his face, half hidden in the shadow of the cherry blossoms, half illuminated by the clear moonlight, possessing an enigmatic beauty.

"I'm Trevor, a friend of Chelsey's. I advise you... don't compete with her for men. She loves married men, and once she sets her sights on someone, they never escape."

Trevor Jones.

I recognized the name, belonging to the same elite socialites from the capital as Chelsey.

Ha-ha, these elite socialites from New York sure know how to play, keeping singers and toying with married men.

I glared at him, leaning slightly closer to him under the cherry blossom tree, and uttered the first sentence I spoke to him that night.

"Scram."

4

After being discharged from the hospital, I filed for divorce.

I had a lawyer handle the property notarization. Over the past five years, Domenic and I worked hard together, acquiring two apartments, a car, and some savings in New York.

I didn't want the car. Splitting everything else evenly would suffice.

Domenic knelt before me, tears streaming down his face. "Honey, I absolutely refuse to divorce. I love you, I still love you! Everything with Chelsey was fake, just an act to attract investment!"

I smirked, pulling out my phone to record. "Go on, I'll send your confession to Chelsey. How about that?"

He fell silent immediately.

After a moment, he spoke again, "If you won't consider our relationship, at least think about our business. We're a partnership now, and if either of us leaves, it would cause irreparable damage."

That was true, but I had long since lost interest in that so-called business.

I once studied music to create the beautiful melodies I dreamed of, rather than like now, catering to the lowbrow tastes of second-generation rich kids and deceiving the public.

I had strayed far from my original passion for music.

Domenic was adamant about not divorcing, so I had no choice but to file a lawsuit.

However, the divorce process typically took six months.

I dreaded the thought of how torturous those six months would be.

The man I once thought I loved most had betrayed me, yet I still had to live under the guise of marriage with him.

I decided to let loose and live a little.

I had once been frugal to support our business, stretching every penny.

I wore basic, budget-friendly clothing year-round and only bought discounted items at the supermarket.

Now, well, I could buy whatever I wanted!

The day after filing for divorce, I went on a shopping spree, buying a heap of clothes I had always liked but never dared to purchase.

When my mother-in-law heard about the divorce, she flew in from our hometown to persuade us.

But when she saw my stack of new clothes, she frowned with disapproval.

"Leah, you and Domenic worked hard for your money. You can't just squander it like this. Let me advise you."

I cut her off, "I don't want to hear it."

She began wailing dramatically, "What did I do to deserve this? How could you do this to me? It's shortening my life."

I knew reasoning with her was futile, so I silently packed my bags.

That evening, I headed straight to a luxury watch store.

"I'll take this one and that one, wrap them up for me!"

5

The sales assistant beamed, "You clearly have an eye for quality. Just earlier, a gentleman was admiring this Omega model."

I wasn't an expert, but I had loved watches since college.

Back then, I vowed to collect every luxury watch brand, and Domenic would laugh along, promising to help me fulfill that dream once we made it big.

Now, I realized those were empty promises. Relying on myself was the only way.

I swiped my credit card and headed to the rooftop revolving restaurant in the city center.

The prices were steep, but I wanted to indulge alone.

Gazing at the sea of city lights through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I felt both expansive and desolate.

I thought of my family, my parents' divorce when I was young, each remarrying and having new children.

From middle school on, I lived in dorms, always feeling homeless.

Later, I met Domenic, fell in love, and thought I had finally found a home in this vast world.

Now, it all seemed like a mirage.

I wanted to cry, so I took a swig of red wine, opened the watch box, and admired my collection fervently.

If I couldn't find fulfillment in love, at least I had material possessions, right?

Inside the box was a watch with a starry gray dial, blue hands, and a snow mountain silver snakeskin strap. It lacked a tourbillon and perpetual calendar but was elegantly simple.

Just as I was lost in my admiration, someone interrupted.

Brenna appeared at my table. She used to be so arrogant, lording it over me with her connections and treating me, a music producer, with disdain.

But today, she smiled warmly and said, "Leah, that watch looks familiar. My boyfriend had his eye on it this morning but didn't get a chance to reserve it. How much did you pay? Sell it to me at cost."

Oh, how shameless that was.

I smiled and said, "Sure, but first, sing the original version of 'Gentle Song' for me."

"Gentle Song" was a piece I crafted for her, drawing inspiration from the tranquility of a European countryside lullaby.

I had traveled to New Orleans and Nashville for inspiration, only for Brenna to turn the song into a DJ track and win a festival award.

Brenna's face turned sour. "You want me to sing it now?"

"Yes, right now. Go ahead." I set down my knife and fork, leaned back comfortably in my chair, like a patron in a pleasure house.