Divorce by Mistake: A Billionaire's Desperate Second Chance

We took the drive and connected it immediately to the computer, and a video started playing. 

As the video was playing, it showed Max having a heated discussion with a stranger who appeared to be older.

Max's voice on the recording snarled at the person, instructing them to keep away from the situation.

"I said to you, certain secrets cannot remain hidden indefinitely," the man responded.

The video suddenly stopped, creating an eerie silence afterward.

"Who is that person?" I inquired, my voice barely able to be heard.

Max remained silent. Fixing his gaze on me.

"I urged, moving nearer towards Max." "Who is that individual?"

His face paled, looking towards me. "My dad."

The boy played with his toy car for hours in the park.

I gazed at him, the gravity of his words registering.

"Is he your dad?" I repeated, my thoughts spinning. "I believed—"

"Max interrupted, his voice cold, announcing that he was deceased." "At the very least, he was meant to be."

Before I could comprehend this unexpected news.

Shortly after, my phone vibrated. One text illuminated the display.

He is not a safe person to be with.

Confusion is growing deeper in me.

I wished to dispute, but the reasoning was sound. 

The day unfolded like a strange, warped dream. It was time for the meeting.

In the meetings, Max was impeccable — charismatic, self-assured, the ideal businessman. 

It was nearly sufficient to convince me that everything was fine. Occasionally, I noticed him looking at me, his eyes filled with an unreadable expression.

During breaks in the meetings, I politely left and went off to make a phone call.

"I greeted my best friend Anna when she answered the phone call." "I require a favor."

She immediately asked, "What's the matter?" with worry evident in her voice.

I paused. What exactly could I clarify? Simply gaze upon Max on my behalf. Anything new. Business transactions, magazine reports, gossip. "Anything you can discover."

"Lila, are you alright? "You sound—"

"I'm okay," I fibbed, interrupting her. "Anna, I implore you." Just carry out this task on my behalf.

Following a lengthy delay, she gave her consent.

The team completed the project ahead of schedule. They were able to finish it faster than expected.

Afterward, back at the penthouse, Max poured himself a drink and sat on the couch as if he had no worries at all. 

From the kitchen, I observed him closely, analyzing each action he made.

He captured my attention and smiled. "What did you say?"

"I noticed you're composed," I commented, crossing my arms.

"Am I not supposed to?"

Are you suggesting that someone is threatening us? "Negative, you must not."

He let out a sigh and placed his glass on the table. "Lila, I understand." You have no faith in me. If I were in your position, I wouldn't trust either.

"I find that quite unsettling," I stated in a dull tone.

"I'm simply stating," he added, leaning in, "that I'm trying here." I am attempting to keep you safe. To rectify this chaos.

That evening, I felt compelled to return to his office. The secret compartment remained, yet the folder labeled with my name had disappeared. Standard.

Nevertheless, I rummaged through the desk, longing for answers. Later, hidden among some papers, I discovered a picture of Max with a woman I didn't know. 

The woman was breathtaking, with fiery red hair and a smile that appeared overly wise.

I only noticed Max had entered when it was already too late.

"What is it that you are currently engaged in?" His sharp voice pierced the silence as if it were a blade.

I turned around and raised the photo. "Who is that woman?"

He appeared truly shocked for a brief instant. Then his face became more stern.

He said it was not my concern while grabbing the photo from my hand.

"It is!" I yelled as I moved nearer. "If you want me to have trust in you, Max, then refrain from keeping secrets from me. Who is that woman? I asked again.

Max paused, he tightened his hold on the photo, hesitant. She goes by the name of Evelyn. She's…a person I was acquainted with in the past.

"I said bitterly that it wasn't clear." Did she use to be your girlfriend? A companion? "What did you say?"

Running his hand through his hair, he displayed obvious frustration. "It's not simple."

"I find everything about you to be overly complex," I exclaimed. "Begin making it simpler."

He gazed at me for an extended period, and I believed he may finally be honest. Then, he turned around and departed, leaving me by myself in the office.

The cat is sitting on the mat.

The following day, Anna returned my call.

"Her voice was unusually serious, she said Lila." "I discovered something."

"What is that?" I inquired, my heart racing.

"It concerns Max." "And his dad."

I gasped for air. "What do you think of them?"

It appears that his father vanished a long time ago in a suspicious manner. 

Rumors of wrongdoing circulated, but no evidence was found to back them up.

The pieces began falling into position, but the image they created was even more disturbing than I had anticipated.

"Anna went on to say there is additional information." Max has been acquiring properties through a shell corporation. 

A residence belonging to Evelyn Harper is one of them. Do you recognize that name?

The image of the woman with red hair came to my thoughts. "I muttered," I replied in a hushed tone. "It certainly does."

The dog was barking loudly in the backyard. Interrupting our conversation.

After I ended the call, I faced Max immediately upon returning to the penthouse.

"Who is Evelyn Harper?" I insisted, and then I shut the door at my back after entering.

Max suddenly raised his head, narrowing his eyes. "From where did you learn that name?"

"I don't care," I replied, moving closer. The important thing is the reason for hiding her — and for purchasing properties in her name. I said.

He stood, with an inscrutable expression on his face. Lila, you must cease delving into subjects that are beyond your comprehension.

"Then clarify it for me!" I shouted.

The quietness of his silence was overwhelming.

The most recent movie achieved great success, surpassing all expectations.

On that evening, I couldn't get rid of the sensation that someone was observing me. 

The penthouse was extremely silent, the shadows extremely dark. I verified the locks again, yet it made no difference.

Around midnight, I listened to a faint scratching noise originating from the balcony.

I took hold of the closest object, a weighty candleholder, to wield as a weapon as I silently approached the glass doors. I felt my heart beating rapidly, every muscle tense in my body.

Upon pulling back the curtain, I found myself frozen in place.

A person stood on the balcony, with their face obscured by the shadows.

I didn't have an opportunity to respond when the glass broke, and they came at me aggressively.