Divorce My Billionaire Husband

Three years into my arranged marriage with Julian Sterling, I unlocked a Divorce Compensation System. The rule was simple: if Julian agreed to sign the divorce papers within thirty days, I’d receive a fifty-million-dollar cash payout. I wasn’t broke by any means, but who in their right mind turns down fifty million? Besides, this lukewarm, convenient sham of a marriage was completely pointless anyway. So, I slid the prepared divorce agreement right across the desk to him. Julian glared at the paper, his jaw clenching so hard I could hear his teeth grind. "Chloe, what kind of childish game are you playing this time?" Just as I opened my mouth to fire back, glowing lines of text suddenly drifted across my field of vision. [SCREAMING! Julian hasn't even confessed his feelings yet and he’s already getting dumped?!] [Girl, do NOT do this! The man is literally down bad for you! You’re tearing his heart into pieces!] Wait. The System vs. mysterious floating comments... Which one was I supposed to believe? Julian merely glanced at the papers, snatched his blazer off the rack, and stormed out the door without looking back. The glowing comments kept floating in the air. Thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me, I swiped at them, catching nothing but empty air. [Look at him! His eyes were red! He’s heartbroken!] [This emotionally repressed idiot has a mouth, why won't he use it?! Wasted three whole years! Girl, don’t rush the divorce, give him one more chance!] I scoffed. In our three years of marriage, Julian and I lived like polite roommates. Separate bedrooms, civil conversations, familiar yet completely distant. Back then, my family’s business was hitting a rough patch and desperately needed backing from the Sterling Group. Julian’s mom adored me, and so, Julian and I—lifelong rivals—ended up with rings on our fingers. Over the years, we cooperated well enough. We stayed out of each other's hair. I honestly thought we’d just coast through life like this until the Divorce Compensation System suddenly activated. Fifty million dollars. Fifty million! How could I not jump at that? With that kind of cash, I could permanently stabilize my family’s investments, and Julian and I wouldn’t have to play the dutiful, fake-happy couple in public anymore. Yet the arrogant jerk actually thought I was playing a prank. Typical Julian, always assuming the worst of me. I was being completely sincere! No. For fifty million bucks, this divorce was happening whether he liked it or not. While I was racking my brain trying to figure out how to force his signature, those bizarre floating comments kept throwing me off. Honestly? Between believing my bitter childhood rival was secretly in love with me and believing I'd get fifty million from a magical system, I’d take the cash any day. Besides, Evelyn was back in town. With Julian’s legendary "first love" returning from abroad, our divorce was practically guaranteed. God was smiling on me. My three years of marital prison were finally coming to an end. To celebrate my impending single life, I did something I rarely did: I dragged my best friend out to a high-end club. "Chloe, look at you, living on the wild side!" Harper shouted over the thumping bass, leaning close with a wicked smirk under the flashing neon lights. "Aren't you worried Mr. Sterling is gonna lose his mind?" I glanced sideways at the two ridiculously hot, ripped bottle boys Harper had hired to pour our drinks. Abs for days. "Worried about what? Julian’s probably going to set me free any day now." Harper’s eyes went wide with pure gossip. "Wait, really? He’s actually letting you walk?" Letting me walk? Why wouldn't he? We were a business arrangement with zero emotional attachment. I downed the shot one of the guys handed me. The tequila burned down my throat, making my eyes water. Right on cue, another row of floating comments popped up. [Girl, keep dreaming! Julian doesn't want to set you free, he wants to lock you in a room and keep you all to himself!] [Freedom? Zero chance. Losing you is literally his worst nightmare!] [OH NO SHE DIDN'T. She hired hot guys at a club?! Julian is on his way with blood in his eyes!!] Slightly buzzed, I read the floating lines and chuckled to myself. Yeah, right. Evelyn was back. Julian was definitely spending tonight keeping her company. Everyone around us assumed Julian and I grew up together, so our marriage must have been a natural, sweet progression of childhood sweethearts. Even Harper, who read way too many dark romance novels, convinced herself Julian was some cold-blooded billionaire harboring an obsessive, secret passion for me. Only I knew the truth. Julian and I had been at each other's throats since preschool. We were strictly business partners. In three years, our physical intimacy consisted entirely of accidental elbow brushes. Harper and I drank until the world started spinning. I’ve always been a lightweight. Three drinks in, the hot guys around me started multiplying. "Hey, handsome..." I giggled, totally wasted and throwing all dignity out the window. "Hold still. Let me see if those abs are real." Before my greedy little hands could reach his shirt, a steel grip clamped down around my wrist. "Chloe Vance. What the hell do you think you're touching?!" The voice was terrifyingly familiar. I blinked heavily, struggling to focus through the alcoholic haze, and vaguely made out a face that looked suspiciously like Julian’s. "Harper..." I slurred, giggling into his chest. "The guy you ordered looks just like Julian. Haha... cool. Let's have him spend the night with me..."The next morning, I woke up with a headache that felt like someone was using a jackhammer on my skull. My throat was as dry as sandpaper. Groaning, I scrambled to sit up and chugged the entire glass of water resting on my nightstand. Looking around, I noticed I was in my own bedroom, wearing clean pajamas. Wow. Look at me, handling my liquor like a champ! Even completely wasted, I managed to get myself home—even if I had zero recollection of how it happened. Just as I was mentally patting myself on the back, the door swung open. Julian stood there, looking cold enough to freeze hell over. "You're awake? Get up and eat." Seeing his sour face instantly killed my good mood. "None of your business. I’m going back to sleep." I gave him a dirty look and yanked the duvet over my head. The comments floated back into view. [Uh-oh. The jealousy is practically dripping off him, and she’s completely clueless!] [Julian is literally on the verge of exploding! God, why did he have to be born with a mouth he never uses?! Just tell her you love her, man!] Jealousy? Julian? Over what? Before I could process the words, Julian ripped the blanket right off me. "Get up and eat some chicken soup. You threw up all over the place last night. You need something in your stomach." He waved a hand, and the housekeeper brought in a tray of breakfast. I sat there quietly sipping the broth, a creeping sense of dread settling in my gut. How did he know I threw up? I didn't remember puking at all. "So... you know I had too much to drink last night?" I asked cautiously, looking at him while he silently drank his black coffee. "Yeah." Julian didn't even look up. Face completely blank. "Did I... say anything weird?" My panic spiked. Alcohol really was the enemy. My original plan was to let him reconnect with his first love, get our clean divorce, and cash in. But if Julian found out that his legal wife was at a nightclub groping hired dancers, wouldn't that make me the guilty party in this marriage? "You mistook me for a club dancer," Julian said flatly. "You tried to touch my abs, and demanded I stay the night with you." The floating chat exploded: [LMAOOOO she treated her billionaire husband like an escort! Icon behavior!] [She was literally all over him last night! Kept screaming that if his 'service' was good, she'd tip him big! I wonder what Julian's hourly rate is, haha!] Between Julian’s deadpan delivery and the floating text right in front of my face, I choked. A mouthful of hot broth sprayed straight out—landing squarely across Julian’s crisp white shirt. Before my brain could even process the sheer horror of my actions from last night, the current crime scene dealt me another blow. Panicking, I grabbed a handful of napkins and lunged forward to wipe his chest. Julian’s brow twitched. He looked down at me, totally unamused. "You spit on me. Again." With that, he turned on his heel and headed to his room to shower, leaving me frozen in a pool of humiliation and panic. The second his door clicked shut, I scrambled for my phone and dialed Harper. "Awake already?" Harper’s lazy, teasing voice came through the speaker. "Guess Julian didn't punish you hard enough last night." "What does Julian have to do with anything?!" I squeaked, my voice shaking. "Girl, your husband literally came to drag your drunk ass out of the VIP booth! You were screaming at the top of your lungs that you wanted him in your bed all night to check his six-pack!" "I didn't know you had it in you to publicly harass Julian Sterling." "After he carried you out over his shoulder, did he tear your clothes off? You guys have the weirdest foreplay, I swear." Harper cackled on the other end, clearly writing an entire erotic novel in her head. I didn't have the energy to play along. I had been caught red-handed. Hiring club guys, demanding private services, and—worst of all—groping Julian thinking he was an escort. I was doomed. Morally, I had completely lost the upper hand. You know what? Screw it. My ultimate goal was still a divorce! Since he already thought the worst of me, I might as well lean into the villain role. I marched over, knocked on Julian’s door, and stared firmly at my slippers. "Let's get a divorce.""What did you just say?" Julian’s deep voice dropped from above, icy and dangerous. "You saw everything last night!" I blurted out, forcing myself to sound brave. "I hit the clubs, I hired guys! Who knows, maybe tomorrow I’ll actually cheat on you!" "If we get divorced now, at least we both save face!" I gathered all my courage, looked up, and froze. He had just stepped out of the shower. His dark robe hung loosely around his shoulders, left casually half-open. Droplets of water still clung to his chiseled chest, tracing a slow, agonizing path down toward his waist. Does he actually have an eight-pack? I swallowed hard, my eyes shamelessly tracking a stray droplet. Say what you want about Julian being an arrogant jerk, but the man had grown into an absolute Greek god. [Girl, you practically felt up his entire torso last night and turned the screen into a censor bar, and you STILL don’t remember if he has abs?!] [Julian is down so bad it's tragic. He practically offered his virgin body on a silver platter, and she didn't even notice.] [Julian is way too gentlemanly. He should’ve just pinned her to the bed and taken care of business! She wouldn't be talking about divorce now!] Reading the floating comments, my face caught fire. Oh God. What on earth did I do to him last night?! Is he going to think I'm asking for a divorce just to play hard to get?! "Chloe," Julian said, his voice unusually low and rough. "Are you really asking for a divorce over some club dancer?" "It’s not about the dancers!" I snapped, falling back on our usual bickering. "We don't love each other! This was a business deal from day one! We can't stay chained to each other forever!" We had been arguing like this our entire lives. Sure, I was in the wrong about the club, but that didn't mean I was going to back down. Besides, thanks to the chat, I knew I had thoroughly embarrassed myself. Let him think I was a heartless player who used him and tossed him aside! Fifty million dollars was calling my name. I couldn't afford to get distracted by cheap romance. And Julian definitely didn't love me like those stupid comments claimed. The comments were obviously a test from the System to distract me from my bag! Julian stared at me for a long time before looking away. His voice cracked slightly. "Are you sure you want this?" I opened my mouth, but the floating text blocked my view: [DON'T BE SO CRUEL, I BEG YOU!!] [I'm crying, Julian loves her so much, don't leave him!] [Stop talking about divorce! If you stay with him, he won't just give you his billion-dollar empire, he'd give you his literal life!] [He looks like he’s about to cry, stop torturing him!!] A billion-dollar empire? I knew the Sterlings were loaded, but a billion? Still, what did that have to do with me? It wasn't like he'd just hand it over. I peeked at Julian's profile. The corners of his eyes actually looked slightly red. Wait... was he really going to cry? Back in the day, whenever we fought and I couldn't beat him with words, I’d hit him. His sharp tongue always used to reduce me to tears. But after we got married, he became distant and polite. No more petty arguments, no more roughhousing. Acting on instinct, I reached out and gently turned his face toward me. The moment my fingers touched his skin, I swear a flush of pink crept onto his cheeks. "What?" Julian mumbled, refusing to meet my eyes. He sounded sulky, almost wounded. I cupped his face with both hands, forcing him to look at me. "Evelyn is back in town. You know that, right?" "What does her coming back have to do with me?" "She’s your first love! Now that we're getting divorced, you're free to get back together with her!" The second the words left my mouth, Julian slapped my hands away. "Who the hell said I wanted to get back with her?! Chloe, is your head filled with garbage?!" Just like that, his sulky vulnerability vanished, replaced by his usual infuriating arrogance. Oh, so we're back to being petty? Fine, let's go! "My head is filled with YOU!" The words slipped out before my brain could stop them. Dead silence fell over the room. Julian froze in shock. I froze in utter, soul-crushing mortification. What was that?! Why did I always lose when arguing with him? I fell right into his trap every single time! Before I could backpedal, Julian’s shock melted into a slow, smug grin. He leaned down, his face dangerously close to mine. "If your head is that full of me, then stop whining about a divorce every five minutes." My brain short-circuited. We were literally discussing our separation! How did it flip into this?! The floating comments were spamming heart emojis: [YASSS KING! GO OFF!] [Keep going! The brick wall finally learned how to flirt!] [SO SWEET! I SHIP THEM SO HARD!] Looking at Julian’s smug, gorgeous face hovering inches away, I swallowed nervously. No. I had to regain control of this conversation. "So we don't get divorced? What, do we have an open marriage instead?" I challenged. "You go see Evelyn, I go party with hot guys, and we live our best lives?"