Noah's POV:I pulled up in front of The Silver Fork, the dim glow from the restaurant's exterior lights reflecting off my car’s windshield. The place was as exclusive as rumored—chic, modern, and a hotspot for the city’s most prominent figures. I’d been to my fair share of fine dining spots, but this place was different. I stepped out of the car, the cold air brushing against my face, as I walked toward the entrance. The doorman greeted me with a polite nod. Stepping inside, I made my way to the reception desk, where a young woman stood.“Good evening, Sir.” She greeted me, scanning her tablet. “Do you have a reservation?”“Yes, Noah Sylvester.” I replied, watching her eyes flick over the screen.She glanced at me for a moment before tapping a few keys, then smiled up at me. “Yes, Mr. Sylvester, we have you down for Table 9 in the private dining area. Apologies for the delay. I’ll have my colleague escort you in.”“No problem.”She motioned to a man standing nearby, who gave me a sli
Mirabelle's POV:I woke up slowly, the morning light passing through the curtains and falling gently on Noah's sleeping face. His body was sprawled across the bed. I smiled as I watched him sleep, his hair a little scattered. He looked peaceful, and I almost hated to disturb him.It was Sunday, so neither of us had work to worry about. I stretched, careful not to wake him, and quietly slipped out of bed. My stomach growled a little —apparently, I was hungrier than I thought. I ran across the room, brushing my teeth in the bathroom before making my way to the kitchen.As I stepped into the kitchen, I immediately spotted Jamie. She was standing by the counter, engrossed in her phone. I didn’t think much of it at first, but as I took a step closer, I noticed the way she seemed to be focused so intently on her screen, like she was trying to hide something."Jamie!" I called out.She jumped, her body shaking as if I’d startled her. And the phone slipped from her hand and clattered to the
Ken's POV: I sat at the kitchen counter, spooning cereal into my mouth. I hadn’t had an actual meal in what felt like weeks. The cereal was bland, tasteless, but it was quick and easy, which was all I had time for. I glanced around the kitchen, the dishes piling up in the sink, the countertops cluttered with the remnants of breakfast and half-finished cups of coffee. I was used to this. Mitchelle had never been one for domesticity, and honestly, I didn’t care. The fact that she spent more time in front of a mirror than taking care of anything else around here didn’t bother me much anymore. What bothered me was the reality of my situation. I was stuck with a woman that felt more like a business arrangement than anything resembling love. Mitchelle was too wrapped up in herself to notice, but it didn’t matter. I wasn’t exactly in love with her anymore. The thought that she might be losing interest was honestly a relief. It made it easier to picture a life without her when the t
Noah's POV: I sat on the edge of the couch, my hands wrapped around a glass of whiskey that I hadn't yet touched. The kids were in their rooms, quiet for the moment. I could hear faint sounds of their voices, but nothing to distract me. I was still trying to figure out what the hell had gone wrong with Mirabelle. A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. I glanced up to see my grandad, stepping into the living room. "How are things going?" He asked, taking a seat opposite me. His voice was soft, like he didn’t want to intrude, but I knew he already knew the answer. I leaned back, running a hand through my hair. "Not great," I muttered. "Mirabelle and I... we had a fight." His brow furrowed, and he gave me a thoughtful look. “And what was it about?” I sighed. I wasn’t sure where to start, but I knew I had to tell him everything. I needed to get it out, to have someone listen without judgment. “I went out last night to meet a man who’s interested in selling a piece of lan
Mirabelle's POV:The bouquet on my desk was obnoxiously large, it had both roses and lilies arranged. I didn’t bother to check the card to know who they were from, but I read it anyway."To my beautiful Mirabelle. I’m sorry. Please let me explain. Love, Noah."A sigh escaped me. Love. The word used to mean something. I could feel my fingers tighten around the card as my mind replayed the last few days. The picture of Noah with Natasha had branded itself in my memory, flaring up like a fire whenever I closed my eyes. He said it was innocent, that I had misunderstood, but how was I supposed to believe him? Even now, he was still working with her.I shoved the card into the drawer and pushed the bouquet aside. I had half a mind to toss them in the trash, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. As I tried to go back to work, my thoughts kept wandering back to Noah.Deep down, I wanted to forgive him. Part of me yearned for things to be as they once were, before Natasha and her perfect
Noah's POV:I straightened my collar and ran a hand through my hair as I entered the lobby of Mirabelle’s office building, holding a bouquet of fresh lilies and roses. The receptionist looked up from her desk, giving me a polite but blank look.“Can I help you?” She asked, eyes flicking to the flowers, then back to me.“Yes. I’d like these delivered to Mirabelle Davis, please.” I replied.“Are you on her visitor list?” She asked, with just enough of a questioning tone to make my irritation spark.“I’m…Noah,” I introduced, biting back my pride. “I’m her husband.”“Oh, Mr. Sylvester!” The receptionist stood up. “I hadn’t realized—of course. I’ll see that they’re delivered right away.”As the receptionist turned to take the flowers, I hesitated, feeling a slight awkwardness at leaving without even a glimpse of Mirabelle. I wanted to see her reaction, to see if my gesture might chip away at her anger.“Actually…could you make sure she gets these directly?” I forced a smile, hoping to conv
Mirabelle's POV:The silence in the study was oddly soothing as I sat at my desk, trying to push aside the thoughts of last night’s argument. I'd spent hours thinking about Noah, replaying his gestures and words over and over in my mind. The flowers, the apology, the effort to make things right… They all seemed genuine, but then my mind returned to the nagging question that refused to let her rest— why can't he call off the partnership with her, if he's truly sorry?My phone buzzed, and for a moment, I thought nothing of it. But when the notification flashed on the screen, my stomach twisted. Entertainment News: CEO Caught on Late-Night Outing with Model.Without even thinking, my finger hovered over the headline. A click. And then—there it was. A photo of Noah and Natasha. The image was grainy, taken in the dim light of a bar, their faces were close, heads bent toward one another. They looked… intimate, as if they were about to... My breath hitched. I had seen the photo before
Mirabelle's POV:I swallowed hard, walking toward the table. My heart was beating louder in my ears with every step. As I reached the table, I hesitated, then she moved her scarf just enough for me to see her face.It was Natasha!I moved back slightly, my instincts screaming at me to walk away, to turn around and leave before I got any deeper into whatever game she was playing. But Natasha’s eyes held me in place.She tilted her head, as if she was amused by my shock. "Mirabelle.” She said softly, her voice almost too sweet. "Aren’t you curious about what happened between Noah and I?"For a moment, I just stared at her, too stunned to say anything. But my shock quickly morphed into anger. How dare she? How dare she sit there and act like nothing had happened between them? Like she wasn’t the reason I was questioning everything I knew about Noah?I fought to keep my voice calm. "Why should I care? Why should I even be here, listening to this?"Natasha smiled, a smile that didn’t quite
Morgana's POV:FIVE YEARS LATER………“Noah!” I called out, tying my hair back with a band.Where could he be? Suddenly, I bumped into someone. Looking up, I saw it was the cook in her white apron and cap. Sighing deeply, I asked, “Where is he? Please tell me you found him.”“I couldn’t find him, Ma'am,” She replied, her head hung low. “This house is huge; he could be anywhere. I had the maids search everywhere for him. We’ll find him soon, I promise.”“I hope so, Lola. Xavier is on his way back, and he hates it when his rest is disturbed.”“Don’t worry, ma'am. We’ll definitely find him before Sir returns, trust me…”“I found him!” Someone called out, and we hurried toward the voice.We entered the library and saw a maid standing by the door.“Where is he?” I asked.“Behind the third shelf,” She replied curtly. “You both can leave now,” I instructed. “And please shut the door behind you.”I moved behind the third shelf to find my sweet pie crouched down, his head hanging low.“What's
Morgana's POV:I picked up the envelope and started to open it. "What is this? Is it some kind of petition or something?" I asked, still struggling with the seal.“Divorce papers!” He replied and my hands froze in the air.“Y-you are kidding right?”“Do I look like I came all the way here to joke?” He asked, sounding all serious and impatient. Tears filled my eyes as I looked at the man I called my husband. “Why are you doing this to me, Simon? What have I ever done to you to deserve this?”“Honestly, I can’t believe you’re asking me this right now,” He began. “Marilyn is stuck in a wheelchair for God knows how long, and she has a severe brain injury that I can only pray she recovers from. And you're asking me what you've done to deserve this when you actually deserve more!”“So this is all because of Marilyn huh?” I asked, staring deeply at him. “I am telling you I didn't push her off the fucking stairs. She fell while trying to push me down.”“Why should I believe you?” He sneered
Morgana's POV:The doors were suddenly pushed open and I shut my eyes instinctively. I could hear approaching footsteps, but I continued to feign sleep. “She is still asleep.” I heard a male voice say.“What could be wrong with her?” A familiar female voice asked. “She's pregnant.” The man replied, my eyes flung open when I heard his words.‘How? When?’It finally dawned on me, the night Marilyn's divorce was announced in the news and she had contacted Simon for emotional support. He came back home extremely happy and drunk, and that night we had sex for the very first time. The next morning when he woke up he hated me more, he claimed that I took advantage of his drunken state to have my way with him.How did that one night together result in pregnancy?‘Simon needs to know about this, he will come for me the moment he finds out that I am pregnant with his child.’ I thought.“She is awake.” I heard a male voice announce. Tilting my head to the side, I saw a middle aged man, dresse
Morgana's POV:“You are under arrest for attempting to murder Miss. Marilyn Pearce.” Agent Cooper began. ‘Attempted murder? Under arrest?’ My mind suddenly began to race. “Simon, are you aware of this?” I asked turning to face him, there was absolutely no way he would allow these men take me in. This was obviously one of Marilyn's schemes. “All your questions will be answered in court, Mrs. Langston.” Agent Cooper said coldly. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one, an attorney will be provided for you.” He said, as he moved in to cuff me.“She tried to push me, I moved away and she fell, that's all!” I protested, crying bitterly.“I suggest you cooperate, Mrs Morgana, or you might lose any chance of getting an attorney.” Agent Carter cautioned.And just like that, I was handcuffed and dragged to the police car while my husband stood there staring at me
Title— Divorced In Jail: Vengeance On My Billionaire Ex-husband.Blurb:After getting divorced and arrested by her husband~Simon Langston, who is known as a wealthy Billionaire tycoon in all of California.Simon Langston believes that Morgana had tried to kill his ex, Marilyn, prompting him to put Morgana behind bars for attempted murder but Morgana is unexpectedly saved by Simon's business rival, Xavier Hills. He offers her a shocking proposal: A contract marriage. In exchange for providing for her and the child she carries, Morgana must supply Xavier with every information that could potentially bring Simon's company to its knees. Five years later, Simon wants both Morgana and their child back. But can his heartfelt gestures surprisingly move her? Will Morgana fall for him again and end her five-years marriage with Xavier Hills? Chapter One~Morgana's POV:I stepped out of the room in a blue sundress, my blonde hair tied up in a messy bun. As I approached the stairs, one thought
CHAPTER One Hundred and Eighteen. Noah's POV. The early morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft hues of gold. I lay on my side, watching her sleep, Mirabelle. My wife. The woman who had somehow managed to drive me to the brink of madness and still make me fall head over heels for her every single day. Her dark lashes fanned against her cheeks, her breathing soft and even. There was a slight flush to her skin, her lips parted enough for me to see that faintest smile tugging at the corners. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful. My chest tightened as I took her in, my heart swelling with emotions that I still couldn't quite put into words. I couldn't help but smile, it has been a year since everything–since the chaos that Natasha had unleashed on our lives. A year since we’d nearly lost everything. But now? Now, our life was a calm that I never thought I would really experience. Filled with laughter, love and the promise of new beginnings. My gaze drif
CHAPTER One Hundred and Seventeen. Mirabelle's POV. The first thing I noticed was the sound–a steady rhythmic beeping that pierced through the haze of my mind. It was faint at first, distant, like an echo calling me from the depths of a fog I couldn't escape. My head throbbed, a dull persistent ache, and my eyelids felt impossibly heavy as I tried to open them. The light was too bright. I squinted, the sterile white of the room assaulting my senses. Everything was blurred, shapes and shadows bending together in a surreal dance. I blinked, my lashes wet with tears I hadn't realised were there, and slowly, the world began to take shape. A hospital room. The faint antiseptic smell hit me next, mingling with the sterile cold air. My body felt alien, like it wasn't mine. My limbs were leaden, my chest tight and a sharp pain radiated from the right side of my abdomen. I tried to shift, sit up, but the movement sent a fiery wave of pain tearing through me, forcing a gasp from my lips.
CHAPTER 116.Mirabelle's POV. He was here. My Noah, my husband. The man who I betrayed but still protected me like I didn't, even though he denied it to himself. He looked panicked when he came in here, but now, his gaze was suddenly cold. His expression was unreadable and it scared me, like the calm before the storm. I knew Noah was going to save me, he wasn't going to leave me to die because of what I did to him, right?I wasn't even sure anymore, I was on the brink of death and thinking stupid things. At least if he didn't save me, I was sure that he would save our kids. “Noah…” my voice broke, but he didn't look at me. His eyes was fixed on Natasha, who stood with that wicked smile on her face, holding all the power. Her eyes gleamed like she was enjoying every moment of this. Of course she was. “You'll regret this.” Noah said, his voice sharp like a blade, cutting through the tension. Natasha just laughed, her head tilting back slightly as those he had told her a joke.“Oh
CHAPTER 115.Mirabelle's POV. A sharp, stinging pain exploded behind my eyes as I slowly regained consciousness, my head felt heavy, and my vision swam, disoriented by the dim, flickering light of the room. The first thing I noticed was the metallic smell of blood. My blood, my lip throbbed, split from what I assume was a blow. As my vision cleared, panic set in. My wrists were tied behind me, the coarse rope biting into my skin. My ankles were bound to the legs of a chair, I tried to shift, but the chair wouldn't budge from the floor. The cold metal pressed on my chest felt foreign, and when I dared to look down, my breath caught in my throat. A bomb. Wires tangled over my body, a cruel, intricate web of destruction. The timer on the device blinked ominously, though it was yet to start. My heart hammered against my ribs. The sound deafening my ears. “No.” I whispered, shaking my head in disbelief. “No, no, no….”My eyes darted around the room, desperate for answers, desperate f