Ex Wife's Collapse After Divorce novel Chapter 25

Chapter 25

The weekend disappeared like water through open fingers.

Two days. No Vivian. No calls, no drama, no suffocating tension. Just Aurora’s apartment, her kitchen, her voice drifting from the living room while Ethan cooked.

It was the best weekend he’d had in five years.

On Monday morning, they left together — Aurora driving, Ethan in the passenger seat with his phone out.

Before they’d even pulled onto the main road, he’d typed and sent the message to Vivian.

*Don’t forget. City Hall today. Bring your ID and household registration. I’ll meet you there at 10.*

He pocketed the phone and leaned back.

Aurora glanced at him. “Texting your wife this early? How romantic.”

“Ex-wife,” Ethan corrected. “Reminding her about the divorce paperwork.”

“Ah.” Aurora’s lips curved. “The romantic kind of texting, then.”

The phone buzzed.

Ethan pulled it out. One new message from Vivian.

He opened it.

His expression changed.

*”Ethan Carter, you have the NERVE to talk about divorce? YOU’RE the one who cheated. You think I didn’t see you get into that woman’s car? You’re disgusting. You betrayed this marriage first. I’m NOT going to City Hall – not today, not ever. And if you push me? I’ll find someone who actually appreciates me. See how YOU like it.”*

Ethan stared at the screen.

His jaw tightened. The muscles in his temples pulsed.

The irony was so thick he could choke on it. The woman who’d been cooing sweet nothings to Damian Hale thirty seconds after her mother slapped her – *that* woman was accusing *him* of infidelity.

And threatening to cheat as revenge.

His knuckles whitened around the phone.

The good mood – the lightness he’d carried all weekend – evaporated like morning fog.

“Let me guess.” Aurora’s voice was calm. Almost amused. “The ex-wife-sister is causing trouble again.”

Ethan looked up. “How do you always know?”

“Because you only make that face when she’s involved.” Aurora tapped the steering wheel with one finger. “What did she do this time?”

“Refused to go to City Hall. Says I’m the cheater. Threatened to sleep with someone else as payback.”

Silence.

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Then Aurora laughed a short, sharp sound.

“Wow. She really commits to the delusion.” She shook her head. “Young master, you’re too soft with her. If it were me? I’d have sent someone to her office with the papers and a countdown clock. Seventy-two hours to sign, or the lawyers do the talking.”

Ethan exhaled. Some of the tension bled out of his shoulders.

“That’s because you’re terrifying.”

“Thank you.” She flipped her hair. “So? City Hall’s off?”

“City Hall’s off.” He put his phone away. Decision made. No hesitation. “Drive to the office. I’ll handle it the other way.”

“The lawyer way?”

“The lawyer way.” He paused. “Actually – can you handle the litigation prep for me? You know the legal team better than I do. File for contested divorce. Irreconcilable differences, abandonment of marital duties, whatever grounds stick.”

Aurora merged onto the expressway. Her expression was business-mode now – sharp, focused.

“Consider it done. I’ll have the preliminary filings on your desk by Wednesday.”

***

Stellaris International Trading. Ninth floor. Business department.

Ethan walked in at 8:47 AM, coffee in hand, ready to bury himself in work.

William Pierce – the business department manager – was already at his desk, phone pressed to his ear, forehead creased. He spotted Ethan through the glass partition and waved him over.

Ethan waited until the call ended.

“Problem?” he asked.

William rubbed his face. “Hennessey Textiles. Big client – annual contract worth about twelve million. We screwed up a shipment last month. Wrong specs, late delivery. She’s been furious ever since.”

“She?”

“The owner. Young woman, inherited the business from her father.” William slid a folder across the desk. “Her birthday’s today. She’s throwing a party this afternoon – private room at Starfall Lounge, four o’clock. I pulled some strings and got us an invite. Someone needs to go, smooth things over, get her to renew the contract.”

Ethan picked up the folder. “I’ll take it.”

William’s eyebrows rose. “You sure? She’s… difficult.”

“I need to stay busy today.” Ethan tucked the folder under his arm. “I’ll handle it.”

“Alright.” William clapped his shoulder. “Your job is simple — make her happy, keep the account. The mistake was ours, so eat whatever humble pie she serves. Just don’t let the contract walk.”

“Got it.”

Ethan took the folder back to his desk, sat down, and flipped it open.

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His eyes landed on the name at the top of the page.

**Sophie Whitfield.**

His hand stopped.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’

Sophie Whitfield. Twenty-six years old. CEO of Hennessey Textiles – three garment factories, net assets north of forty million.

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