He Wanted Me Sterilized for His Mistress, So I Divorced Him and Took Billions

The day Chloe showed up at our front door, flaunting her three-month baby bump, Julian kicked me out of the master bedroom in front of everyone. "Chloe is pregnant with my child. She can't be stressed right now." "From today on, this is her room." I looked at the man standing before me. Seven years ago, we built our empire from scratch with nothing to our names. Today, he was worth billions. And looking at him, I suddenly laughed. Seven years of marriage. I had taken out an eighty-million-dollar loan under my name to save his dying company. I stood by him through the darkest days when bankruptcy was knocking on the door. Yet, the first thing he did after taking his company public was buy Chloe a ten-million-dollar diamond ring. He stroked Chloe's stomach, then furrowed his brows and looked at me coldly: "You can stay as my legal wife, but on one condition." "You can never have my children. You must get a tubal ligation." I didn't argue, and I didn't cry. The very next morning, I had my lawyer draft the divorce petition. This time, I was done with him. And I was going to cash out every single cent that belonged to me. "Lauren, haven't you had enough of this drama?" Julian's voice came through the phone, thick with suppressed rage. "Chloe is carrying my baby. Do you seriously have to push for a divorce right now?" I sat on the couch, staring at the divorce papers on the coffee table. A wave of bitter amusement washed over me. Three years ago, when he first brought Chloe home, I had broken down, begging him not to leave. Three years later, his company had gone public, his net worth had skyrocketed, and Chloe was standing there, demanding I get sterilized. I hung up on him and finalized the legal strategy with my attorney. A moment later, my best friend Harper called, her voice bursting through the speaker: "Lauren, have you lost your mind? If you walk away now, you're just handing everything over to that disgusting pair!" "Julian is filthy rich now! You didn't leave when he was dead broke!" "Leaving now means you built him up from scratch just for that homewrecker to enjoy the ride!" I gave a dry, calm laugh. "Harper, in the stock market, when an asset goes bad, you cut your losses. But when it hits an all-time high, you cash out." "Julian is a man I stopped caring about long ago. The only thing left to hold onto is the cash. Divorcing him now is simply cashing out at the absolute peak." Seven years of marriage. During the first four, his startup was on the brink of collapse, drowning in debt. To keep him afloat, I put up my own assets and took out an eighty-million-dollar loan for his capital. The moment the company turned a profit, he crawled into Chloe's bed. When I first found out, I lost my mind. I screamed, I fought, and the grief nearly killed me. Three years ago, during one of our endless fights, our designer home had been smashed to pieces. I had lived like a lunatic back then. Some days I wanted to drag him down to hell with me. Other days I begged him in tears, asking him to cut ties with Chloe so we could go back to the way we were. He would promise me in the morning that it was over between them, only to check into a luxury hotel with her that very afternoon. We were caught in this soul-crushing cycle for six months, until one final, screaming match. Julian's eyes were bloodshot, and he said with utter seriousness: "I love you, Lauren. But I love Chloe too. I'm hopelessly in love with her. I'm begging you, stop fighting me on this. Isn't a life with the three of us good enough?" At that exact second, something inside me snapped. My heart went cold, and my mind cleared instantly. I stopped fighting. I stopped asking questions. I treated Julian like a ghost. I looked at him as nothing more than a bad stock I was temporarily trapped in. I was simply biding my time, waiting for the optimal moment to sell. Last year, his company went public. The stock surged from twenty dollars a share all the way to three hundred and twenty-one dollars. Right now was my absolute best window to file for divorce and cash out. A mountain of cash that I could never spend in ten lifetimes would replace every drop of heartbreak. Only taking everything he built could satisfy the grudge I held against him.I hadn't checked my phone for an hour. Fifty-eight missed calls, ninety-nine unread messages. A grim sense of satisfaction rose in my chest. Three years ago, when Julian didn't come home and spent the night in bed with Chloe, I had spent the night blowing up his phone, crying, texting like a desperate fool. It wasn't until the next day, when I checked his phone, that I saw he had put my contact on 'Do Not Disturb'. Every call, every panicked text, was delivered into silence. Back then, the pain had suffocated me. That agonizing humiliation was carved into my memory forever. The next morning, Julian's assistant knocked on my door, his face pale and grim: "Mrs. Moore, Julian's mother is in critical condition. Mr. Moore is begging you to come to the hospital." My heart skipped a beat. Julian's mother, Eleanor, had some minor health issues over the past few years, but she was usually well-managed. As much of a bastard as Julian was, Eleanor had always treated me like her own daughter. She had even thrown away her usual elegance, publicly confronting Chloe in a shopping mall, slapping her and warning her to stay away from her family. Over the years, the elderly woman had worn herself out trying to protect our marriage. Honestly, she treated me far better than she treated her own son. Hearing that she was in the ICU, panic seized me. Tears sprang to my eyes instantly. I rushed to the hospital as fast as I could. In the room, Eleanor was covered in tubes, completely unconscious. Julian was sitting by the bed, his eyes red and swollen. The moment he saw me, he stood up and roared: "Why didn't you pick up your damn phone?!" "Why didn't you reply to any of my texts?!" I wasn't about to get into a screaming match in front of his dying mother. I answered coldly: "Three years ago, you muted my number. I simply muted yours." "That way, you and Chloe could enjoy your romance without an outsider getting in the way." I paused, pointing firmly at the bed. "This is an ICU, Julian. Your mother is lying right there!" He put his hands on his hips, trying desperately to swallow his fury, lowering his voice into a harsh hiss: "Oh, now you care? Where was this concern before?!" "Mom has been sick for an entire month, and you didn't visit once! No calls, no texts!" "What kind of childish tantrum are you throwing this time?!" I let out a chilling sneer: "Why is she lying in that bed? Don't you know better than anyone?" "What right do you have to point fingers at me?!" A brief flash of guilt flickered across Julian's face. On my way here, his assistant had already filled me in. Chloe had marched into the Moore family estate with her three-month ultrasound report, demanding Eleanor's blessing. "I'm carrying your first grandchild!" "You have no choice but to accept me!" "Julian says I'm the only woman he truly loves. You're just going to have to deal with it!" "If you apologize to me and treat me right, maybe I'll let my baby call you Grandma. Otherwise, don't even dream of it!" Eleanor had been so furious that her blood pressure spiked; she collapsed, hitting the back of her head on the marble floor, triggering a massive hemorrhage. While the tension hung thick in the air, the monitors beside Eleanor suddenly let out a shrill, piercing alarm. A swarm of doctors and nurses rushed in, immediately wheeling the bed toward the emergency surgical suite. Before the heavy doors swung shut, Julian's phone rang. Chloe's sobbing voice echoed from the speaker: "Julian, your mom is just faking it to break us up! Fine, she gets what she wants." "Forget about me! I'm leaving your life forever!"Julian panicked, frantically trying to soothe her: "Chloe, stop it, please! My mother is literally in emergency surgery right now!" "Julian, I'm so disgusted with myself! I gave up my dignity to be your mistress, and your mother and wife still treat me like dirt!" "You swear you love me, but you're just full of lies! You won't sign the divorce papers, and you haven't even forced your wife to get that surgery!" "I'm done trusting you!" Julian was losing his mind, coddling Chloe like a desperate puppy: "I'm coming to you right now, okay? Please, stop crying." I stepped right in front of him, blocking his path: "Julian! Your mother is having brain surgery! They need your signature! You cannot walk out that door!" Without a second of hesitation, he shoved my arm aside, tossing over his shoulder: "You're here! Mom will be fine with you here!" And with that, he sprinted away. This wasn't the first time he had abandoned his family for Chloe. My heart had gone numb a long time ago. Not a single ripple of sorrow remained. Less than an hour later, a text from Chloe popped up on my phone: "See that? I matter more to Julian than his own dying mother." "Even with his mom on the operating table, one tear from me and he comes running back to my bed." Attached below were two intimate photos of them tangled up together. Over the past three years, I had received dozens of these photos. Every single one had been saved and backed up as evidence for my legal team. I stared at the bleak, sterile doors of the operating room. Once again, I was reminded that a man whose heart had turned cold was more terrifying than a monster. He couldn't even care for his own mother. Why on earth would he care about a wife? After three grueling hours of surgery, Eleanor was transferred to the surgical ICU. The prognosis was dire. The next day, Julian called me a dozen times. I ignored every single one. Finally, he sent a text: "Thanks for taking care of Mom at the hospital." "Chloe and I are flying out to Paris for some business. I'll be back as soon as I can." Minutes later, Chloe's gloating message landed in my inbox: "Just because I mentioned I craved brunch in Paris, your husband booked us first-class tickets." "I also casually said I want our baby to hold European citizenship and offshore trusts, and he agreed on the spot!" "He told me that the first wife is meant for hard labor, while I'm meant to look pretty and enjoy the fortune." "What's the point of clinging to the Moore name? In the end, every single penny will belong to me and my son!" Even though I never replied, she never grew tired of sending her toxic provocations. For an entire month, Chloe used Julian's phone to post their romantic escapades on Instagram every single day. I was long past caring. I just smiled coldly at the screen. What she didn't know was that yesterday, Eleanor had finalized her will. Eleanor was the largest single shareholder of Moore Enterprises. She had summoned a notary and her corporate attorneys to the bedside. While fully lucid, she dictated her last wishes, signed, and thumbprinted every document, leaving all her shares, properties, and personal wealth directly to me. Furthermore, she signed a whole-body donor agreement. She specifically forbade Julian from attending any memorial. Over the years, Julian hadn't just broken my heart; he had shattered his mother's soul. Half an hour ago, Eleanor passed away. In her final moments, I held up my phone, ready to call Julian. She weakly pushed my hand away. Her last words were: "He doesn't care. Don't waste your breath." My tears couldn't keep her in this world.There was no funeral for Eleanor. In accordance with her wishes, her body was handled directly through the anatomical donation protocol. Everything concluded in complete silence, as if she had simply slipped away into the night. My attorney sent me a notification: our court date for the divorce trial was set for three days from now. The day I had been waiting for was finally arriving. While getting a facial at an upscale spa, I crossed paths with Chloe. Lying on the treatment bed next to mine, her slight bump was visible. Without any shame in front of the estheticians, she smirked at me: "A woman who isn't loved and desperately clings to a dead marriage will look pathetic no matter how much skincare she gets." "Do you know how Julian talks about you? He says you're boring, stiff as a board in bed. If his mom hadn't been standing in the way, he would've dumped you eight hundred times over." Her words didn't leave a scratch on me. I laid there calmly, my voice dropping to an icy chill: "A lawful wife carries herself with class. Unlike a full-time mistress whose only trade is peddling her body in bed." "Julian once mentioned that your 'technique' rivaled the most expensive escorts in the city. When a woman has serviced as many clients as you have, I suppose you learn not to be stiff." Chloe shot straight up from the bed, her face contorting with rage. I looked down at her with pure disgust: "And let me clear something up for you: it's not that I refuse to divorce him. It's your precious Julian who's on his knees, begging me to stay." "He 'loves' you so much that he keeps you around as a filthy little secret. Only a homewrecker like you would wear that like a badge of honor." I grabbed my bag, opened my message logs, and shoved the screen in her face: "Open your blind eyes and take a damn good look. See how this man who supposedly loves you so much is begging me not to leave him!" Chloe's expression twisted into something uglier than stepping on garbage. I turned and walked toward the exit. Out in the lobby, I spotted Julian striding toward the entrance. His assistant was hurrying beside him, offering a cautious reminder: "Mr. Moore, your wife filed for divorce over a month ago. She hasn't withdrawn the petition. The hearing is scheduled in three days." Julian waved his hand dismissively: "Ignore it. She saw me take Chloe on vacation and she's just throwing another fit." The assistant looked uneasy. "Sir, if we fail to appear, the court could issue a default judgment that might severely damage your interests." Julian sneered with absolute confidence: "She won't actually divorce me. She just feels slighted because Chloe is pregnant. It's a power play." "If she really wanted to leave, she wouldn't have stayed at the hospital caring for my mother. Besides, she has nobody in this world except me!" A cold laugh bubbled up inside me. Julian, your arrogance is going to bury you alive. Three days later, neither Julian nor his legal team showed up in court. The judge deemed his absence a willful failure to appear without justifiable cause—a massive advantage for my case. My evidence of his infidelity and financial contributions was airtight. With Mr. Miller's relentless execution, I walked out of the courthouse with a final decree of divorce. And an equitable distribution order granting me half of the marital estate—worth twenty-three billion dollars. At that moment, an immense weight lifted off my shoulders. I booked a flight to the Maldives that very afternoon. The day before my departure, I was picking up some travel essentials at a luxury boutique when I ran into Julian and Chloe. The moment Chloe saw me, her face fell, and she began whining to Julian with tears in her eyes: "Look at her! She's clearly fully recovered! You swore to me you would force her to get that tubal ligation!" "It's been over a month, and she hasn't touched the operating table! That day at the spa, she called me a cheap escort to my face!" "You said you'd stand up for me! What have you actually done?!" "I can see it clearly now—you don't love me at all! Julian, I've had enough of your empty promises!" Her hysteria escalated as she pulled her usual guilt trip: "My baby and I are just an inconvenience to you! Fine, go back to your wife!" Julian panicked, scrambling to wrap his arms around her: "Sweetheart, she was busy looking after Mom at the hospital, wasn't she? I'll have the clinic prep her for the procedure right now, okay?" Chloe wept dramatically: "Right now! Either you finalize your divorce, or you make her get that surgery! Pick one right this second!" Julian didn't hesitate for a beat. He turned to his two private bodyguards: "Take my wife to the surgical center. Have the doctor perform the sterilization immediately." "Yes, sir!" The two towering men stepped toward me. I let out a scathing laugh: "Julian, we are already divorced! Even if we weren't, you have zero legal or physical right to touch my body!" He looked at me as if I were talking nonsense: "We've been married for seven years and you haven't conceived once. It's obvious you're infertile anyway." "So stop throwing a fit over a simple procedure." He paused, adding with a patronizing sigh: "Mom's condition just stabilized. You can threaten me with divorce behind closed doors, but don't you dare bring it up to Mom. She'll never let us split." I sneered, pulled the certified divorce decree from my purse, and slammed it straight into his chest: "Look closely! The judge signed the final decree three days ago!" "And guess what? You don't have a mother anymore! She died while you were busy screwing your mistress in Paris!"