What Happens At The End Of Quit Like A Woman?

Like many women who refuse to give up until they hit a dead end, Winter Scott once tried to make a man like Chris Xander fall in love with her. But after three years of marriage, they were nothing more than strangers. When she was brutally attacked and her life was hanging by a thread, Chris wasn’t with her. He was by the side of his former love. Winter forced herself to let go. Yet the powerful man she thought she had left behind refused to disappear from her life. Step by step, he closed in on her, cutting off any chance of a new romance in her life and blocking every path of retreat. “You’re the one who insisted on marrying me back then,” he said coldly. “As long as I don’t agree to a divorce, you’ll never be free of me.” Winter looked at him coldly. “Sorry, Mr. Xander. Game over. This marriage ends when I say it ends.”

"Sign it and leave. Sarah needs me more than you do." Clara Vance had spent three years as a "perfect" ghost—the invisible, dutiful wife of the ruthless billionaire Julian Thorne. She had cooked his meals, ironed his shirts, and endured his coldness, all while hiding her true identity as the world’s most sought-after tech prodigy. She thought her love could melt his icy heart. She was wrong. On their third anniversary, Julian handed her divorce papers. His reason? His first love had returned, and he wanted to give her the life Clara was currently "occupying." Clara didn’t beg. She didn’t cry. She signed the papers with a steady hand and disappeared that same night, carrying a secret that would change his world forever—she was pregnant with his heir. Five Years Later. Julian Thorne is a man haunted by a shadow. He has everything he ever wanted, yet he feels nothing but a void where his "unwanted" wife used to be. At a global economic summit, he prepares to meet the mysterious, "Iron Lady" CEO of the V-Tech Empire—a woman who has been systematically crushing his businesses for months. When the doors open, Julian’s heart stops. Dressed in a power suit, radiating cold elegance and diamond-hard confidence, stands Clara. But she isn’t alone. A mini-version of Julian stands by her side, looking at him with the same icy glare he once gave her. "Mr. Thorne," Clara smiles, and it’s the coldest thing he’s ever seen. "I believe you’re here to discuss the terms of your surrender?" The chase is on. The billionaire is on his knees. But this time, the Queen isn't looking for a King—she’s looking for revenge.

My CEO wife, Vivian Lynch, suffers from chronic insomnia and can only fall asleep with the pillow mists I make. At our seventh wedding anniversary dinner, her male best friend, Earl Cain, pours a basin of hot water onto the old cypress tree in the backyard. I rush to save the tree in tears. Earl gets on his knees and apologizes, "I'm sorry, Allen. I did not know that you use this tree's leaves to make the pillow mists." Vivian comforts him gently and orders her men to tie me to the trunk of the tree. She says with a scoff, "If this tree is so precious, then you can spend your life guarding it!" After I hurt my hands from this ordeal, the first thing I do is to demand a divorce. On one night a month later, Vivian, who is unable to sleep, goes to the backyard and sees the withered old cypress tree there.

At the end of the year, the company made employees vote on who would be laid off. In front of the boss, the votes were read aloud one by one. Natalie Reed. One vote. Natalie. Two votes. Natalie... thirty votes. All thirty people on my team had voted me out. I clenched my fists and looked around at my coworkers. Every single one of them avoided my eyes. Maggie Turner was the oldest on the team. I knew she had to pick up her kid, so whenever she could not finish her work and had to rush to her kid’s school, I stayed behind and cleaned up after her. Dylan joined last year. He was losing sleep every night over money for his wedding. I squeezed time out of my own schedule, helped him complete his project, and got him a two-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus. And the trainee closest to me started trembling the moment I looked at her. She looked just as timid as she had when her hands shook and spilled wine all over a client. Back then, to fix the mess for her, I apologized to the client and drank until I had a stomach hemorrhage. Only then did she pass probation. I could not help feeling hurt. The boss looked at the result and asked if I had anything to say. I took a deep breath and asked everyone on the team, “Why did you vote for me?” My timid trainee suddenly found her courage. “Because you always pretend to help people, then steal our credit.” “Otherwise, how could someone as useless as you become the top salesperson?” I laughed, took off my employee badge, and placed it on the table. A week later, my boss was kneeling outside my door, begging me, the so-called useless one, to come back to the company.

Just because I point out a mistake in the intern, Lester Hale's proposal that can cost the company millions of dollars, he feels embarrassed and goes straight to Sandra Wendell, the CEO, threatening to quit. The next second, she storms into my office and starts grilling me. "Couldn't you have spoken to him privately? Lester's young, and his ego's fragile. Why did you have to humiliate him in front of everyone? Don't forget, his dad's a major shareholder. I'm giving you two options now. "One, I'll promote Lester, give him a raise, and you'll become his assistant. That way, I'll agree to officially announce our relationship. Two, keep acting like this, and we break up." When I remain silent, she smirks triumphantly. "I knew you'd never pass up a chance to go public with our relationship. Now, you can clear your office for Lester. Later—" But I calmly cut her off, "Sorry, but I choose the second option, and I'm resigning. I wish you and Lester a happily ever after."

Bored of having nothing to do at home, I hide my identity and apply for a job as a designer at the company my son, Jonathan Grady, runs. A few months later, I'm informed that the company wants to optimize its workforce, and I'm the first to get axed. "Why?" "Because you're menopausal. You can't get pregnant." Hearing that makes me scoff. What kind of absurd reason is that? "A designer uses her brains to do her job, no? When did a womb become so important?" I point at Sasha Johnson, who'd been hired before me and was now sitting at her desk, snacking on popcorn instead of working. "Her line compositions are still a complete mess, and she spends all of her time watching TV shows in the office. But just because she's pregnant, she's not included in the company's layoffs?" Fiona Lewis, the HR manager, looks at me as though I'm an idiot. "How can an old hag like you, who still has to work, compare yourself to her? She's pregnant with the boss' baby, you know. She's the future Mrs. Grady! The money we save from having to pay your salary can go toward buying her prenatal supplements." I freeze in shock. Did my son knock up one of his employees? But he told me he didn't want to have any kids!