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I’m Divorcing with You Mr Billionaire! Chapter 13


Chapter 13 Chapter Thirteen

The feeling that coursed through me was heavenly. And for the first time since I announced to Mark that I didn’t want to stay married to him again, I felt free.

After my announcement, the courtyard was shrouded in pin drop silence. Their eyes alternated between Mark and I then between dad and mum.

I could see some young girls immediately shooting their shots. The already deep n*eckline of their dresses become even deeper, their amble blossoms half on display as they cast flirtatious glances at Mark. I didn’t blame them. In truth, Mark was like a diamond among the many men in town. Who wouldn’t be excit- ed to grab such a man if there ever was a whisper that he was back in the mar-

ket?

Bella looked pissed, her hold still on Mark’s arm.

I wished I could capture the look on dad and mum’s face right now and frame it. Their eyes bulged as they turned to me; I couldn’t tell if it was out of panic or

anger at me.

Throughout the years I had been with the family, I had learned that Michael’s family’s business was sinking. I had later learned in the last three years I stayed married to Mark the reason why they were hell bent on ensuring Mark married in the family. They had barely been able to struggle out of bankruptcy and get

because their business back on its feet because of their marital ties with him. If they should lose Mark, then they’ve lost their company.

Dad turned to Mark and gulped. “She is out of her mind, Mark. I’m sure she took something before coming here. She’s been acting really out of character since she arrived. I was even worried that’s he didn’t come with yo-”

Mark turned to me, ignoring dad, his eyes blazed with untamed anger. “Are your

insane?!”

I could feel eyes on us. “I’m very well in my right mind, Mark.You should in-

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stead be askin-”

I let out a shocked gasp when he suddenly lifted me off my feet and balanced me on his shoulder.

I didn’t even bother to struggle, I tried to get comfortable on his shoulder. It was as though I was high on something as I laughed, my chin slightly hitting his back as he stormed off the scene.

I turned to the gaping crowd. There was a girl beside Bella, her palm patted her Bella’s rigid shoulders, her face was pinched back and her fists clenched and I wondered if she was going to storm after us and throw me off Mark’s shoulder. How mad is she right now? I thought, amused.1

My eyes settled on dad. I grinned and waved at him, “Happy birthday, dad!” My voice rang out, mocking. “I hope you like my birthday gift.” I roared with laughter again.

“Will you shut the f**k up!” Mark’s grip on my thigh tightened and I let out a yelp.

“Ouch!” I pinched his back. “That hurt.”

I could hear as he gritted his teeth and I felt his grip slightly loosened.

As Mark made his way to his car, I heard dad’s calm voice at least he tried to sound calm. One look at him and you could tell that he was a jittery mess. He forced on a smile. “Mark and my daughter just had a little misunderstanding,” a nervous laugh, “No one is getting a divorce,I assure you,” then he attempted a joke, “the eligible Mark Torres is off the market, girls, find a suitor somewhere else.” The crowd roared with laughter, dissipating the tense atmosphere.

I was sure dad didn’t even want to imagine how his company’s stock price. would look if the news should reach the public’s ears that Mark Torres, CEO of GT Group was divorcing his daughter.

I could imagine the companies that would instantly pull out, the air would carry the news and he and his wife and conniving daughter would be doomed. I doubt if the company would even last a month before crumbling.

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I wondered if there was a journalist among the guests. If I were that journalist, I wouldn’t hesitate to air what happened here. I’m sure any publishing house. would pay a lot to get this news…I smirked as my thoughts trailed off. Or the news about Bella’s whereabouts on her wedding day.

A room was reserved for Mark and Bella when they were dating for cases when- ever Mark slept over. The room was on the second floor and that was exactly where Mark was heading. His shoulder started to dig in my tummy as he climbed the stairs; it felt very uncomfortable.

“Will you slow down?” I groaned, “My tummy hurts. You’re digging your shoul-

ders into it.”

“I don’t care where you hurt,” there was a pause, then, “I stopped caring when you made that stupid announcement.”

“Like you ever cared,” I rolled my eyes.

He kicked the door open with his foot, strode in and dumped me – no, he flung

me on the large bed.

I bounced on the bed for a few seconds before I stayed in place.

“What the hell! I could have bounced down the floor and hit my head and died.”

“Maybe that would be better,” his voice sent the hair on my skin upright and I re-

sisted the urge to cower at the glare on his face; the look of contempt in his

eyes.

The veins on the back of his hand bulged, and his jaw was tight as he lashed out. “I asked you to come to the house and wait for me.”

I sat comfortably on the bed and took my time to respond so I wouldn’t splut- ter. “I didn’t want to. You can’t just order me around. Besides, if I had come, I

would have rode with you and Bella, sitting at the back seat like a third wheel,

right?”

He scoffed. “You just hate the poor girl, so much don’t you? She’s your sister!”

I put my palm up. “You don’t have to scream it in my ears, I know she’s my sis-

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ter.” Unfortunately, “But did you just refer to her as a ‘poor girl? Poor girl!” I threw

my head back and laughed. I wondered if he would still think she was a ‘poor girl‘ if he knew.

“Why are you so bent on getting divorced?”

“Because you’re an asshole and I want nothing to do with you,” I pouted.

“What do you want to not mention that irritating word again?”

“What word?” I fluttered my lashes, “Divorce?”

He gritted his teeth and his hands that were perched on his hips tightened.

“What do you want for things to go back to the way they were?”

I furrowed my brows and put a finger on my chin. “The way things were? How is that? You, cheating on me with my sister while ignoring me? Our fake pose

as a happy couple?”

“Not like you ever bothered to put in the effort,” he snarled. “You always acted like you were being mistreated at the slightest opportunity you got.”

I raised my brows, “Wasn’t I?” Our gaze locked. “Answer me, wasn’t I mistreat-

ed?”

“You were not!” Then he repeated his earlier words, “What do you want for things to go back to the way they were?” He looked like he was losing his pa-

tience but I couldn’t care less.

“Why do you want things to go back to the way they were?” I let my l*ps curve in- to a sly smile. “Why, Mark? What’s wrong?” I wiggled my brows, “Have you fallen in love with me and can’t bear to see me leave?”

He blinked and his l*ps parted. And for a while, we just held each other’s gaze; my gaze was teasing, his was filled with a mixture of confusion, anger and irrita-

tion.

“Stop talking nonsense, Sydney. State your conditions!” He retorted loudly. Tool

loudly.

“No conditions, Mark,” I shrugged, sobering up, “I just want a divorce.”

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The crease in his brows deepened and he started to pace the room, his fingers combing his hair in frustration. “Is this like some joke to you? A game? Because I don’t get this, I don’t get you.” He stopped in front of the bed, “Are you joking with me, Sydney?”

That look I glimpsed in his eyes before it morphed back into anger, the slight fall in his tone and volume almost made me pity him. It made me want to pull him to me, massage his scalp and promise him that I would never leave him.

I shook my head and swallowed. “It’s no fun for me either. I seriously just want a divorce. To be more clear, I don’t want to stay married to you.”

He observed me for a while then he spoke up, his voice sounded harsh, grating and his jaw tightened. He lifted his chin, “Fine then. If I am going to sign the di- vorce papers then I have a condition.”

My brows heightened and I dreaded what his condition would be.

The corners of his l*ps lifted in a smirk and his eyes glinted with mischievous- ness, “If you want a divorce, you would have to give me a million dollars in alimo- wany.”


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