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Chapter Twelve: Mrs. D'Amico
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Trillionaire After Divorce Chapter One: At Least
"You should sign."Vincent says with ease as he hands me a blue pen over the poor excuse of a ‘bed in breakfast’ he set up.I can humour his attempt at making pancakes by eating them despite them being undercooked, but the attempt at wooing me seems attached to a ridiculous document.The more I skim it, the more the grease used to make the pancake rises up my throat.I can't believe this."What?"I ask, just to make sure he is aware of what he is asking."Sign the documents. The doctors will only take a small piece of your liver and give it to my mother. It's a perfectly safe solution."I know his mother has a liver issue, and a few weeks ago, we all tested out of formality to see who a perfect match would be to donate. Still, she is the same woman who slapped me because I ‘oversalted’ her son’s food even though Vincent said it was fine—forgive me if my liver testing was more out of ‘peer pressure’ than the genuine interest to help her.“You said you would help.”Vincent reminds me whe
Trillionaire After Divorce Chapter Two: Anything
"What?" Vincent asks, a deathly stillness lacing his voice. “Divorce, I want a divorce.” "A divorce for what? Tasha, explain why you are here; show her the stain on your clothes." He insists, and so I turn to her, but a frozen panic marks her expression. "I-I-...Livy, don't you believe your husband?” Hah…so much for ‘friendship.’ "I am Olivia to you now, to both of you.” "Where the hell do you think you are going?" Vincent asks with a raised voice as I spin away from him. I need to leave this house; I can get my things later. “Livy! I asked you a question: where the hell do you think you are going?” "Away." "Stop right there!" He calls after me, but I do not; this could be the first time I have disobeyed him while he is aggressive with his anger. I can't help the racing of my heart that feels constricted in my chest or the pounding of my head at the facts that I ignored; of course, this is why he stopped sleeping with me because he could sate his lust elsewhere! I can't
Trillionaire After Divorce Chapter Three: Period
“Anything?” The more the man repeats that word, the more sinful it sounds. But I can give ‘anything’ and everything to keep my organs intact; I have no qualms about donating, but can't it be to someone I can wish well for? Can't it be by my will? Can't I have more of a say than this? So, I guess in this case, ‘anything’ fits. I nod slowly to the man’s repetition, and his chuckle echoes as he bends over to collect me from the ground. "Boss, I can carry her." One of the men in black around him offers, but he shakes his head. "She is my dog now." My arms surround his shoulders, accepting his demeaning term of me because if I can survive the night, then I will clutch on to the devil himself. The man smells good, like aftershave and a subtle hint of expensive cologne. His deep chuckle follows when I bury my nose against his chest. “She even smells me like a dog.” He utters, making me jerk my face away from him. Shit. This is embarrassing. “Well, don't stop now, doggy. I'm your
Trillionaire After Divorce Chapter Four: Everything
The butterflies in my stomach seem to want to spill. My gaze lands on the first seat in the lab before I slump down, starting with the heavy books in my arms. I should have brought a backpack. A person from beside me clears their throat; she is pretty with dark hair, brown eyes and light freckles that greatly disservice her bold and rebellious make up choice. Come to think of it, weren't the people at the table noisy before I sat? Did I interrupt them? Good job, Olivia; let’s ruin our first day of university! "I'm sorry." I begin, "Was there someone sitting here?" "Yes." The dark-haired woman answers before a handsome man with dark eyes interrupts her. "Cut her some slack, Tasha. You can sit. I'm the one who kept quiet; I was...rapping. Which is probably not the most ideal thing to do in a classroom." He responds with a faint blush. "You rap?" I ask, and his face softens to a smile before his lips part, letting eloquent and somewhat raunchy lines about my eyes and lips fl
Trillionaire After Divorce Chapter Five: White Chocolate
Matteo D’Amico Olivia Lawson had light brown hair that resembled honey, hazel eyes with a slight blue hue, soft, plump lips, and a body that the gods must have carved. He loved the sight of the ass that had wiggled on the floor as its helpless owner crawled desperately to safety at the hospital. She looked beautiful when she turned to him, even with her eyelids half closed and her body trembling with fear. He loved how she clung to him afterwards as if he were her beacon of hope. Of course, he was at the time. She had been interesting enough to grab his attention, and when she asked for a divorce from her supposed husband, he saw a chance with her. He could pretend to be her friend, pretend to be sympathetic, pretend to understand her until he could have her for a night and rid himself of the lust he felt around her, but Christ on a cracker, she was a Lawson. He had been looking for an opportunity to get close to the family; most ‘old money’ families feared him, but the Lawsons h
Trillionaire After Divorce Chapter Six: What a Shame
By the time I turn my attention from Elizabeth back to the armed man, he is gone.“What kind of ninja bullsh-”My mutter is cut short by the feel of liquid on my fingers; there is still some blood on my wedding ring from when I slashed Mr Simmon’s earlier.I should have returned the ring; I must have gotten so used to wearing it that-“Seriously, Livy, let's go!”I roll my eyes at my younger sister’s impatience, especially because she was the late one; still, I walk towards her car and enter before more vehicles cue at the pickup/drop off point.Elizabeth's car is packed, stuffed to the brim with suitcases; some still have their seal from the airport, perhaps from her last vacation."Shouldn't you have taken the essentials? I can barely see the cars behind us; driving like this is unsafe!”"Relax. It's fine."She says as she fiddles with the radio before setting on a pop station and driving us off."Were you having dinner with a friend or looking for somewhere else to spend the night
Trillionaire After Divorce Chapter Seven: Rag Doll
"Livy!" "Vincent, I'm serious; he grabbed my-" "Livy, I didn't ask you to cook this dinner so that you can pick apart my coworkers. This night is important for me. If I get this promotion, we can move to a bigger house and go on fancier dates." "I don't need-" "There you two are! Slithered away, have you?" Vincent's hand snakes around my waist as the newly retired general manager of Vincent’s company swaggers in the kitchen where Vincent and I are having a private discussion. He doesn’t seem to care that he is interrupting us, but that could be because his cheeks are flushed from the alcohol I served. "Yes, I am just giving my wife a few notes on the hors d'oeuvres she has served." Vincent defends as if we have no right to be in our kitchen. "Mrs James, you have done a fantastic job. Thank you for hosting my retirement party." Vincent’s former boss says. I didn't want to host the party; he has a wife who can do this for him! "Ah, it's nothing, Mr Harris." Vincent answers on
Trillionaire After Divorce Chapter Eight: Madam
My hand reaches for the pitcher of water at the centre of the table; it's cold and frosty. One girl out of the three seated winces as if I am about to douse her with the cold water, but instead, I pour the liquid into her half-full glass. “There are a lot of things on my mind, but guess what takes the cake?” I ask, but none of them answer; they only look at each other as if they want to run. “‘How influential and important to my company are these three ladies to gossip about their boss openly and loudly.’ Really, I can’t wrap my head around it. How can I not know your names and how important you must be for me to overlook this?” I press the question, but again, none of them says anything. Finally, after what feels like a full minute, one of the ladies gasp when the cold water overflowing from the glass to the table finally drips onto her skirt. She stands abruptly with her eyes widened. "Sit. Down." She does as I command. Like a scared puppy, she sits on the now wet chair and co
Latest chapter
- Trillionaire After Divorce Chapter Twelve: Mrs. D'Amico
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- Trillionaire After Divorce Chapter Nine: Imagining
- Trillionaire After Divorce Chapter Eight: Distasteful
- Trillionaire After Divorce Chapter Seven: My Type
- Trillionaire After Divorce Chapter Six: A Storybook Ending
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- Trillionaire After Divorce Chapter Four: Right
