Divorced and Remarried:Desired by Two Billionaires

1

~Velma's POV

I was sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at a complicated diagram spread across the desk, pencil hovering above it as I tried to make sense of the lines and measurements.

It had been a quiet morning until Lira, one of my maids, knocked gently at the door, breaking my concentration.

"Madam?" Her voice was careful, polite, but I could hear the tension underneath. "Your mother-in-law... she's here."

I froze. My hand stopped mid-air. I knew exactly what that meant. Every time she came, it was a test, a storm wrapped in civility. I put down the pencil, taking a deep breath, forcing the smile I would need to wear.

"Thank you, Lira. Please... tell her I'll see her in the living room."

Lira hesitated at the door. She nodded slowly, clearly worried, but left with a quiet click of the door.

I straightened my dress and smoothed my hair, rehearsing the calm, polite voice I would use, the smile I would wear. When I stepped into the living room, she was already there, seated, her cold, calculating gaze fixed on me as though measuring my worth.

"Good morning, Mother," I said, keeping my voice even.

She looked me over, her expression tight, lips curling in a polite sneer. "Good morning, Velma," she said flatly. "I suppose you've been busy with... whatever it is you do to occupy your days."

I blinked, keeping my smile. "Yes, Mother. I have been seeing the gynaecologist lately."

She waved her hand dismissively. "Ah, Gynaecologist. As if that will help."

I felt my chest tighten, but I stayed quiet, forcing myself to remain polite.

Her eyes narrowed. " You've given my son nothing he truly wanted. You've never been enough for him."

The words landed hard, sharper than I expected. I gripped the edge of the chair to steady myself. "Mother... I...."

"You...what?" she interrupted sharply. "You think words can excuse failure? You think he should stay because of your... presence? You should be ashamed."

I swallowed, trying to hold back the heat rising in my throat. "I've done my best. I've..."

"Best?" she cut in, voice rising. "You're barren. Defective. You're an orphan who only married him for his money. Don't pretend you've done anything right."

I forced a polite smile, the one I'd worn hundreds of times before. "Of course, Mother."

She stood abruptly, sweeping toward the door. "I didn't come here to see you. I came for my son. Not for someone who cannot give him what he deserves."

I nodded, keeping my composure. "Of course, Mother, but he isn't around."

"Then I will wait for him!"

She left, slamming the door to her room, leaving a silence that felt suffocating.

I sank onto the couch, letting the air whoosh out in a long sigh. Lira appeared with tea, concern clear on her face.

"Are you... Okay, Madam?" she asked softly.

I nodded, forcing a small smile, and reached to take the cup, but almost immediately my stomach turned. A wave of nausea hit me, sharp and sudden. I froze, gripping the edge of the couch, trying not to let it show.

Lira's eyes widened. "Madam? Are you feeling well?"

My stomach twisted violently, and I barely made it to my room, then to the bathroom, before vomiting. I pressed my hands against the cold edge of the sink, trying to catch my breath. My chest heaved, my head spun, and the room tilted around me.

For weeks, I had been feeling off, tired all the time, a constant queasiness I had ignored, telling myself it was stress or maybe something I ate. But now, standing there, a cold thought struck me.

My period... I had missed it.

I stumbled back into the room.

I reached for the drawer and flung it open, my hands shaking as though they had minds of their own. Inside, the pregnancy test lay where I had left it.

I fumbled with it, tearing the wrapper as fast as I could. My bare feet touched the cold wooden floor, making me shiver, and I dashed back into the bathroom.

The moment I saw the two pink lines, my hands flew to my stomach as if I could somehow hold the life inside me close. I pressed my fingers gently against it, feeling a strange warmth and fluttering that made my chest swell in a way I hadn't felt in years.

I whispered, almost in disbelief, "Oh... after all these years..." My lips curved into a soft, trembling smile, and I sank against the bathroom counter, closing my eyes, letting myself feel the happiness that seemed almost foreign. It was like the world had paused for me in that instant, the noise and tension of everything else fading away.

"I hope it's a girl," I murmured, my fingers tracing small, careful circles on my stomach, as if I could already communicate with the tiny life growing inside me.

My laugh was shaky, trembling from nerves and excitement, and I pressed a hand over my mouth, trying to contain it, but it bubbled out anyway.

I imagined her little hands, soft and warm, wrapping around mine, the gentle tug of curiosity and trust. I pictured her laugh, high and clear, echoing through the house, and the way her small voice would call me "Mama," a sound I had dreamed of for years but seldom allowed myself to imagine. My heart ached with the sweetness of it, and tears threatened to spill as I pressed my palm over my stomach again, feeling the tiny, unknown life that would change everything.

"Oh, Dylan... he's going to be so happy," I whispered, my mind already painting pictures of the moment I would tell him, of the way he might smile.

Then my phone rang, sharp and insistent, slicing through the quiet and my daydream. I returned to the room, reaching for it on the shelf. I glanced at the screen. Dylan. My smile widened, thinking of the moment I'd finally tell him.

I swiped and answered, my voice soft, excited. "Hello?"

"Velma... you need to come to the police station. There's been an accident. Just... come. Now." His voice was tense, clipped, urgent. Every word hit me like ice water.

"Wait... what happened? Are you okay? Tell me! Please!" My pulse raced, chest tight.

"I'm fine. Just... come. Now. I can't explain on the phone." And then he hung up.

I stared at the phone in my hand, fear crashing through me. My hands clutched it like a lifeline. "No, no, no... please, let him be okay," I whispered. My stomach twisted, and I didn't stop to think about how I was dressed or how my hair had fallen loose. I ran from the bedroom, calling for the driver.

"Start the car. Now!"

~Velma's POV

The ride to the police station was about five minutes, but it felt like five hours.

When we arrived, I bolted from the car and ran toward the station. One of the officers led me to a room, and my eyes immediately found Dylan... and then Eva, my sister, the real child of my adoptive parents.

Relief crashed over me for a moment, but it shattered instantly. She was there, cheeks wet with tears, looking at Dylan.

"What... what is she doing here?" I demanded, my voice trembling. "What's going on, Dylan?"

He ran a hand down his face, exhaling sharply like he was trying to shake off some heavy weight. "Velma... you know I'm a public figure. I have a reputation to protect. I have to make sure no one is above the law, even my family," he said, his voice calm. His eyes didn't leave mine, but there was something distant in them like it had always been.

My mind went blank for a moment, my pulse thundering in my ears. "What... what are you saying, Dylan?" I asked, my voice shaking even though I tried to steady it.

"Eva... she drank too much and drove the car," he continued, like it was nothing, like he was stating the weather. "She hit a woman's stall and destroyed it. So, I want you to take the fall for her. I'll do my best to make sure you're on probation, and nothing worse happens."

I froze. My hands curled into fists, my nails digging into my palms without me even realising. My knees felt weak, and the world seemed to spin around me. "You... you want me to take the blame? For something she did?" I whispered, my voice trembling, panic and anger twisting into a bitter knot in my stomach."

He stepped closer, looming over me. "Velma," he said, low and commanding, "she's about to open her own gallery and attend her first art exhibition, which is in collaboration with my company. If this scandal comes out, it could ruin her forever and also affect me. You have to do this. For her, for me... for everyone."

My voice cracked, and my eyes burned with tears I refused to let fall. "Did you even yourself? I'm your wife... and why would you even think I'd do that?"

He stepped closer, his presence heavy and suffocating. "Yes... You're my wife. You need to protect our life, our reputation. You'll handle this. And you will do it."

My breath caught in my chest. I stared at him, stunned. "What... what do you mean I will?" My voice shook, the words barely escaping my lips. "Dylan, I didn't do anything. I wasn't even there."

He didn't blink. "You don't need to be there. The story is already arranged. You were driving. You lost control. The woman understands. She will cooperate. Everything will be handled." He spoke like everything was already decided, like my life was a formality.

"What?!"

"Dylan, no," I whispered, almost choking on my own breath. "I can't do that. I didn't cause the accident. I wasn't even there. How do you expect me to..."

"You won't be going to jail," he cut in quietly, almost bored. "There just needs to be someone responsible. That's all. They'll file the report, the woman will cooperate, and it'll be over."

Over.

Like it was a stain he could wipe off his shirt.

My throat tightened. "I won't do it. I can't. Please don't ask me to do something like this."

He finally looked at me then, really looked, and something cold flickered in his eyes.

"If you don't accept," he said, "I'll divorce you."

I felt the floor tilt.

He continued talking, voice flat, like he was reminding me of a bill he'd already paid. "You're not contributing financially to this family. You haven't given me a child. You are just a defect. The least you can do is make this sacrifice."

My lips parted, but no sound came out.

"You... you can't mean that," I managed, barely audible.

"I do." He said with no hesitation.

Then he turned to the officer nearby, slid an arm around my shoulders like I was a loyal, supportive wife, and said, "She'll be at the station tomorrow morning to write her statement. We'll sort out everything."

The officer nodded, not even glancing at my face.

I couldn't speak. Even the news I had come to share with him wasn't just pushed aside... it vanished entirely from my mind. It didn't matter anymore. Not beside this.

Dylan took my hand without asking, pulled me gently but firmly, and called to Eva. "Come on."

He placed Eva in a cab first, told the driver her address, and shut the door like he was done with that chapter of the evening.

Then he led me to the car.

I didn't say a single word on the drive home. I couldn't. I think he tried to look at me once or twice, but when I didn't respond, he stopped trying.

When we reached home, the silence followed us inside.

We walked to our room like two strangers wearing the skins of a married couple. I sat on the edge of the bed. He stood a few steps away, studying me.

But nothing came out.

My chest heaved, each breath sharp and painful, and I felt the weight of the world crushing down on me. My eyes burned with tears I refused to let fall, but the shock, the humiliation, it was too much. My voice shook as I finally managed to speak, words tumbling out in broken fragments.

"I... I won't do it, Dylan," I said, my chest tight, my voice rising, thick with disbelief. "I will not take the blame for something Eva did. She... she should pay for her sins herself."

"Velma!" His voice thundered, making me flinch. "Don't tell me... you're just jealous of your sister? You want to ruin her life when you could actually help her! You're jealous because you do nothing, nothing at all, but you sit there and enjoy all the benefits that come with being my wife! And can you for once be useful, you this barren woman?!" He shoved his hands into his pockets, pacing slightly, then slammed a fist onto the edge of the table nearby.

I shook my head violently, despite the tremor in my legs. My hands clutched my stomach instinctively.

"No. No, Dylan. I... I can't. I won't. You can't... You can't just tell me to ruin my life for her. How could you even think that I would?" My voice trembled, breaking in half.

I swallowed hard, the taste of salt already on my tongue as tears blurred everything in front of me. "I've always danced to your tunes!" The words scraped out of me before I could stop them. "But this will be different."

My voice rose without my permission, trembling, breaking... filling the room anyway.

I sat there for a second, breathing like someone had punched the wind out of me. Then I just... gave up. I pulled the duvet over myself, curled into the smallest version of me, and let the sobs come in quiet, shaky waves.

I cried until my eyes ached, until my chest hurt, until sleep finally dragged me under.

3

~Velma's POV

I woke up feeling like my body had been carved out of exhaustion, heavy and unwilling to move, and even though the morning light was already creeping across the room, I just lay there staring at the ceiling, pretending for a few seconds that nothing was waiting for me, but then I heard the soft rustle of clothes, the clink of a belt buckle, and the quiet footsteps that told me Dylan was getting ready for work.

He didn't bother turning toward me when he spoke.

"Get up and get dressed," he said, his voice cool, like he hadn't spent last night tearing me apart.

"The driver will take you to the station. Don't be late."

I didn't answer. I didn't even blink. I just kept staring at the ceiling because if I looked at him, I wasn't sure what would come out of my mouth.

He waited for a second, maybe two, but when he realized I wasn't going to give him anything, he simply walked out, closing the door in that firm way.

It took a while before I finally pushed myself up. My head felt foggy, my chest felt tight, and every breath seemed to carry the memory of his words from last night. I rubbed my face and whispered Lira's name, and she came rushing in immediately, like she had been standing outside the whole time waiting for a signal.

"Madam, good morning," she said softly, and I could see the worry in her eyes.

I cleared my throat. "Please... make me something light. Maybe tea. I don't think I can handle anything heavy."

She hesitated, and that was my first warning that something wasn't right.

"Madam..." she said quietly. "Miss Eva is here. She's in the living room. With... with your mother-in-law."

My heart jerked like someone had yanked it with a hook.

"What?" I asked, already swinging my legs out of bed. "Why is that bitch here? At this hour?"

Lira didn't answer. She didn't need to. I already knew it wasn't for anything good.

I stood up, straightened my night robe a little, wiped under my eyes, and forced my breath to calm before walking out. As I approached the living room, I pasted a smile on my face, one I didn't feel, not even a little.

"Good morning, Mother," I said, lifting my chin gently as I stepped in.

She didn't even return the smile. She just gave me that look she always gave, the one that told me I was an irritation she tolerated only because she had to. She folded her arms and looked away.

Then my eyes fell on Eva, sitting comfortably on the couch, crossing her legs like she lived here, her lips curled into that smug smile I had known all my life.

My smile dropped immediately.

"Why are you here?" I asked quietly, looking right at Eva.

She stood up slowly, enjoying every second of the moment, and she handed me a brown file as if she were giving me a gift.

"Here," she said, her smile widening.

I frowned and took the file. "What is this?"

"Open it," she replied, sounding almost excited.

I opened it, and for a moment I couldn't breathe.

It was a divorce paper. Freshly printed. Already stamped.

I looked up at her, then at my mother-in-law, and then back at the paper.

"You must be insane," I said, my voice trembling even though I tried to steady it. "You actually came to my house to give me a divorce paper? Are you mad?"

I barely finished speaking when a slap cut across my face so fast and so hard my ears rang.

My mother-in-law stood there, palm still lifted, her eyes blazing.

"How dare you raise your voice at Eva?" she snapped. "A defective, barren woman like you should know her place."

My chest burned as I held my cheek.

"Mother..." I whispered, stunned. "Why would you..."

She stepped closer. "I have always known you were a mistake. It should have been Eva from the beginning. She is everything you are not. And she will become what you failed to be. Dylan's wife. The mother of his children. This...." she pointed at the papers "will happen. Whether you like it or not."

I stared at her, then at Eva, who was practically glowing with satisfaction.

Eva folded her arms. "Dylan wants this, too. In fact, he brought it up last night. I simply fast-tracked the process."

Tears filled my eyes. "Last night? He... he only mentioned divorce last night. How did you even get papers printed and stamped by morning? That's not possible."

Eva laughed softly. "Money makes things very possible."

I shook my head. "I'm not signing anything. And if something like this is to be done, it should come from my husband, not you."

Eva smirked. "Oh, if you want it from him, then fine. Maybe this will help."

She placed her hand on her stomach, lightly, like she was touching something precious.

"I'm carrying Dylan's child, Velma," she said, her voice slow and cruel. "The child you couldn't give him."

For a moment, the room tilted.

I grabbed the edge of the couch to steady myself.

My eyes darted to my mother-in-law, who was also shocked for a second before her expression melted into joy. She rushed to Eva and pulled her into a hug.

"My daughter," she whispered, stroking Eva's hair. "Finally... finally someone has given my son and me what we truly deserve."

"No," I whispered. "No. Eva, that's not possible. That is a lie. Dylan will never cheat on me!"

She cut me off by pulling out her phone and holding the screen up to my face. A video started playing. It was dark, grainy, but painfully clear enough. Dylan was on a bed, and Eva was beside him. His arm around her.

"Does this make you believe?" she asked softly, savoring every word.

I staggered back, shaking my head over and over.

"Eva," I whispered, my voice breaking. "What did you do?"

She just smiled, like the devil dressed in silk.

"Velma," she said softly, leaning slightly toward me, "if you know what's best for yourself, if you know what will save you from more pain, you will just sign these papers and leave."

I stood there, trembling, as Eva pressed the papers into my hands, her fingers holding mine tightly, refusing to let me pull away. Her smile was sharp, almost polite, as she whispered, "I'll do you the honor of submitting this for you, Velma. Just sign it." My throat burned, tears sliding down my cheeks, but I felt trapped, her grip unrelenting, forcing my hand to the pen as if my resistance meant nothing.

Then my mother-in-law's voice thundered through the room, sharp and merciless. She yelled at the maids to pack my things, to throw everything out, to make sure I left immediately. Boxes were shoved around, drawers emptied, my life dismantled before my eyes like a cruel movie I couldn't escape. I wanted to scream, to fight, to vanish, but all I could do was cry, my heart breaking as they took everything from me in that single, devastating moment.