Why Do Things Go Missing Never Seen After Divorce?

Seven years ago, Elara Vance was a ghost in her own marriage. Married to Charlie Vane the man she saved from a frozen lake as a child she lived in the shadow of her sister, Lydia, who had stolen credit for the rescue. Framed for theft and "paralysis" by her sister and kicked to the mud by her father, Elara was discarded like trash. Now, she’s back. She isn't just a woman with a secret son; she’s the CEO of a global empire that just bought Charlie’s debt. He’s looking for a $10 million heir, unaware that his true legacy is the boy he called a "bastard." Elara is here for more than an apology she’s here to take everything

Two months. Claire only asked two more months from her ignorant husband to save her marriage from falling apart. She loved him too much to let him go. Hunter MacIntyre was reluctant that it would change anything between them. He could never bring himself to fall for Claire while his heart belonged to someone else. But he anyway agreed, and much to Claire's determination, it worked out between them. Hunter was slowly coming out of his aloofness and showing his tender side to her. However, on the much awaited day of their second marriage anniversary, Hunter abandoned her to be with his ex-girlfriend. "It was all a pretense to save myself from going through that wife-hunting shit again after our divorce, Claire. But now she's back. Sign the divorce papers and set me free. I want to be with the true love of my life." She bit back a curse and nodded sternly, "Fine! If that's what you want, I'll set you free. But don't come crawling back to me in the future. Because I won't accept you." Six months later, indeed he came back to her! Want to know what Claire did with her ex-husband? Start reading now;) Ps. At moments you'll hate Claire for her decisions, but trust me, every decision has a motive behind it (which you will love certainly;) (Trigger warning: there might be scenes some may find heartbreaking/disturbing/annoying etc. Please beware. It's a work of fiction and purely meant for entertainment. If you can't handle betrayal, divorce, panic attacks, depression, etc than do not pick up this book. You've been warned! Rest others, who like a spicy story with lots of drama, welcome;)

“Listen, I want a divorce. You signed a contract on the day of our wedding alright?.. You give me a son and we can have a divorce whenever… plus I’m in love with someone else. I’ve always loved her even before we got married and I just want to be with her now… not you.” With that he pick up his suitcase and leaves the room. I know I signed a prenup, but a contract? I follow him down the stairs and out of the house, unable to speak a single word. “I don’t remember a contract.” I finally say to him, my voice sounding so broken and I can’t help but cry more at how foreign my own voice sounds. He stands at the door of his car and stares at me for a while. “I’ll have my lawyer send you a copy of the contract you signed. I’d like to have the divorce finalized before I have to leave the country next month. Have a good night Skylar.” Skylar doesn’t expect this from her husband when he comes home one night, having disappeared two weeks prior. A month later, she’s divorced, disowned and pregnant, working and living in an entirely different city, trying to find herself again. Can she do it? Will she ever be able to find happiness? Jason finds himself miserable after divorcing Skylar. He tries to look for her, but his search is fruitless. Years later, he finally meets her again. However, she isn’t a gullible young lady anymore. He has to struggle to earn her forgiveness. Will he succeed?

Four years of marriage. One signature—his own—that set me free, though he never realized what he was signing. I was Sophia Moretti, the invisible wife of James Moretti, heir to the city’s most powerful mafia family. But when his childhood sweetheart, the dazzling and privileged Vicky, returned, I finally understood: I had always been temporary. So I played my final move. I slid the papers across his desk—divorce disguised as routine university forms. James signed without a second glance, his fountain pen scratching across the page as carelessly as he'd treated our vows, without noticing he was ending our marriage. But I walked away with more than my freedom. Beneath my coat, I carried his unborn heir—a secret that could destroy him when he finally realized what he'd lost. Now, the man who never noticed me is tearing the world apart trying to find me. From his penthouse to the underworld's gutters, he's turning over every stone. But I'm not some trembling prey waiting to be found. I rebuilt myself beyond his reach—where not even a Moretti can follow. This time, I won't be begging for his love. He'll be begging for mine.

On the third day after our divorce was finalized, my ex-wife, Georgie Anderson, sent me a text message. [Why haven’t you transferred your salary from this month to me?] I thought she was joking. [We’re already divorced.] [So? What does it matter if we’re divorced? You should transfer nineteen thousand dollars from your twenty-thousand-dollar income, just like you did before. The remaining one thousand dollars will be your pocket money. When you were unemployed, I was the one who took care of you. Now that we’re divorced, you’re turning your back on me?] I stared at her text messages and fell silent for a really long time. Throughout our three-year marriage, I gave her nineteen thousand dollars out of my twenty-thousand-dollar salary. She was responsible for "budgeting" our household expenses. However, she spent my money on her civil service exam, afternoon teas with her besties, and even on her study partner, whom I’d never met. As for me, I handled all the house chores—cooking dinner, mopping the floors and doing the laundry. But when I took a little time after work to game, she would yell at me for being lazy. She was demanding money from me even after we were divorced. Her reason was that I might spend the money without thinking. I blocked her number. Three seconds later, she sent me a text message from another phone number. [You’ll regret this. I’m trying to help you one last time.] I laughed. ‘Helping me?’ I thought. Nobody had ever helped me in the past three years.

I woke up staring at divorce papers—from the guy I'd crushed on all through college. My name. His. Right there on the page. He said I cheated. Last thing I remembered? Getting ready to finally tell him how I felt at our graduation party. Now suddenly, we've got a four-year-old. And him? He looked at me like I was some rando off the street. No trace of the sweet, soft guy I used to know. Just ice. What did I miss? What the hell happened in the last five years?