I Paid His Billion Dollar Debt Only For Him To Divorce Me

Brooks gave me the divorce papers the same day his Great Love finally flew home. “Serena,” he said, his voice flat, devoid of the emotion that used to flicker for me in public. “We’re done. Daphne’s back in the States and she’s been struggling. She needs me.” I looked down at my phone, where I’d been finalizing the details for our tenth anniversary surprise—a weekend trip to the Vineyard and a vintage Patek Philippe he’d mentioned once. Quietly, I hit the ‘delete’ button on the itinerary. “When I spent the first decade of my life helping you pay off a half-billion in inherited debt,” I replied, my voice disturbingly calm, “you swore to me you’d only ever need me.” But Brooks’ eyes held only a consuming guilt—a guilt reserved entirely for Daphne. “I didn’t have a choice then, Ren. Now I’m finally choosing to be honest with myself. I need to live my own life. Please. Just set me free.” I stared at the documents for a long time. Then I signed on the line. The first thing I did after dropping the pen was dial a number. “It’s done,” I said into the phone. “We’re divorced. Does the original dare still stand?” A high-pitched, excited squeal came through the receiver. “God, yes! Absolutely it does!”

I barely hung up before a crowd of people burst through the door of my office. Streamers and champagne corks flew. Pop! Foam sprayed everywhere. “Congratulations, Brooks! You’re finally free from the gold shackles!” They cheered, shoving a woman directly in front of him. It was Daphne Wells—his legendary, unattainable high school sweetheart. Daphne’s voice was thick with the thrill of a long-awaited reunion. “Brooks. I’m home.” Brooks completely lost control, yanking her into a fierce embrace. The room erupted in wolf-whistles. “Look, look! The great American romance! True love always wins!” “If Brooks’ family hadn’t imploded and Daphne hadn’t left for Paris, we wouldn’t have had this awkward decade with the convenient replacement. Some people are just opportunists, trying to capitalize on a man’s ruin.” I didn’t say a word. I simply picked up the nearest glass of whiskey and emptied it. The bitter, raw burn wasn’t pleasant, but it was the flavor of the last ten years. The endless grind of keeping the Ashton Enterprises conglomerate afloat—the frantic corporate dinners, the backroom deals, the time I pushed myself so hard to secure funding I landed in the emergency room with a bleeding ulcer. Daphne leaned back in Brooks’ arms, then turned her attention to me. “Serena Ashton,” she purred, the lack of a formal title deliberate. “I’m truly sorry I had to take Brooks back. If you’re not busy, I’d love to take everyone out tonight to celebrate. We can all be friends.” I set the empty glass down, my eyes locking on hers. “Dinner isn’t necessary.” My voice was low, cutting. “It was ten years of marriage, and I haven’t quite finished digesting the fact that my ex-husband’s low-rent sidepiece broke up my home.” Brooks’ face flushed a deep crimson, his agitation immediate. “Serena, don’t be ridiculous! You signed the agreement! I didn’t cheat! You have no right to insult Daphne!” Daphne placed a soft hand on his chest, a calming gesture for the crowd. “It’s okay, Brooks. Serena, you don’t have to attack me. I know you’re having trouble accepting that Brooks never truly loved you.” She offered a saccharine smile. “Now that I’m back, I’ll make things right. I’ll make sure the half-billion dollars you paid off gets reimbursed.” A fresh wave of applause broke out. “That’s our Daphne! Now that’s devotion!” “Some people think a little dirty money can buy love. Disgusting.” I laughed, looking down at a new text message on my phone. Brooks. Brooks. Daphne had been gone for ten years. She returns and immediately takes him. Didn’t he ever wonder why? But I was tired. I was utterly done. Some lessons, especially the painful, concrete ones, a man just has to learn for himself. “Fine,” I said, shrugging into my coat. “Since Ms. Wells is so principled, I’ll wait for that wire transfer.” Ten years ago, Brooks was a shell of a man, alone and broken. Today, he was surrounded by sycophants. But as I watched the group leave, I was hit by a moment of disorientation. I remembered when his father’s real estate venture collapsed and he took his own life. My family took Brooks in out of loyalty to his father. He was a trembling, tearful boy. “R-Renny,” he’d whispered, his eyes red and swollen. “Hello. I’m Brooks Tanner.” Renny. I hadn’t heard that childhood nickname in years. He was quiet, incredibly eager to please. He’d help the housekeeper, hand me a chilled bottle of water after my morning run, or bring me a mug of hot cocoa when I studied late. I treated him well because of that dependent, shaky delivery of my name. When his father’s creditors came calling, my dad proposed the only way out: an immediate marriage alliance between us. I didn’t object. Brooks, however, panicked. “Renny, I can’t marry you! I… I have someone I love. Her name is Daphne. We were supposed to go to the same university.” My chest had tightened painfully. “Where is she now?” He shook his head, looking lost. “She went abroad. I can’t reach her.” I saw the tremor in his shoulders and softened. “Marry me, Brooks. You won’t have to worry about the debt, and you can still pursue your education. If you find Daphne, and she can fix this mess, I’ll let you go. No strings.” On our wedding night, he slept with his back to me. “Serena. Thank you. But I won’t ever love you. Daphne is my only love.” I lay on my side of the massive king-sized bed, a gulf between us. I thought: It’s fine. Ten years. Twenty years. A lifetime is long. Love will come. I cleared the $500 million debt and launched his career. Everyone in our circle called Brooks the luckiest man in America, blessed with a wife who saw only him. Yet in ten years, he never called me his wife. And even that tentative, dependent nickname—Renny—vanished, along with the desperate boy I’d taken in. My phone vibrated, dragging me back from the memory. I answered, and a drunken howl blasted through the speaker. “Serena! Where the hell are you? Get down here and cover this tab!” I drove to the address. As soon as I walked in, a body cannonballed into my arms. “Cuz! You took forever! Where’s Brooks? Why didn’t he come with you?” My cousin, Max Riley, was visibly wasted. I steadied him before he hit the floor. “He’s not my husband anymore, Max. We divorced.” The alcohol seemed to drain out of Max instantly. “No way! Ren, you’re messing with me! You practically risked your life for him—you almost…” I knew exactly what he was about to say. That year, Brooks was set up by a competitor and tangled in a lawsuit. I’d gone to meet the sharks to negotiate for a crucial piece of evidence that would clear his name. They demanded $30 million. I agreed. Then they changed the deal. They wanted a limb. They said they were sick of rich kids having everything. I took a beating for that piece of evidence. A compound fracture. Doctors said a few more millimeters and I’d have lost the use of my left leg. I hid the true extent of the injury from Brooks. Max was the one who nursed me for three months. I was trying to stop the memory when the room filled with the sound of laughter. Brooks, Daphne, and their posse walked in. One of Brooks’ friends sneered. “Well, look at Serena Ashton. Divorced for barely two hours and she’s already got a new boy toy in tow. Fast work.” Brooks frowned, stepping in. “Don’t be an idiot. That’s her cousin.” “Cousin?” The man winked suggestively at his friends. “We know the routine. Brother > Stepbrother, Stepbrother > Toyboy. We get it, Brooks. Don’t worry.” The vulgarity was nauseating. Before I could speak, Max exploded. He snatched a glass bottle off a table and brandished it, pointing. “Know my mother, you mean? Say one more word about my cousin and I will tear your throat out, you disgusting pig.” Daphne’s face hardened. “It was a joke. We’re all friends here. Take it down a notch.” Max laughed—a furious, derisive sound—and shoved the bottle closer. “Jokes? That garbage spewing from your mouth is a joke? Were you not raised by human beings? Do you have no concept of manners?” “Max!” Brooks roared, his face contorted in anger. “You’ve gone far enough! Apologize to Daphne, right now!” Max stared at Brooks, aghast. “Brooks—no, Serena’s ex! You want me to apologize to her? She insulted me, insulted Ren, and you’re defending her? Who came crying to my cousin to save your family’s ass ten years ago? Now that your Great Love is back, you’re kicking Ren to the curb and acting like a martyr?” Max’s voice rose to a shout. “You’re a despicable opportunist!” Brooks physically stepped in front of Daphne. “I’m divorced from Serena! I only ever loved Daphne! And Serena isn’t even bothered, so why are you so hysterical?” He shot me a look of pure accusation, as if I had orchestrated the entire confrontation. Daphne tucked her hand into the crook of Brooks’ arm and gave me a victorious, challenging look. “Serena, control your cousin. He’s making a fool of himself.” Max was shaking with fury, but he let me pull him away toward the exit. Daphne suddenly blocked our path with her foot. “You insult me, and you think you can just leave?” She lowered her voice to a dangerous hiss. “Kneel. And apologize.” “Kiss my ass!” Max screamed back. The next second, a glass bottle shattered against Max’s skull. Blood immediately streamed down his forehead. Daphne stood there, the broken neck of the bottle in her hand. She feigned surprise and dropped the jagged remains. “Oops. My hand slipped.” Her eyes were cold. “But honestly, your mouth needed a little cleansing. Consider this a wake-up call.” The crowd roared with laughter. Max was pale with pain, but he tried to lunge at her. I gripped his arm, holding him fast. I looked up at Brooks. He wasn’t looking at Max. He was looking at Daphne’s hand, his face etched with concern. “Daphne, are you cut? Did the glass hurt you?” Max, bleeding profusely, might as well have been furniture. “Brooks!” I finally snapped. “Max has been calling you ‘Cuz’ for ten years. Do you have a heart?” Brooks glanced at Max, annoyed. “Stop being dramatic. It’s a shallow cut. Get a few stitches and you’ll be fine. He brought it on himself by insulting Daphne.” Without another word, I grabbed a bottle of red wine off the table. CRASH. The bottle shattered against the marble table edge, leaving me holding the jagged neck, a razor-sharp weapon. Daphne didn’t even have time to react before I was in front of her. The sharp point of the glass rested against her carotid artery. “Serena! You’re insane!” Brooks shrieked, charging at me, trying to pull me away. “You let go of Daphne! Your cousin started it! Are you going to murder her over a scratch?” I turned my head, my gaze chilling him instantly. “Get out.” I said the word slowly, with absolute finality. I pressed the glass just a fraction deeper. Brooks panicked. “Serena! Don’t do this! I’ll apologize for her! I’ll pay any medical bill! Max has a scratch, you’re acting like a psychopath! Are you trying to blackmail me into coming back? You’re pathetic, Serena. You’re utterly vile!” But watching Max, pale and in pain, still trying to protect me, I realized the full extent of Brooks’ moral decay. He truly repulsed me. “What makes you think you’re so important?” I yelled, giving them all a target. “I have a fiancé now. Why would I want a divorced, leeching opportunist like you?” While I shouted, the men in the group managed to pry Daphne from my grasp. They immediately surrounded me, roaring with contemptuous laughter. “Serena, did you develop a delusion disorder after the divorce?” “A fiancé? Who did you call, a random gigolo off the street?” Brooks shoved his way to the front, shielding Daphne, his face a mask of scorn. “Stop the lies! You can’t love anyone but me! You’re just saying this to provoke me, to make me regret it! Serena, stop acting like a child. Who else would ever want you?” The crowd waited for my humiliation. But the next second, a man flanked by a phalanx of security guards strode into the room. “I do.” The familiar, deep voice made Brooks swing around. When he saw the man’s face, Brooks went dead silent.