Divorce Make Me A Tycoon, My Ex Meet His Doom

Angel Private Hospital

The pain came in waves.

Christine Woods lay on the narrow hospital bed, clutching her stomach with one hand, cold sweat trickling down her forehead. Her face was pale as paper, and her lips were cracked from dryness.

The IV drip had been trickling by her bedside for quite a while now, yet she felt no relief whatsoever.

She stared at the chat window with Neil Caffrey.

This was the message she had sent him at 10 p.m. last night. She hadn't received his reply until she passed out from vomiting and was rushed to the hospital by the butler.

Stop faking it. I have a business dinner tonight and won't be coming back.

Christine looked at the message on the screen, a faint pang of bitterness rising in her heart.

Neil seemed to have grown accustomed to ignoring her messages. She knew he had a business dinner yesterday, but the stomach cramps had been unbearable. she couldn't stop herself from sending that message.

For the past three years of their marriage, whenever his business dinners ran late, he would simply sleep at the office.

But she was sick now. why could he remain so indifferent and unmoved?

She didn't realize when it happened, but tears began streaming down her cheeks.

Just as she was about to lock the screen, a sudden notification chimed from her IG app. It was from her sister-in-law, Sofia Caffrey. She had posted something.

Christine hesitated for half a second before tapping it. A photo immediately filled her screen.

It was a picture of her husband, Neil, hugging another woman, chatting and laughing under the warm lights of a restaurant. The woman rested her head on Neil's shoulder, and he gazed at her with eyes full of love.

They looked like a couple deeply in love.

Christine's heart skipped a beat.

Was this what he meant by "business dinner"?

And the caption Sofia posted stung like a knife.

I am so happy! I never thought Vivian was still alive! Look at my brother-he was smiling from ear to ear. I'm so happy for them.

The timestamp glowed mercilessly at the top of the post.

It was exactly the same time she had been rushed into the emergency room, begging her husband to come and help her.

Christine was very familiar with that woman.

It was none other than Vivian Clark-Neil's first love, who was supposed to be dead.

They had dated for four years before breaking up. After Vivian left to study overseas, news of her sudden death had reached them.

From then on, her name became Neil's untouchable sore spot.

So she was still alive after all.

Christine's throat tightened. Had they been together all night?

Comments flooded in from their friends. No one seemed to care whether Christine could see this post.

Oh my God, Vivian is alive! Thank goodness! The two of them sitting together is just what I needed.

The most enviable couple at our university back then have finally reunited! Your brother's profile picture is still that blue cat he and Vivian raised together.

Haven't you noticed? That person's eyes look just like Vivian's.

That person? Were they talking about her?

Christine clutched her phone tightly, her fingers going numb.

Her chest constricted as a sharp pain pierced her heart, as if something were gripping it violently. The truth slammed into her without mercy-he hadn't just ignored her.

He had lied.

Before she could even think, she had already pressed the call button.

After several rings, the other party finally picked up.

"What is it?" The magnetic voice carried a hint of impatience.

"Where are you?" Christine asked, her throat tight.

"At the office. Christine, it's six in the morning. I didn't get to bed until three last night after a business dinner. Could you give me a break?"

"Which client?" she asked, clinging to a sliver of hope. "Do I know them?"

The man on the other end paused briefly before replying. "You don't know them. They're all men."

He caught on, his tone growing even more impatient. "Christine, are you interrogating me?"

The more you try to hide it, the more obvious it becomes.

Christine clenched her phone as something inside her finally shattered.

Disappointment, frustration, and sorrow flooded her chest, leaving her breathless.

"Enough!" Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Her voice trembled as she finally asked the question she'd been holding back.

"So. am I just her stand-in?"

Neil froze for a moment before his irritation flared again.

"What nonsense are you spouting now? Is it fun to be jealous every single day?"

Christine closed her eyes.

"Neil, it's over between us."

"Let's get a divorce."

Then she hung up.

Neil stared at the disconnected call in disbelief, rubbing his eyes to make sure the name on the screen really was Christine.

Divorce?

How could she propose a divorce?

Everyone knew Christine was madly in love with him!

And on top of that, the Woods family had gone bankrupt. How could she bear to leave him?

Neil naturally assumed he had misheard.

He had only fallen asleep at three in the morning, and with a meeting at ten, he had just five hours left to rest. He locked his screen decisively, closed his eyes, and tried to sleep again.

*****

In truth, Christine's demand for divorce wasn't an impulsive outburst. The thought had been circling her mind for a long time.

When her father was alive, he had once told her,

"Christine, your father can give you wealth and status. All I ask is that your future husband treats you as well as I have."

But Dad, did you ever realize how incredibly difficult it is to find a man who loves me the way you did?

Tears streamed silently down her face.

While Neil was drowning in grief over Vivian's death, Christine had reached out to him, trying to thaw his heart and help him rebuild. She believed a man who loved deeply was always better than one who was cold and indifferent.

Yet after marrying Neil, she discovered that his deep affection was reserved for only one person.

Three years passed. No matter how hard Christine tried, she couldn't warm that heart. Suddenly, she no longer wanted to keep going.

Ha. As if by fate, the very person he had been longing for had come back to life.

She laughed mockingly.

The buzzing vibration of her phone abruptly pulled her out of her thoughts. She glanced at the screen and answered.

"Mom."

"Christine, your brother's tuition for next year needs to be paid. Tell Neil to transfer twenty thousand dollars immediately-his homeroom teacher just called to remind us!"

Christine's glassy eyes flickered slightly.

"Mom, what's the latest deadline?"

There was a moment of stunned silence before her mother's voice rose sharply.

"What do you mean? Is Neil refusing to pay?"

Back when their family was prosperous, the Caffreys had taken advantage of them countless times. How dare he refuse now?

"No," Christine replied flatly.

Ever since her father passed away and the family went bankrupt, her mother still lived extravagantly, sending her younger brother to an international school, desperately trying to prove that-even bankrupt-she remained unchanged.

It was easy to go from frugality to extravagance, but hard to go from extravagance to frugality.

"Mom, I'll contact the homeroom teacher myself. Don't worry about it."

"Then don't forget to renew the tuition promptly-don't let your brother be ridiculed by his classmates!"

Christine hung up, emotions tangled in her chest. But a resolute glint flashed in her eyes.

Her pale fingers flew over the keyboard as she typed a message to a friend.

[Emma, do you know any divorce lawyers?]

Stone and Sterling Law Firm

"Madam, our attorney, Mr. Thompson, requires appointments booked a month in advance. Without a prior reservation, you'll have to come another day."

"Is there another lawyer here today who specializes in divorce cases? I. it's urgent."

The receptionist looked troubled. "Our other attorney, Ms. Clark, is attending a city meeting today. If you're not in a rush, you could wait. But just so you know, Ms. Clark won't be back until at least eleven."

Christine smiled behind her mask. "Alright. I'll wait on the sofa. Thank you."

The two receptionists couldn't help glancing toward the sofa. Their curiosity was understandable-Christine's glasses, mask, and long sleeves made her stand out rather than blend in.

"Hey, look at her long sleeves. Could she be wearing sunglasses because of that?"

"Because of what?"

"Domestic violence. Think about it-prominent figures wouldn't have trouble booking appointments, but ordinary people wear glasses to hide family shame, right?"

"Oh. that's awful. I'll ask Ms. Clark how soon she might be back."

Just as the receptionist felt a surge of sympathy for Christine, a tall figure leaned over the counter.

"Which office is Henry Thompson in?" The man's deep, magnetic voice echoed above them.

The receptionist looked up and began to explain, "Mr. Thompson requires appointments booked a week in advance. Without one, it's impossible-"

But when she recognized the man's sharp, handsome features-holy crap, this guy was way too. way too handsome.

His eyes carried a hint of coldness, his nose was straight and prominent, and his face was chiseled like a sculpture-utterly flawless. The black suit hugged his broad shoulders and narrow waist, making both receptionists blush.

The man tilted his head slightly. He didn't look at them, instead casting a faint glance toward the purple silhouette on the sofa.

His voice was cool. "Tell him Edward is here."

Overwhelmed by his intense aura, the receptionist stammered, "Y-Yes, sir!"

Christine felt an inexplicable, burning gaze pierce the back of her neck, as if it could scorch through her skin.

By the time she turned to investigate, all she saw was the receding silhouette of a man in a crisp suit.

The young woman who had greeted her earlier with polite yet haughty professionalism was now leading that figure inside with utmost reverence.

Christine let out a self-deprecating chuckle. So this is the person with the appointment, she thought.

It wasn't that she couldn't afford a good lawyer. It was just that the lawyer she knew in New York was also known to Neil. And the partner at Stone & Sterling Law Firm-where she had come today-was said to be from Los Angeles. She trusted her friend's judgment.

Christine had braced herself for an afternoon appointment with Ms. Clark, but fifteen minutes later, the receptionist approached her with a radiant smile.

"Miss Woods, our esteemed attorney, Mr. Thompson, happens to be available today. Please follow me to the consultation room."

Christine raised her delicate eyebrows slightly and smiled faintly. "Alright. Thank you for showing me the way."

She gently pushed open the conference room door, revealing a refined and elegant man inside.

"Miss Woods, please have a seat. My apologies for keeping you waiting."

The man pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up his nose and extended his hand, showing no airs whatsoever.

"I've just been informed that you're here today to consult about a divorce case, correct?"

Christine removed her sunglasses for the first time that day, catching the fleeting look of astonishment in Henry's eyes.

"Yes, Mr. Thompson. I want a divorce-the sooner, the better."

Henry nodded in understanding. "May I ask, Miss Woods, what are your grounds for divorce?"

"My husband cheated. I can't confirm physical infidelity, but emotional cheating is confirmed."

"Oh?" Henry seemed genuinely surprised. Even among Los Angeles's elite socialites, her looks stood out. He hadn't expected her husband to cheat.

"Do you have evidence? Photos, recordings, or videos?"

Christine pulled out her phone and showed Henry the saved chat screenshots and Sofia's IG posts.

His brows furrowed deeply. "Miss Woods, I'm afraid this evidence alone isn't sufficient to prove your husband's emotional infidelity."

Christine's palms clenched involuntarily. "Mr. Thompson, then how can we prove it?"

Henry returned the phone to her. "Screenshots of chat logs only prove he was with this woman at a specific time. His sister's social media posts and comments serve merely as supplementary evidence. The most direct proof would be your husband personally admitting to the affair-whether emotional or physical."

"For instance, a handwritten apology letter. Or capturing intimate acts between your husband and the other woman-these would constitute direct evidence of infidelity."

A bitter smile rose in Christine's chest. An apology letter.

How could Neil ever apologize to her?

Even if she divorced him, he would probably still believe she was the one at fault.

As for photos-she had none.

Henry glanced at her pale face and seemed to think of something before continuing. "As long as you can prove that the breakdown of your marriage was solely caused by your husband's actions, this divorce lawsuit is certain to be won."

"However, if your demand is for him to leave with nothing, that may be difficult. Generally, infidelity does not affect the division of marital property unless he deliberately concealed, transferred, or sold off joint assets. That said, the court will order compensation for emotional damages."

"Based on the evidence you've provided so far, I believe more direct and compelling proof is still needed."

Divorce with nothing-Christine had never harbored such expectations.

She wondered if Neil had been guarding against her from the very beginning. He didn't hold direct shares in his family's company but managed it as CEO. Aside from the apartment they purchased after marriage, his only valuable assets were a few sports cars.

However, when they married, Neil's father, Gavin, had offered ten percent of the company's shares as a dowry to curry favor with her father. Christine had always treasured this, keeping the agreement locked in a safe.

Back then, she had taken it as proof of Neil's love and never bothered to transfer the shares.

But when someone truly loves you, what need is there for proof?

If he loves you, you'll feel it-there's no need to search for evidence with a lantern.

Now that she was determined to divorce him, she was going to claim that ten percent.

"Thank you, Mr. Thompson. I understand. I'll gather more evidence and file for divorce as soon as possible."

Every extra day spent with Neil felt unbearable. She only wanted to distance herself from him-never to cross paths again for the rest of her life.

Henry escorted her to the elevator, causing the front desk staff to look at Miss Woods with newfound respect.

He then strode back to his office with light steps and glanced at the man lounging on the sofa.

"Huh. You sure know how to dump work on me the moment you show up."

"Mr. Robinson, do you even know my minimum hourly consultation rate?"

Edward tugged at the corner of his lips. "Finished talking?"

"Finished. She's gone."

"Is she really getting a divorce?" the man asked abruptly.

Henry's interest was piqued. He teased lightly, "Edward, who is she that you care so much about?"

Edward's expression darkened. His long fingers rubbed the silver ring on his index finger as his aura turned ruthless.

"Mind your own business."

Henry: ".Damn."

No sooner had Christine returned to her hospital room from the law firm than her mother-in-law, Susan Miller called.

"Why aren't you back yet? Mrs. Everett and Mrs. Hunter are coming over for afternoon tea-did you forget? They specifically requested the dessert you made last time. If you don't come, what will they eat?" Susan Miller launched straight into a scolding.

Her daughter-in-law's only redeeming quality was her cooking skills, and now she was even faking illness.

"Stop loafing around in the hospital. It's just a little stomach flu, yet you're acting like you're dying. Hurry back! If Mrs. Everett and the others get upset, I'll tell Neil!"

Christine's lips curled in mockery. "If Mrs. Everett craves dessert so badly, let the servants make it."

Susan always did this-insisting on tormenting her with tasks the servants could easily handle.

Back when she loved her son, Christine had swallowed her pride. But now that she was divorcing him, why the hell should she?

"Christine! I am informing you, not negotiating! You were vomiting so violently last night that I thought you were pregnant. Since you're not, get your ass back here immediately. I'm done listening to your nonsense! Your Woods family went bankrupt ages ago, yet you still think you're some spoiled princess. How pathetic."

Christine's expression remained cold, refusing to offer even a shred of courtesy.

"Then I am informing you now: I intend to divorce your son. Don't bother me with this again. Or would it be more sincere if you cooked for them yourself to curry favor?"

The phone clicked off abruptly.

Susan stood trembling on the balcony, furious. The audacity! That useless daughter-in-law dared to hang up on her.

Divorce?

Ridiculous! If she dared to divorce him, she'd eat that phone.

Turning back into the house, Susan forced a smile. "Mrs. Everett, Mrs. Hunter, I'm terribly sorry about today. Christine is ill. I'll have her make something and deliver it to you personally another day."

Mrs. Everett waved her hand dismissively. "Mrs. Caffrey, you're too polite. Your daughter-in-law might genuinely be ill. She seems like a kind-hearted girl. It'll be just fine to trouble her next time."

Mrs. Hunter chuckled softly. "Exactly. Though Christine can't help you in other ways, she excels at being a dutiful daughter-in-law, doesn't she?"

Susan caught the sting in Mrs. Hunter's words-she was mocking her for marrying into wealth only to face bankruptcy right after the wedding.

She'd endured enough ridicule from the ladies' circle over the past three years.

But there was nothing she could do. Mrs. Hunter's husband was someone she couldn't afford to offend.

Susan forced another smile. "Haha, she's nothing but a jinx. Three years into the marriage, and she still hasn't produced a single egg. If this keeps up, don't blame me for making Neil divorce her!"

Mrs. Hunter and Mrs. Everett exchanged a knowing glance and dropped the subject.

Both women harbored scornful thoughts. Back when the Caffrey family had tried to climb the social ladder by aligning with the Woods family, they had praised Christine to the skies.

"By the way, I heard the Watson family is hosting a private banquet at Sky Castle. The Robinson family will be attending too," Mrs. Hunter said with a smile.

Mrs. Everett perked up. "Really? The Robinson family from Los Angeles?"

Susan's eyes lit up. "Who from the Robinson family is coming?"

She'd recently heard from her husband that the Southern City project wasn't progressing smoothly. If she could connect with the Robinson family, that would be perfect.

Mrs. Hunter observed the eager expressions on both ladies' faces and gave a mysterious smile.

"Edward Robinson."

Hearing this, both women sucked in a sharp breath.

They never imagined the guest would be Edward Robinson.

Edward, the third son of the Robinson family, was the late-in-life child of Mr. Robinson. Among the three sons, he was the most reckless and unconventional.

While the eldest and second sons worked at Vision Group, Edward refused to join the company after returning from overseas. He even declared Vision Group a sunset industry and promptly founded NexGen Tech Group.

Everyone had anticipated Edward's downfall. Yet within just five years, NexGen Tech Group's assets surpassed Vision's. The most influential voice in the Robinson family now belonged to this arrogant son.

Edward was barely thirty. Unmarried, yet his admirers stretched beyond the city limits.

Socialite circles were clamoring to get their hands on this aloof, aristocratic iceberg.

Susan beamed with delight. Her daughter, Sofia, was no longer a child-this opportunity had come at just the right time.

"How delightful! I never imagined Mr. Robinson would visit New York City. I must make preparations."

"Invitations to private banquets aren't so easily obtained," Mrs. Hunter remarked softly, a fleeting sneer crossing her lips.

Susan remained undeterred. Invitations? She'd find a way to secure one.

******

When Gavin and Neil returned home together, Susan couldn't wait to share the news.

Gavin frowned. "I heard Edward is coming too. I had someone check with the Watson family today, but they dodged the question, saying it's a private dinner and outsiders aren't invited."

Susan looked utterly disheartened. "Then what are we supposed to do?"

Gavin stroked his chin. "There's still Christine. Neil, bring Sofia along. You two can go together. I recall Matthew Watson had quite good relations with the Woods family. If you can establish a connection with Edward while you're there, that Southern City project would be settled with just one word from him."

Susan interjected eagerly, "And Sofia! Bring Sofia along too!"

Her Sofia was exceptional. If Edward took a liking to her, the Caffrey family could ascend to even greater heights.

Neil recalled the phone call from that morning. His lips parted, hesitation flickering in his eyes-yet in the end, he agreed.

"Alright."