Billionaire, Let's Divorce!

I stared at Mark in disbelief, my eyes widening incredulously as his demand echoed in the room, harshly bouncing off the walls. His determined eyes were fixated on me, his lips were set in a straight line and his arms that were folded across his chest hinted at his seriousness.

"You're saying I have to give you a million dollars as a breakup f*e?!" The words burst from my lips and my voice resounded in the room. "What the actual hell! A million dollars?" The absurdity of his request was incredulous.

"Yes, you have to give me a million dollars before I sign those papers," he answered calmly as if he was asking me to pay him a measly sum of three hundred dollars. The nonchalant demeanor with which he responded only did more to heighten my disbelief than make me come to terms with his demand.

"You can't possibly be serious," I exclaimed, the words tumbling out of my mouth in a mixture of disbelief and frustration as I got on my knees on the bed, all strung up. "You're a billionaire, and yet you're asking me for a breakup f*e?"

"That's right," He replied, his tone was firm and unwavering and his gaze was steady as he met my incredulous stare.

That's insane, Mark!" I exclaimed, my voice rising with a mixture of exasperation and my heightened. disbelief.

He shrugged. "Since you're the one who proposed the divorce, you have to pay me a breakup f'e. That's my condition. And mind you," his brows rode up his hairline, "I'm talking about US dollars. If you can't meet my condition, don't even think about bringing up divorce ever again."All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

My jaw dropped as I gaped at him. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. How petty could he be? "But Mark, that's absurd! You know I can't afford to give you that kind of money. You don't even need it. Your weekly revenue is way more than that."

How did he expect me to come by that huge amount of money if he didn't know that I co owned Luxe and Atelier?

He folded his arms across his chest, unmoved by my protests. "That's not my problem, Sydney. You wanted the divorce, now you have to deal with the consequence that is a million dollars."

I felt a surge of frustration and anger rise within me as he kept repeating the amount he wanted me to pay to him. "You're being completely unreasonable, Mark. This is unfair!"

"And it is fair that you're divorcing me without prior notice or reasonable excuse," he raised a perfectly arched brow.

"I didn't know I had to inform you eons before I file for a divorce," I retorted, my body taut with irritation.

He shrugged in that nonchalant way again, his expression indifferent. "You don't just wake up one morning, leave the house, and send me divorce papers he reiterated, his tone lacking any form of remorse or understanding.

"I told you before 1-left!" I exclaimed, frustration bubbling up inside me. Oh God. This man was driving me nuts with his dismissive attitude.

He shrugged again, his lips twitching into a sardonic smile, a flash of amusement dancing in his eyes. "I

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had thought you were joking. Or just exercising your newfound courage or something," he remarked, his tone dripping with condescension.

Wow! I gaped at him, incredulous at his audacity. "This is utter extortion, Mark!" I exclaimed, my voice trembling with anger.

But he remained unfazed, shrugging nonchalantly as if my outrage was just a minor inconvenience. "Call it what you want," he retorted, his tone dismissive. "But those are my terms. Take it or leave it," he concluded, his words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

I clenched my fists and my mind raced with disbelief and indignation.

A million dollars!

Though I had been away from the company for three years, the financial statements I had looked through when I resumed were very impressive. With those statements, it would be pretty easy to come up with such an amount but it was unfair. It was unfair to Grace. She had been toiling for the companies while I rotted away in a forsaken marriage. It would be unfair to just come one day and waltz away with a million dollars. I doubted if Grace had ever even withdrawn that much from the businesses.

"Can we negotiate a lower price?" I tried to reason with him, my voice slightly cajoling, hoping to appeal to whatever humanity was left in him. "Say eight hundred thousand dollars?"

He sneered and dipped his hands in his pockets, his posture exuding arrogance. "I'm a billionaire. You know it, and you even said it yourself just now," he scoffed. "The title of being my wife is worth far more than a million dollars. I want a million dollars, not a penny less."

"I could take this to court, you know," I gritted out, meeting his gaze head-on, hoping to turn the tables and save myself a few thousand dollars.

He opened his arms wide, his smirk widening. "Be my guest, love," he taunted, his confidence oozing." Let's take this to court."

I bit my lip, my mind racing as I weighed my options. It wouldn't really be wise to take this to court. For all I knew, since I initiated the divorce process, the judge might end up ordering me to pay more if, after his investigation, he got a whiff that I co-owned Luxe and Atelier. Besides, Mark would obviously have more connections to turn the case to his advantage. My heart sank at the realization that my escape plan might backfire eventually.