Divorcing the Blind Billionaire

Divorcing the Blind Billionaire

Kiera Storm · Ongoing · 18.1k Words

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Introduction

Three years of a sexless marriage. I hid my brilliance just to be his obedient wife, yet he discarded me for his manipulative first love. When I slammed the divorce papers on his desk, I thought I was finally free.

But that night, he pinned me against the wall, his eyes dark with suppressed desire.

"You bought these toys to humiliate me? Are you that desperate?"

I laughed softly, tracing his shirt button. "Since you can't satisfy me, darling, I need to find my own fun. Or... a new man."

I pushed him away, ready to vanish. But as my secret identities—top racer and legendary doctor—are exposed one by one, my ex-husband's obsession grows.

Will he realize the goddess he worships is the very wife he scorned?

Chapter 1

On their wedding anniversary, Charlotte Blake was organizing George Summers' suit when she found a black stocking in the pocket.

Charlotte rarely wore stockings. This one was designed to be sexy yet tacky—clearly not hers.

She held the stocking between her fingers, which felt ice-cold.

Just then, the sound of the door opening came from the entrance, followed by a woman's soft, flirtatious laughter. "George, you're bringing me home? Won't Charlotte be upset?"

Charlotte looked up just in time to see George walking in with his arm around a woman.

The moment she saw the woman, her heart involuntarily tightened.

She knew this woman—it was George's first love, Jennifer Walsh.

George had one arm around Jennifer's waist and was carrying a small suitcase with his other hand.

Seeing her, George frowned slightly but offered no explanation, continuing to walk into the living room with Jennifer in his embrace.

Charlotte's voice came out cold. "What's the meaning of this?"

Before George could speak, Jennifer jumped in. "Charlotte, don't misunderstand. My mother just passed away, and I'm scared to live alone. George was worried, so he asked me to stay for a few days."

When she saw the stocking in Charlotte's hand, she shyly leaned into George's embrace, her cheeks flushing. "Isn't that the stocking I changed out of last time when my skirt got torn? How did it end up with you?"

Her tone was suggestive and teasing.

Charlotte looked at George, who remained silent beside her, her voice trembling. "Aren't you going to explain?"

Though she had mentally prepared herself, she still wanted to know George's attitude.

"What's there to explain?" George said flatly, looking at her with eyes full of weariness. "Don't put on that act like you're my wife interrogating me. If you hadn't schemed your way into my grandmother's good graces back then, do you think I would have married you?"

Charlotte froze in place, her hands involuntarily clenching, her knuckles turning white.

What did it matter that she held the title of Mrs. Summers? George didn't love her at all—he even resented her.

"Charlotte, don't misunderstand. There's nothing between George and me," Jennifer quickly explained, though her hand remained linked with George's arm.

George frowned slightly, looking somewhat impatient. "Don't mind her. Your mother just passed away. Isn't it right that I'm here for you?"

Jennifer and George had been childhood sweethearts. Jennifer's mother had been very good to George. If it weren't for Charlotte's appearance, Jennifer and George probably would have had children by now.

"Yes, your first love is so important to you. Her mother died, so you dropped everything to be with her. When my father died, you didn't even attend the funeral."

As Charlotte said this, even she felt the pain.

Two years ago, when her father passed away, George had used work as an excuse, only sending someone with condolence gifts without attending the funeral himself.

Charlotte's mother, Margaret Blake, had complained quite a bit at the time, but Charlotte had defended him.

Looking at George's attitude toward Jennifer now, it was truly ironic.

Before George could speak, Jennifer rushed to say, "Charlotte, it's all my fault. I couldn't accept my mother's death for a moment, and George has been staying by my side to take care of me. Please don't blame George, okay?"

"Is that so?" Charlotte's lips curved into a cold smile.

"Then you're fine now, aren't you? So why are you still clinging to my husband?"

George immediately said with displeasure, "Charlotte, stop being unreasonable!"

"I'm being unreasonable?"

Charlotte's emotions erupted without warning at that moment.

She pointed at Jennifer, her eyes reddening, and shouted, "Today is our wedding anniversary, yet you brought your first love into our home! What do you take me for?"

Her hysterical outburst didn't earn even the slightest bit of remorse from George. Instead, it triggered even stronger dissatisfaction. "Enough! Don't act like a shrew making a scene here and disturbing Jennifer's rest."

As he spoke, he helped Jennifer toward the bedroom upstairs.

Charlotte watched their retreating figures in despair, feeling that her three-year marriage was nothing but a complete joke.

Her voice calm, she said, "George, let's get a divorce."

George stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around, his brow furrowed. "What did you say?"

He thought he had heard wrong. The Charlotte in his memory had schemed and shamelessly married him—how could she possibly agree to divorce so easily?

"I said, I want a divorce!" Charlotte repeated. "George, since you can't forget your first love, I'll make it easy for you both!"

George's expression darkened immediately. "Have you thought this through?"

"Yes!" Charlotte's attitude was firm.

Seeing the tense atmosphere, Jennifer quickly tried to mediate. "Charlotte, don't say things in anger. Talk it over properly with George."

"There's nothing to talk about," George said disdainfully. "If she wants a divorce, fine! I'd like to see where she can go without me."

With that, he helped Jennifer upstairs without looking back.

Charlotte stood in the empty living room, dazed for a long while, before slowly walking upstairs.

Passing by the master bedroom door, she heard Jennifer's soft voice from inside. "George, I'm so scared. Every time I close my eyes, I see my mother."

The door wasn't closed, left slightly ajar.

Through the gap, Charlotte saw Jennifer nestled in George's arms, crying pitifully. "Can you stay here with me tonight, just like last time?"

George gently stroked her hair, his voice low. "Okay."

Charlotte closed her eyes. Her heart died completely in that moment.

She and George had been married for three years. George had never touched her, and they had always slept in separate rooms.

So George wasn't cold by nature—he just never intended to give that tenderness to her.

Charlotte silently returned to her bedroom, pulled out her suitcase from under the bed, and started packing.

Just then, her phone rang.

The caller said, "Ms. Blake, this is Elysian Designs. We've contacted you a few times before about our Chief Designer Assistant position. Have you given it any thought?"

Three years ago, she had won first place in an international design competition. Countless renowned fashion design companies had extended offers to her, but she had turned them all down.

Back then, her heart and mind were full of George. She only wanted to devote herself to her family and do her best to be George's wife.

Gradually, those design companies stopped calling.

Only Elysian Designs had persistently kept in touch.

The caller continued, "Our CEO heard that you're married and was worried you might have concerns, so he's specially arranged accommodation for your family as well, in case you can't leave them behind."

"That won't be necessary," Charlotte said calmly. "I'll take it."

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