Too Late For Regrets, Mr. Billionaire (Brianna Meyers and Brandon Levy) novel Chapter 158

Chapter 158 Divorce Appointment

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Brianna had been mulling over Nancy’s situation for quite a while and decided not to bring it up just yet.

If she actually called Tristan, they’d end up fighting again, and Nancy would make an even bigger scene.

‘The toughest move with a girl as flighty as Nancy is just to leave her hanging.

‘Once she realizes nobody’s paying her any mind, she’ll eventually calm down and stop acting out,’ Brianna thought.

But she still felt uneasy, so she decisively called her trusted private investigator.

“Head over to Port City and meet with Reese,” Brianna said, her voice calm and steady. “Use the letter of understanding as your bargaining chip, and dig into what Nancy’s up to with them.”

After dropping Kendra off at school, Brianna drove back to the office.

She had just pushed open the door to her office, and before her computer even had a chance to boot up, her phone buzzed with a notification: [Tristan Pratt, one of Klamdiff’s Four Young Masters, has announced the cancellation of his engagement!]

A sip of water went down the wrong pipe, and she started coughing, tears stinging her eyes. But her fingers were already tapping on the link.

The news was short and cold: [Tristan, heir to the Pratt Group, announced on his personal social media that he and his fiancée Nancy Rich were breaking off their engagement due to personality differences, going back to being just friends.]

Brianna opened the social media site and saw that Tristan’s breakup announcement had been posted just this morning.

A heavy feeling settled in her chest as she called Tristan right away.

“What’s going on? Why did you call off the engagement?” Brianna cut straight to the chase.

There was chaos on the other end, and she could just make out Jerod’s furious shouting. She could practically feel the glass rattling from his rage, even over the phone.

“Are you busy? I can call you back later,” Brianna said, frowning as she was about to hang up.

“Don’t hang up,” Tristan replied, his voice low and raspy, hurried footsteps in the background.

A few seconds later, he sounded like he’d moved somewhere else. His voice echoed, and he suddenly got all casual. “Did you see it?”

“Yeah,” Brianna said, taking a deep breath. “Tristan, don’t tell me you were drunk and just did it on impulse.”

“I’m completely sober,” Tristan replied with a chilly laugh. “If someone wants to get married, let them. I’m not playing along anymore.”

Aug

Too Late For Regrets, Mr. Billionaire

“Did you even talk to her about it?” Brianna pressed, worry tightening her voice. “This is what scares me the most,’ she thought.

Last time they broke up, Nancy tried to kill herself by slitting her wrists. Now that things had escalated to calling off the engagement, Brianna shuddered to think what Nancy might do if she went off the deep end again.

“Talk to her?” Tristan let out a bitter laugh, exhaustion clear in his voice. “If I keep trying, I’ll probably lose i myself. I’m done, but this engagement has to end.”

Brianna gripped her phone, unable to say a word for a long time.

Thinking about it now, Nancy’s temperament really wasn’t suited for Tristan.

But if this isn’t handled properly, it’s only going to cause even more trouble later on.

Someone was calling for Tristan on the other end, so Brianna quickly hung up.

She’d just filled her glass, condensation forming on the sides, when her phone started vibrating on the desk sending a jolt through her fingers.

It was Brandon.

She answered the call with a swipe. Brandon’s voice was low, thick with exhaustion. “Are you free right now?’

he asked.

Brianna pressed the rim of her glass to her lips but didn’t take a sip. She just murmured a soft “Yeah.”

“Let’s go to city hall,” Brandon said, his voice dropping even lower after a brief pause. “We need to schedule our divorce. Both of us have to sign the papers.”

Snap!

It felt like her heart was a glass ball dangling by a thin thread. The thread broke, the ball crashed to the floor- silent, shattering inside.

She looked down, her voice icy and unreadable. “The marriage certificate is still at home.”

“I’ve got it,” Brandon cut her off, his voice so cold it could crack glass. “Just bring your ID. See you in forty minutes.”

“Alright,” Brianna said.

It felt like she was just agreeing to another ordinary business meeting. She picked up her bag, her fingers brushing the sharp edge of her ID card to make sure it was there, then closed the door and headed downstairs.

She hung up.

On the other end, Brandon suddenly hunched over, a spasm wracking his chest.

Too Late For Regrets, Mr. Billionaire

He braced himself against the desk, his knuckles turning blue, a fine sheen of cold sweat breaking out acro his forehead.

The pain was like a dull blade, inch by inch, cutting at the old injury beneath his ribs.

‘It’s fine, it’s just for now, Brandon reassured himself.

He took a deep breath, swallowing back the taste of blood that threatened to rise.

Thirty days of cooling-off-more than enough time to wipe out all the chaos lurking in the shadows.

When the dust finally settled, he’d bring her a new ring and propose all over again.

Maybe, by then, they wouldn’t even have to actually go through with the divorce.

Brandon pushed himself upright from the desk, the sunlight outside so harsh it nearly pierced his eyes.

He lifted a hand to block the glare, but nothing could shield him from the name echoing in his heart—

Brianna.

Just a little longer, and he’d win back everything she lost last year-their unborn child, and the sense of security she so desperately needed.

Outside city hall, the sunlight was so harsh it felt like it could strip you bare, leaving nothing hidden.

Brianna shoved that weak sting of bitterness down her throat, determined not to let it show.

‘Wasn’t this how it was supposed to end?’ she thought. ‘I was the one who asked for the divorce. I wanted my freedom. So why does it still feel like my chest is being rubbed raw?’

She forced a perfectly composed smile, rehearsing it in the mirror of her mind. ‘Should I suggest a farewell dinner later? Maybe even raise a glass and thank him for all those years of looking out for me?’ she wondered

‘What a sham, and yet, somehow, it’s strangely satisfying,’ she thought wryly.

But just as Brianna managed to pull off a smile, the moment she stepped into the hall, it crumbled instantly.

Brandon stood there, his suit sharp as ever, but the rumpled cuffs were a jarring detail that made her uneasy.

Even more striking was Allison beside him, draped in a long black puffer coat. She was like a bold poppy. impossible to ignore.

“Well, well, look who’s here-Ms. Moore,” Brianna said, a mocking smile tugging at her lips.

‘Wow, can’t wait, can you? You just had to come and watch us sign the divorce papers?’ Brianna sneered inwardly.

Allison flashed a bright smile. “Ms. Meyers, we’re catching a flight to Aroria at noon, so we just happened to be

in the area.”

Yeah, right. Just happened to be in the area?’ Brianna thought with a scoff.

15:01 Tue, Aug 11

Too Late For Regrets, Mr. Billionaire

Brianna didn’t even spare Brandon a glance, her voice icy enough to shatter glass. “Oh, well, don’t miss you flight.”

She brushed past them and headed straight for the registration desk, her high heels clicking on the marble floor-each step a clear message: ‘I couldn’t care less.’

“Brianna,” Brandon called out, taking a step after her, his voice rough and low. “I’ve got something to handl Aroria…”

“Marriage certificate,” Brianna cut him off, holding out her hand impatiently. “I’m in a hurry.” Her ID flashe cold and pale between her fingers, sharp as a little blade.

Brandon shoved the folder over, his knuckles bone-white from gripping it. “Everything’s in here.”

Brianna flashed a perfectly composed smile and handed it to the clerk. “Divorce appointment, please.”

The clerk slid the divorce application form across the desk to her.

The form was placed before her, and she picked up the pen without a second thought. Her handwriting was graceful yet forceful, each stroke cutting through the paper as if she were severing his name from her life.

“When I get back,” Brandon’s voice trembled, his Adam’s apple bobbing painfully, “we can talk about…”

“Talk about what? Maybe you and Ms. Moore can discuss your seat assignments on the flight?” Brianna retorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

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