Divorce by Mistake: A Billionaire's Desperate Second Chance

I anxiously tapped my fingers on my phone screen while sitting on the edge of my couch.

Sleeping last night was a total joke.

Whenever I closed my eyes, I could hear my front door knob jingling and feel a cold sensation creeping up my spine. Someone had tried to enter.

The authorities arrived but did not discover any signs of forced entry.

They had characterized it as simply a regular evening in New York.

Nevertheless, I knew the information that had been discussed.

I was still legally wed to Max—still connected to a man I had tried so hard to leave behind, a man who had vanished, leaving me amid his chaos.

My thoughts were swirling with legal issues, unfinished signatures, and the possibility that Max's risky "friends" could be closer than I thought.

I was unwilling to accept it, but the fright from last night made it impossible to ignore.

My phone vibrating in my hand suddenly brought me back to reality from my reverie. With an unknown number.

My stomach churns, and feeling uncertainty creeping up my back. I was unwilling to respond.

I had already disregarded some unfamiliar numbers, convincing myself they were merely spam, but there was something about this particular one that seemed unique.

Despite my instincts telling me otherwise, I went ahead and swiped to pick up.

"Is anyone there?" I succeeded, my voice emerging with tension and doubt.

There was a brief moment of silence that caused my anxiety to spike.

"Lila," he whispered.

I had a cardiac arrest.

That voice was familiar to me. The voice that used to bring me comfort now keeps me awake at night and fills me with regret.

I was unable to move, as my mind fought to keep pace.

Max had disappeared for one week. Everyone had been looking for him, and there he was, summoning me as if he had just gone out for a cup of coffee. I became so angry that it overwhelmed any feeling of surprise.

"Lila, I understand that I'm the least desired person to contact," he stated, his voice carrying a hint of an unknown emotion. However, I must meet with you. "It holds significant importance."

I held on to the phone more firmly, feeling anger rising. After enduring all he had done to me — the deceit, the control, the legal chaos he had caused me — he simply phones me?

"Max," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. "What the hell is going on?

You disappear for a week, make everyone think you're dead, and now you just… call me?

Do you even understand what's been happening?"

"I will clarify everything," he stated, his manner surprisingly composed. However, not through a telephone call.

Would it be possible for us to have a meeting? Kindly do so.

"I have no time for games, Max," I said angrily.

However, I must meet with you. Please allow me the opportunity to clarify.

Before I could say anything.

"I'll make my way to you," he responded promptly as if he had been anticipating it. "Allow me ten minutes."

I felt my heart rate increase. "Are you… are you located in the city?"

"I've been nearby the entire time," he confessed, with a touch of something resembling shame in his tone.

I felt a new surge of rage. Has he been close by? As I've been struggling with my inner turmoil, stressing out, handling the consequences of his actions? Was he recently presented here?

"Wait ten minutes, Lila," he interrupted, ending the call before I could reply.

I put down the phone, gazing at the empty screen, attempting to comprehend the recent event.

Max had remained here the entire time. Are you observing? Concealing oneself?

A combination of anger and dread made my stomach churn. He had allowed everyone to be concerned about him, allowed "me" to be concerned about him, and now he was appearing as if it weren't a big deal.

I walked back and forth in my living room, thinking quickly about different possibilities. This might be a set-up.

A form of entertainment. Or… it may be my sole chance of uncovering the truth, of ultimately putting an end to this chapter of my life.

Exactly nine minutes later. Knock—knock. A knock on my door.

I was frozen, my heart jumping to my throat. I compelled myself to inhale deeply, attempting to calm my trembling hands.

This time, the knock was composed and steady.

Gradually, I made my way towards the door, every step filled with anxiety. My hand shook as I tried to grasp the lock.

I needed an answer, nothing more.

I open the door.

And that's where he was.

Max, standing in the hallway, appeared entirely different from the man I remembered. He had stubble on his face, his clothes were wrinkled, and his complexion was pale and tired.

A spooky expression filled his eyes — a hint of something unfamiliar to me.

Feeling sorry? Is there any fear? I was unable to discern. He appeared as though he had been awake for days on end.

"Lila," he murmured, cautiously approaching the subject, his eyes quickly scanning me as though he anticipated me rejecting him by closing the door.

I briefly thought about it.

"Enter," I whispered, moving out of the way, my tone chillier than I had meant.

He walked in at a leisurely pace, his gaze sweeping across the room, pausing on the simple furniture, the secondhand pieces that defined my fresh start.

I could barely detect the judgment crossing his face, but he promptly concealed it.

There was a quiet distance between us as he stood awkwardly in the center of my living room, appearing as misplaced as a phantom.

And perhaps that was precisely who he was — a specter from a past I believed I had moved on from.

"I recall you mentioning that you had something to clarify," I interjected while crossing my arms and maintaining a distance. "Begin speaking."

Max ran his fingers through his hair, his body tense. I know you doubt me, but I don't blame you. He started.

However, I have gotten into a difficult situation. Deep trouble.

"I understood as much," I retorted, squinting. James informed me regarding the will, the business transactions, and the individuals you have angered. I fail to comprehend why I am included in any of these matters.

Max grimaced, a surprising expression shown on his face. For a moment, he glanced downward before meeting my eyes, his gaze holding an emotion that was hard for me to identify. "It's more than just the business transactions," he whispered.

"There's… more. The investors I'm dealing with—they need to see stability. They want a team. A married couple. It's part of the deal."

I blinked, my mind struggling to keep up. "A married couple? Max, we're divorced!"

"Not," he quickly responded, speaking in a barely audible voice. "We are not." Do you recall that the divorce was never officially completed? That is the reason I require your assistance.

I felt my heart racing with intense anger. "Do you expect me to act like we're still married?" Speaking the words out loud made them sound ridiculous.

He nodded, his face showing seriousness. Only for a brief moment. Before the agreement is finalized. These investors are not individuals you want to upset, Lila.

If they believe my life is volatile, they will withdraw. If they decide to withdraw… I won't survive.

I looked at him, a mix of shock and anger on my face. "Do you believe I will simply agree to this?" After all the things you made me go through? "Did you involve me in your situation without informing me first?"

"I am aware that I have caused you pain," he admitted, speaking softly and with a hint of sincerity.

However, this isn't solely about myself. If they pursue me, they will also pursue you. I still have a legal bond with you. That causes you to become a focus of attention.

Fear temporarily overshadowed my anger as a shiver ran down my back.

I had already had suspicions, but hearing it confirmed out loud made it tangible. "What reason do I have to trust you?" I inquired, my tone stable yet icy.

What reason do I have to believe whatever you're telling me?

Max maintained eye contact with me, his tired face showing lines of exhaustion. "If we don't work on this together, we will both be in trouble."

The room grew quiet as his words lingered heavily in the air between us.

I felt my heart pounding, struggling with the decision of either shutting the door on him or accepting the possibility that he could be telling the truth.

Soon after, a loud, insistent rap resounded from the door behind where I was standing.

Max's eyes grew wide in alarm, his face paling in response. "He whispered, barely able to be heard, "They have arrived."

My blood ran cold. I froze, staring at the door.