Luxury Isn’t for Homewreckers. Love Isn’t for Cheaters - Chapter 3: Chapter 3

But instead of just saying it—he found a noble excuse to make me the problem.
I got out of the car without a word, watching that black Maybach disappear from sight.
I'd given him a chance. But he didn’t want them.
I pulled out my phone and called Nina.
"Nina,draft me a divorce agreement."
I wouldn't bring up divorce with Leo unless I absolutely had to.
The Hartwells and Ansons went way back—Leo and I had been childhood sweethearts.
It's just that he went abroad for college and grad school, so we lost touch for about ten years.
We reconnected at a dinner party where our families were arranging our engagement.
He was polished, poised—charming enough to silence even the most judgmental family members, the kind who could sniff out a flaw from across the room.
And me? All these years, when I wasn't running the company, I'd been hitting up clubs and hooking up with male models to blow off steam.
I figured after all those years apart, things would be awkward between us.
But in private, he wasn’t just Leo Hartwell the corporate golden boy.
He was warm. Witty. Unexpectedly disarming.
Something old sparked again between us.
And before long, we were engaged.
After the wedding, we became shareholders in each other's companies. Hartwell Corp and Anson Enterprises merged like never before.
Which, of course, made divorce a logistical nightmare.
Back home, I did my nighttime routine, had some warm milk, and got ready for bed.
My phone buzzed with a goodnight text from Leo.
Complete with a cute kissing emoji.
[Goodnight, Noelle, love you.]
Even when we're fighting, he still does all the right things.
Right outside the building, I was nearly knocked over by some jittery twenty-something with badly bleached hair, fake designer shades, and the chaotic energy of someone two days behind on rent.
My Hermès Himalaya bag hit the pavement hard, scraping off a chunk of leather.
His latte arced through the air like a damn stunt shot, splashing straight onto the hem of my cream cashmere coat.
The two security guards by the entrance saw what happened and came running over.
They were yelling at the guy to watch where he was going.
He looked completely panicked,scrambling to pick up my bag and hand it back to me, pulling out tissues to dab at the stains on my coat.
When he couldn't get them out, he literally dropped to his knees begging for forgiveness.
Middle of winter, and he's wearing just this thin jacket and sunglasses that couldn't quite hide the bruising around his eyes.
I ignored the stained coat, frowning as I tenderly examined the scraped leather on my bag.
That's exactly when Leo showed up.
Hartwell Corp and Anson Enterprises are just across the street from each other.
He stood there watching from the other side, his expression cold and stern.
For the first time, I saw disgust in his eyes.
Probably thought my whole high-and-mighty act was just me being a bully again.
I didn't bother explaining his misunderstanding. I stepped back, waved off the approaching security guards, and grabbed the guy's arm to pull him up off the ground.
"I don't know what kind of trouble you're in, but a man's got his pride. You can lose everything else, but not that—it's the only thing that's truly yours!"
The guy kept cleaning up the mess on the ground while apologizing and thanking me over and over.
Finally, he ran off in a panic.
There was a strange little smile on his lips—calculated, unreadable.