The Baby, The Billionaire And The Ex-husband's Ruin

Ariana's POV

"I can't believe we won the contract. Thank you so much for your unwavering support... we really appreciate it... yes, of course. We'll see you at the celebratory party." I drop the phone and spin around in the kitchen, barefoot.

We just got the biggest contract in the city and now, my husband and I are no more millionaires. We're freaking billionaires.

When the Mayor brought out the requirements for the contract, requesting an architectural design of the new bridge, I didn't think I could do it.

But honestly, research, coffee and sleepless nights did it for me. We beat every other design and got the contract, our biggest yet.

A party was scheduled to be held at the Hal in my husband's office, but I have never really fancied being in the spotlight, so I thought we could have a party of our own in his office and maybe something else too. I giggle at the thought.

I grab a bottle of wine from our small bar in the kitchen and a basket of snacks and biscuits and walk hurriedly to my car.

I slip on my heels by the door and I leave.

My music is on full blast as I drive up to my Husband's office, he would really love the surprise. It is his favourite wine, four cousins and, of course, my pastries that he loves.

The ride takes a while because of traffic and whatnot, but I finally arrive.

"Hello, Madam." Stacy, the receptionist, greets me with a smile when I walk in. I smile back at her and nod as I walk to the elevator with my gifts in hand.

My husband is the face of our company; I bring the ideas, and he presents them as his own. I create, and he uses his influence to promote.

We built the company that we have today.

I am giddy with happiness as I walk to his office with a skip in my step. I can hear the music from the hall downstairs. The staff and invited guests must be having a good time.

"Good evening, Madam." My husband's secretary, Freddie greets me with sweat trickling down his face.

"Good evening, Freddie. Why aren't you with the other staff?" I smile at him. "You can't be here working too? You need to loosen up and have fun. Come on, go downstairs."

"Um... mam... I can't do that... Sir said not to allow anyone in." He says, stammering and constantly touching his cufflinks.

"I'm not just anyone, though, and it's just me. He wouldn't mind." I search the basket and hand him a cookie before walking to the doors and pushing them open.

"Honey, I'm–"

"Oh yes, faster. I love it when you fuck me so rough," a high-pitched voice says.

I can't believe my eyes.

My husband, the man that I have loved with all my heart for so many years, was behind his desk with a lady who looked like she was still in college and her dress bunched up to her waist, and they were having sex?!

If he hears me come in, he doesn't acknowledge it. The girl makes eye contact with me and moans loudly and my husband slaps her ass in response.

He grunts and continues to have sex with her in front of me. He looks up at me, and my world freezes.

My husband... he is cheating on me. It all clicked; he hadn't called in days, he kept avoiding coming home, saying he was finishing up many meetings, we hadn't been intimate for three months, Freddie's behaviour...

I hear glass shatter to the ground but I don't need to look to know that it is the glass of his favourite wine that I brought to celebrate with him.

I turn on my heels and run out of the office.

"Madam." I hear Freddie's voice behind me but I ignore him. Tears are streaming down my cheeks and my vision is blurry. I enter the elevator and hurriedly push the button so Freddie can't get to me.

I don't need any half-assed apologies or explanations.

My husband is cheating on me.

That fact kept ringing over and over in my head and I couldn't wrap my head around it.

The elevator dings and tears are still falling down my eyes. I spot one of our international partners and I rush to clean my tears.

I hope I did not smudge my makeup.

The man spots me and walks up to me talking animatedly. He's from Italy and his interpretator interprets for him.

"What a lovely design. I take that your husband made it yes?"

The interpretator looks uneasy with my body language and probably how puffed up my eyes look but the Italian man doesn't notice.

My throat feels tight and I can't seem to say yes, that my husband made those designs like I was always proud to.

Do I need to tell him it was mine?

"I'm sorry I have to go." I gave them a half smile and walked away quickly.

If Stacey notices how I look, she doesn't comment or stop me.

I walk to my car and begin to cry once I'm inside. Dominic didn't do this to me...

No, no, no...

I start my car and drive out of the parking lot.

I need to go home.

The car ride is silent except for my sobs. The tears don't stop and they just keep coming, blurring my vision.

That is when I don't notice a truck coming from the other lane. The last thing I see is headlights flashing at me, and then my head hits the stirring wheel, and all I feel is pain before I black out.

-

"Can you hear me? How many fingers am I holding up?"

Huh? What's happening?

I slowly sit up, and I whine as I feel a sharp pain in the side of my head. I raise my hand to touch it and I'm met with a bandage.

"What happened to me," I whisper to no one but the man beside me must have heard.

"You were involved in an accident. You need an urgent check-up at the hospital. You need to come with me."

That explains the blood and the police car and shattered windows.

The man's face fully forms in my vision and I make out that he's a police officer. My clothes are soaked in blood and one of my heels is missing.

"Where is my car?" I ask, looking at him.

He stares at me wide-eyed and points to my car.

Good. It's still in good condition to drive home.

I wobble up and walk to my car when I feel a hand on my arm.

"Madam, you need to come with me to the hospital. You need treatment and stitches, the bandage wouldn't hold for long."

I turn to look him dead in the eyes. "Leave me alone" and I see him flinch.

I turn away from him and walk back to my car, starting it up and driving away from the scene to my earlier destination. My house.

I pull into the driveway and I'm surprised to see bags outside the door.

Whose bags are those?

I get out of the car, and upon close inspection, they're mine.

"Who fucked up your head?"

I turn to see my husband staring at me, and I'm shocked that the first image that crosses my mind is to strangle him till he is writhing beneath me, begging for his life.

I shake that thought away and try to be reasonable. He must have had a reason for abusing me like that. I mean cheating on me in his office and putting out my bags from our home?

"What are my bags doing out here, Dom?" I smile at him.

He first looks taken aback and frightened, probably by my smile but he covers it up with a poker face.

"Leave."

Ariana's POV

I tilt my head to the side and face him head-on.

"Leave?"

"Yes, leave. You are no longer welcome here." His face is scrunched in disgust and he looks as though he wants to puke.

"But you're my husband and we're married. Why should I leave?" I smile again.

"Because I don't want you here anymore."

It finally clicks that he's being for real. The ache in my head intensifies as I try to think of where I went wrong in showing my husband all the love that I could, I gave him everything.

He keeps talking but I can't seem to make out anything that he's saying.

"... I'll send the divorce papers to you in a week."

"Divorce papers?"

He huffs and runs his hand through his face.

"Have you not been listening to me? We're getting divorced, you're getting out of my house and you're not getting anything from me."

I look around at the bags on the floor and then back at him.

"Why do you want to divorce me? I gave you everything." I mutter.

Dominic laughs, he actually laughs. Not the small kind, a full-blown laughter, rocking backwards and throwing his head back.

"Oh, poor, poor, Ariana." He has a sleazy smile on his face as he approaches me. " You were always the bookworm in college, you know? It was quite hard to get your attention."

He finally reaches and grabs a strand of my hair, twirling it between his fingers. "I had to learn architectural words, I had to try to get into your classes. Then, finally, you noticed me. I always wanted your brain for myself, and fortunately, you fell for me."

The ache in my head intensifies, but I try my best not to fall unconscious and to focus on what he's saying.

"And here you are. You fell for my lies every single time. Don't get me wrong, you were attractive."

"Were? He doesn't find me attractive anymore?"

"But Ariana, I loved you, but at the same time, I never really did."

"I want my share of the company." The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop it.

"what share? You don't own anything in that company. The company belongs to only me."

I finally look at him with shock on my face. "What do you mean?"

"Like I said, the company is mine alone. It doesn't belong to you or anyone else. You transferred all the deeds to me."

I am frozen in shock and unable to move when Dominic moves away from me and walks towards the door.

"Make sure you get out of here in 30 minutes, or else, I'm calling the cops and placing a restraining order on you." He walks in and shuts the door and I hear the click, locking me out.

For the first few minutes, I don't move. My vision blurs and I can feel that I wouldn't be able to stand for much longer.

"Hello? Dee? Can you come to my place to get me?" I say into my phone, struggling to keep it to my ear.

"Get your truck. I have quite a load to bring over, and I might be inconveniencing you for a while."

Dee sounds concerned over the phone but she doesn't push for answers.

After the call, I crouch on the porch and wait for Dee to come. The ache is getting worse by the moment but I don't want to pass out here.

My mind is still reeling from what I have learnt in the past hours when Dee's truck pulls up in front of the house.

"What the fuck? Are you going for a vacation or something?" She looks confused and is trying her very best not to come to a conclusion that I know is running through her mind.

"He kicked me out."

"What the– that motherfucker. I am going to burst his ass." She stomps towards the door and begins to bang on it.

"You little wimpy trash, come out and face me. Asshole. What do you get for leaving her? Come out and face me like a man." She keeps on banging on the door but Dominic doesn't come out.

Instead, some Estate security walked up to us and asked us to leave the estate as we were disturbing its peace.

I spot Dominic's shadow from the window and I'm sure that it's his handwork.

One of the securities is kind enough to help me get my bags into Dee's truck and help me into the truck too.

Dee drives out of the lot and makes their way to her home, and the car is as silent as a cemetery.

"What the fuck happened?" Dee asks, she looks furious and red in the face.

With how she's dressed, she probably rushed out of the house after my call. Her bonnet is wobbly on her head, her braids are sticking out, and her tops look wrinkled as if she rushed to put them on.

"He wants to divorce me," she looks at me for a moment and her face turns soft. "He doesn't love me, Dee. I don't think he ever did."

Dee removes one of her hands from the wheel and touches my hand, squeezing it to provide comfort.

My other hand flies to my head as the ache gets worse with each passpaghetti like

Dee finally takes a good look at me as we're stuck in traffic and she screams.

"Did he do this to you? Tell me now, I have a baseball bat in my trunk with his name on it. That bastard-"

"He didn't do it. I got into an accident before I got home."

"Oh, Ari." Her eyes water and she gives me a big hug. She slides back into her seat and drives off.

When the car comes to a halt, I realise we are not in her neighbourhood. We're packed in front of a hospital.

"Come on." She slides out of her seat and helps me out of mine, up the stairs and into the hospital.

-

I am lying in bed, staring at the white ceiling. Turns out that I shouldn't have ignored the police and gone to the hospital immediately.

The injury got infected, plus the fact that I have a concussion so I needed to stay for an extra three days for observation.

I keep telling them that I'm fine but Dee burns holes in my head with her eyes each time I open my mouth.

My stomach grumbles and everyone in the room turns to me.

"You haven't eaten, have you?" Dee asks.

"I nod, and she pats my head, telling me that she is back.

As Dee leaves the room, I pick up my phone from the bedside table and turn it on. I have so many messages and my name is in all the trending searches.

I click on one of the searches and a video pops up of Dee and the security helping me pack my things into the van.

Rocking house for the Lancasters? The headline read.

The room spins. The press already has an idea of this. My hand trembles as I scroll up to another video.

The video was uploaded thirty minutes ag,o and a small lady in fpushlothes is stepping into my house with Dominic hand in hand. That isn't what almost gives me a heart attack.

It is the fact that My husband dips his head and kisses her that does.

Dominic Lancaster, plots for another wife?

I keep scrolling and the heading and clips keep getting worse.

The monitor beside me begins to beep really loudly as my heart rate picks up.

Tears are streaming down my eyes and my head begins to ache again.

Dee and the doctor burst into the room, looking frantic.

"Take that phone away from her now." Dee grabs the phone out of my hand and pulls me into a hug, trying to calm me down, but I feel my body burning up, and black dots fill my vision.

"He... he–" and then, I fall unconscious in Dee's arms.

Ariana's POV

"Let's get you to the car." Dee helps me off the bed and throws my hand over my shoulder as we walk out of the room and the hospital.

Three days go by quickly and I am discharged from the hospital.

In that short while, I try to eat as much as I can to please Dee. Every time that the doctor had to rush in because I was having an episode, I saw the life drain from her.

Her Husband, Trevor Clint, came once to visit me too and told me that they had prepared my room in their home and I could stay for as long as I'd like.

They are really kind, and I don't want to disappoint my friend, but at the same time, my heart is in shambles.

Dee is still holding on to me as she tries to put the key into the lock. I have told her several times that I can stand on my own but she wants to have none of it.

We finally get into the house and Dee collapses on the chair from exhaustion. I sit beside her, too, and we just lay there for a while.

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened?" She asks and I flinch.

In all this while, I still haven't been able to bring myself to tell Dee the full story. I don't say anything and she sighs, getting up from the chair.

"I have to go to work soon, I got a text that a new client is in. Your room is the room at the end of the hallway on your right. There's food in the refrigerator and Trevor made some spaghetti earlier. Put it in the microwave and heat it."

She looks at me and raises a brow and I nod at her. She grabs her keys off the table and steps out, not before placing a kiss on my head.

I walk over to the kitchen, heat the spaghetti-like she told me to, and walk to the room she pointed out for me.

The room seems just fine for me to stay in and I slump on the bed with the plate in my hands. After the first few spoons, I lose my appetite and drop the plate beside me.

I turn to my overnight bag and pull out my phone.

Dee took it away from me after that day in the hospital and refused to give it back ever since.

I turn it on and scroll through my messages. Some are from business associates, my architectural team, and the press, all asking the same questions about Dominic and me.

My hands tremble as I enter the news app. The trending topic is my name and there is a video attached to it. I click on the video and it's a press conference.

I click on the video and Dominic's face appears on the screen.

The murmurs of the crowd die down as he clears his throat.

A journalist steps forward. "Mr. Lancaster, what happened between you and your wife?"

Dominic exhales deeply, shaking his head as if he's in pain "It's unfortunate, really."

"Ariana and I have been facing some difficulties for a while now but... I never imagined things would end like this."

End like what? My fingers tighten around my phone.

Another journalist shouts from the back. "Sir, there are rumours that she was hospitalized. Is that true?"

Dominic runs his hand through his neatly styled hair, giving a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

"Yes, she was, but I had no idea till later. You see, Ariana made choices that put both our company and our marriage at risk."

I blink. What?

The crowd of journalists murmur and their microphones pushed closer to him.

"What do you mean, sir?"

Dominic breathes in deeply before speaking. "Ariana was involved in leaking confidential company data to a rival firm. I only found out after extensive internal investigations. My legal team is looking into the matter, but I can confirm that we are in the process of our divorce."

My chest feels tight and I can't breathe.

"Are you saying she committed corporate espionage?"

"Do you have proof?"

"Will you be pressing charges?"

Dominic raises a hand, silencing them. "I don't want to make this uglier than it already is. Ariana was my wife, and despite what she did, I still wish her the best."

My stomach twists into a knot.

He's lying.

He's painting me as a traitor. I feel sick.

I throw the phone onto the bed as if it burned me and it bounces before falling to the floor with a loud crack.

Anxiety begins to fill me as my heart races.

I can't go outside.

Not after this.

-

For days, I don't step out of my room. I barely eat.

Dee knocks on my door, but I ignore her more often than not.

The media runs with his story. Headlines scream my name. The internet is worse, with strangers calling me everything from a snake to a gold digger, commenting cruel words under my post that I had to make my account private.

My dms aren't safe either. My social media accounts are flooded with hate.

Traitor.

Liar.

Dominic gave you everything, and you repaid him by stabbing him in the back?

I curl into myself, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Dee isn't having it.

On the fourth day, she barges into my room, yanks the blanket off me, and plants her hands on her hips.

"That's enough, Ariana."

I don't respond.

She sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I know it hurts. I know you feel like the whole world is against you. But you need to get up."

I shut my eyes. "What's the point?"

Dee grabs my hand. "The point is fighting back. Dominic is trying to ruin you. Are you going to let him?"

"I don't even know where to start." My voice is hoarse.

"Then we start by finding a loophole." Dee squeezes my hand. "Talk to your lawyer, Ariana. Find out where you stand."

I nod slowly, taking what she said into consideration.

-

I booked an appointment the next day.

Dressed in sunglasses and a hoodie, I slip into my lawyer's office. The receptionist eyes me with pity before leading me to a conference room where my attorney, Mr. Jensen, waits.

He doesn't sugarcoat it.

"Dominic made sure you have no claim to anything." He flips through the company papers that I had in my possession, his expression grim.

"You signed away any rights to the company, the house, everything."

I sink into my chair. "That can't be right. I helped build that company."

"You did," he agrees. "But legally, you don't own a single share. He cut you out completely."

My hands tremble. "So what do I do?"

Mr. Jensen sighs. "We can fight, but it'll be long and costly. The best-case scenario? You walk away with whatever assets are in your personal accounts. The worst?" He hesitates. "You lose everything, including your reputation."

My reputation is already in ruins.

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Thank you for your time."

As I leave the office, cameras are waiting.

The moment I step outside, they surround me.

Microphones are shoved in my face, cameras flashing wildly.

"Ariana! Did you really sell company secrets?"

"Are you planning to retaliate?"

"Dominic said he wants to settle amicably. Will you accept his terms?"

I try to push through, my heart racing.

"She's just a bitter ex-wife," someone sneers.

"She just wants money!" another voice shouts.

I keep walking, head down, my breath ragged.

By the time I reach Dee's car, my hands are shaking. I slam the door shut, gripping the steering wheel as I try to calm down. My ears ring with their voices, their accusations.

I pull away from the curb and drive home, my vision blurred with unshed tears.

When I reach Dee's house, something is sitting on the front porch.

A parcel?

I step out of the car slowly, my legs weak beneath me. With trembling hands, I pick up the package, my name is written on it in and the handwriting looks familiar.

Dominic.

I already know what it is before I open it.

Inside, stacked neatly, are divorce papers. Every page bears his signature.

I flip to the last page.

A sticky note is attached.

_Sign it and make this easier on both of us._