Chapter 13
I thought coming back to the company would
feel like coming home.
It didn’t.
Instead, it felt like walking into a cold
boardroom where every stare was a silent
accusation. The hallways hadn’t changed-
the paintings were still there, the same scent
of polished wood and rich leather still
lingered in the air–but the people? They had.
They looked at me like I didn’t belong. Like I
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Let’s Divorce, My Husband
was the outsider now.
“She’s been gone too long.”
“She never really managed anything.”
“I heard she didn’t even finish that expansion
project before she left.”
“Maybe her husband should be here
nstead.”
That one hit me.
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Let’s Divorce, My Husband
Her husband.
I almost laughed.
What husband?
Jackson was no longer part of my life–and
never would be again. But it wasn’t just
gossip. The board made it official in a
meeting that left me sitting stiff in my chair
while they questioned my capability.
One of them–Martinez–leaned forward, all
smugness wrapped in fake politeness. “We
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Let’s Divorce, My Husband
just believe, Miss DeVere, that given your
absence, it might benefit the company if you
had a… stabilizing figure at your side. Someone experienced. Perhaps a spouse.”
I clenched my jaw. “You’re saying I can’t
handle my own inheritance without a man to
back me up?”
A few uncomfortable chuckles. A few guilty
eyes.
Martinez didn’t even blink. “It’s about
confidence–for investors, for stakeholders.
V
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Let’s Divorce, My Husband
You know how these things go.”
Oh, I knew.
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They didn’t see me as a leader. They saw me
as someone who had walked away from the
company once–and now couldn’t be trusted
to protect it.
After the meeting, I drove straight to the
hospital.
My father was sitting up, sipping warm tea
and flipping through a financial magazine like
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Let’s Divorce, My Husband
he hadn’t just survived a heart attack last
month.
He looked up, smiled gently. “How was your
first day back?”
“Terrible,” I muttered, slumping in the chair beside him. “They think I’m useless.”
He gave me a knowing look. “Because you’re
a woman.”
“And because I’m alone,” I added bitterly. “They said I need a husband to even look like
IL
407
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Let’s Divorce, My Husband
I’m capable of running what’s already mine.”
My father set his tea down. “Then marry.”
I blinked. “You recommend I get married? At
forty–five?”
He shrugged. “So what if you’re forty–five? I
know someone the same age. Smart.
Handsome. Has a very strong background in
business.”
I eyed him warily. “This better not be some
matchmaking stunt.”
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Let’s Divorce, My Husband
He raised his hands innocently. “Think of it as
a business move. A strategic alliance. Secure
the company. Get their trust back. Once you
have it, you can divorce.”
I sighed. “So, a fake marriage?”
He nodded. “For the company’s sake.”
I hesitated… then nodded. “Fine. If it means I
keep what’s mine, I’ll do it. But this is a deal.
Not love. I won’t open my heart again, Papa.”
He gave me a sad smile. “I know.”
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Let’s Divorce, My Husband
That evening, I was told to meet someone at the penthouse suite of the Grand Vivre Hotel.
Candlelit dinner. Private room. A proper
introduction to my supposed “business
fiancé.”
I wore something understated but elegant. I
wasn’t there to impress–I was there to
secure my empire.
As I stepped into the elevator, nerves kicked
- in. What if he was someone intolerable?
What if he expected more than just
business?
Let’s Divorce, My Husband
The elevator dinged and I stepped out onto
the top floor, headed toward Room 208. But
just as I turned the corner, I bumped into
someone.
“Sorry,” I said quickly. But then my breath
caught.
“Trina?” he asked, eyes widening. “What are
you doing here?”
“Mateo?” I blinked, completely stunned. “I-
I’m here to meet someone.”
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Let’s Divorce, My Husband
“So am I,” he said, just as confused. “Blind
date.”
“I’m actually late,” I muttered, trying to gather my thoughts. “I should go-”
I turned toward the VIP room and walked
faster, heart pounding. But I could hear his footsteps behind me.
“I’m going to VIP 208,” he said casually.
I stopped.
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Let’s Divorce, My Husband
Slowly turned.
“You’re my… blind date?”
He laughed, running his hand through his
hair. “Looks like it. My grandfather arranged
this.”
My jaw dropped. “My father arranged this.”
We stared at each other. And then, he smiled.
“Wow,” I breathed. “What a… coincidence.”
Let’s Divorce, My Husband
“No,” he said, stepping closer. “What a
destiny.”
Dinner was unexpectedly warm. Familiar.
Safe.
It was easy to talk to Mateo again. It always
had been. But as the candle flickered
between us, he asked the question I’d been
avoiding.
“You didn’t want to marry me back then… but
you’re marrying someone now?”
Let’s Divorce, My Husband
I sighed. “It’s a business arrangement. Just to
gain back control of the company. Divorce
after that. It’s not about love.”
“With me, it was real,” he said quietly.
I nodded. “I know. And that’s what made it so
hard to risk.”
He leaned forward. “What about now? Are
you willing to marry me for business?”
I hesitated… then smiled faintly. “I guess |
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Let’s Divorce, My Husband
don’t have much of a choice.”
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Mateo reached across the table, brushing his
fingers against mine. “Then let me warn you
-if you marry me, I’m never leaving your side
again.”
I looked at him in the eye. “Then promise me
something.”
“Anything.”
“Never hurt me.”
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Let’s Divorce, My Husband
He didn’t blink. “I won’t.”
We spent the rest of the night talking about
the business, mapping out our strategy like
old times. He’d help manage external
partnerships. I’d handle the internal
restructuring. The board would believe in us.
And once it was done–we could walk away.
Clean.
Or maybe… not.
As we walked out of the hotel lobby together,
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I felt lighter. Not happy. Not quite. But maybe…
okay.
Until someone grabbed my hair from behind.
I shrieked, jerking back–and then froze.
“Tania?” I gasped.
My daughter stood there, face twisted in rage, fingers still tangled in my hair.
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Let’s Divorce, My Husband
