The Verdict on My Husband the Judge: GUILTY novel Chapter 67

A few months later, Kieran’s company went public with spectacular success.

He transformed overnight into tech royalty.

But this newly minted mogul didn’t seem particularly triumphant–if anything, he appeared chronically depressed.

The media labeled him low–key, introspective, steady, and pragmatic, slapping every positive adjective they could think of on his public persona.

Countless people congratulated me, insisting I had incredible judgment for recognizing Kieran’s potential when he was still nobody special.

I found their praise darkly amusing and ignored all the social media chatter.

Six months later, when the initial IPO frenzy had finally settled, I asked him to finalize our divorce.

He kept manufacturing excuses–either the company was in crisis mode or he was traveling internationally.

Finally, I’d reached my absolute limit and decided to force the issue.

“I’m moving abroad permanently. I don’t have time to keep playing this waiting game.”

That very night, Kieran–who’d been claiming for months that he was too swamped with work–materialized outside my apartment building for the first time since we’d discussed divorce.

He leaned against his sleek black car, radiating misery.

“Do we really have to take this nuclear option?”

I forced a bright, artificial smile. I’d given him countless opportunities, hadn’t I?

“What’s done is done. Let’s just be civilized friends!”

“Aurora.”

He exhaled heavily: “I’m free tomorrow morning.”

The divorce papers had been signed months ago, property division was completely settled–only the final bureaucratic step remained.

I nodded curtly and turned to leave.

In my mind, Kieran had always been ruthlessly practical and money obsessed.

The Verdict on My Husband the Judge: GUILTY

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Chapter 8

The only venture he’d never profited from was marrying me–in fact, I was walking away with the majority of his assets in our settlement.

After finalizing the paperwork, I threw myself into packing.

At thirty, I was suddenly consumed by wanderlust and academic curiosity.

I spent those final days in a whirlwind of preparations.

They say you always crave what’s just out of reach. I guess I finally understood my lifelong obsession with creating a real home.

Unfortunately, despite years of desperate effort, I’d never managed to achieve that dream.

At least now, at thirty, I’d finally grasped that emotional independence was the only thing that truly mattered.

When Caspian learned about my divorce, he immediately had an obscene bouquet delivered.

He practically purred with satisfaction: “Congratulations, Ms. Holloway. Welcome back to glorious freedom.”

I regarded him with dead–eyed indifference.

He grinned with boyish hope: “Give me another shot at winning you over?”

I responded with righteous conviction: “I’ve endured enough romantic torture for several lifetimes. I have absolutely zero interest in love anymore.”

Whether it was Caspian or Kieran, both had put me through absolute hell.

Naturally, I felt nothing but exhausted resentment toward both of them.

I didn’t inform anyone except Kieran about my international escape plan.

One crisp morning, I boarded a flight to London.

At thirty, I desperately wanted to discover if I could thrive completely on my own.

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The Verdict on My Husband the Judge: GUILTY