บททั้งหมดของ Turning Heads After Divorce: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

It was January 15th in Everton. A bitter winter night brought heavy snowflakes that blanketed the ground, only to be trampled into a muddy slush by pedestrians and vehicles.A blue Audi sat parked by the roadside. Bundled in a snow-white down coat and clutching a fresh bouquet of roses from the florist, Marisol Speight walked toward her car while dialing Lucian Muller's number.Today marked their eighth wedding anniversary. She'd finished work early, hoping to surprise her husband with a romantic candlelit dinner to celebrate surviving the seven-year itch and stepping into their eighth year of marriage.The first call went unanswered. After two more attempts, a cold voice finally answered. "What do you want?"Marisol's smile faltered, but she pressed on. "We agreed to have dinner outside tonight. The reservation is at—""Working. Busy."The line went dead before she could reply. Marisol stood frozen in the biting wind as she clutched her phone. The cold seeped into her bones, mir

Early in the morning, Marisol woke to the shrill alarm of her phone. Her head was pounding dully. She'd probably caught a cold from standing out in the snow last night.Rubbing her throbbing temples, she pulled clothes from her suitcase when a red object accidentally tumbled out. It rolled several times across the floor before coming to a stop.It was a fist-sized robot wearing a red top hat.The pudgy iron robot looked crude and cheap. Its dull gray body contrasted sharply with the bright red hat. This had been her wedding gift, if it could even be called that.When she and Lucian married, they'd simply registered their marriage. There was no ceremony, no celebration with friends, no public announcement beyond a sterile corporate notice about the young chairman's marriage.Her identity as his wife remained unacknowledged. Only Lucian's inner circle even knew she existed.That night after getting their marriage certificate, she'd asked if he'd ever loved her. Lucian's eyes burned

Marisol refused to make a scene over this trash in public. Since she had secured photos, she pulled Alinta toward their parked car across the street. But they barely stepped out of the bar before being blocked.A stern-faced young man in a sharply tailored black suit stood before them—tall, broad-shouldered, and utterly immovable. Marisol recognized him instantly.He was Zayne Burnett, Lucian's personal assistant. Raised by Muller Group since childhood, Zayne had been selected in high school to serve directly under Lucian. The man was fanatically loyal and Lucian's most trusted weapon.He showed no courtesy to anyone, followed only Lucian's orders, and was as cold as they came.Marisol had always disliked him.His approach now, combined with Lucian's earlier expression, promised nothing good. Her grip tightened around her phone."Mrs. Muller." Zayne extended his hand with zero expression and said in a flat voice, "Your phone, please."Marisol didn't respond, but she also made no

Andre's eyes lit up the moment he heard Nevaeh's voice."Nevaeh! Nevaeh!" he shouted excitedly, then huffed in annoyance."Dad, you liar! You promised me but didn't keep your word! I'm not talking to you anymore! Nevaeh, Dad lied to me!"By the end, he was practically tattling to Nevaeh.On the other end, Nevaeh took the phone and gently soothed Andre. She playfully scolded Lucian a little before promising to take Andre out on the weekend and play games with him. Only then did Andre finally cheer up.Nevaeh always knew how to handle him. In the past, whenever Lucian scolded him or upset him, going to Marisol never helped. His dad never listened to her anyway.After a while, Andre reluctantly hung up. But as soon as the call ended, he suddenly remembered what Lucian had just said—his mom was supposedly back from her business trip.Did that mean she was coming home tonight?No way! If she came back, she'd start nagging him again and restricting his gaming time. That woman was ann

Marisol and Alinta finished their meal, chatted for a while, and then left. As they exited, muffled laughter still drifted from the private room across the hall—Andre's childish giggles being the most distinct of all.Alinta shot a cautious glance at Marisol. Only when she saw that her friend's expression remained unreadable did she relax slightly—though her worry didn't lessen one bit.This wasn't just a failing marriage. She'd witnessed firsthand how clingy Marisol's own son was with Nevaeh when the group arrived earlier. They were disgustingly affectionate.It was no wonder Marisol had given up custody so readily when discussing the divorce.Alinta hadn't pressed at the time, but she'd had her suspicions. For the first few years of Marisol's marriage, she'd often brought Andre along for visits—they'd even talked about Alinta becoming his godmother.Then, over the past year or so, Marisol suddenly stopped bringing him along.Whenever asked, she would claim he was busy with stud