Billionaire CEO: Sweety, Don't Divorce Me!

Edward entered her number and began typing a message, his expression thoughtful. He considered being completely direct.

He had messed up the night before-had too much to drink and ended up with someone else. That was on him, no excuses. He figured if she didn't want a divorce, she would remain his wife. But if she did, he would make sure she was taken care of.

Sitting across from him, William glanced over and smiled faintly, thinking Edward might finally be softening.

"About time you reached out to your wife. The two of you got married two years ago, and then you took off overseas almost immediately. Not exactly a honeymoon phase. Now that you're back, you're still buried in work," William remarked lightly. "Want me to pick out a gift in advance?"

Edward's fingers stilled over the screen. His sharp eyebrows drew together.

Given how fractured things were between them, showing up in person was the least he could do.

After a moment's hesitation, he deleted the entire message.

"Pick out a gift," he said flatly.

William smiled understandingly. "Consider it done."

--

The entire day, Alice tried to focus on work, but her mind kept wandering.

She had joined GrandVerse right out of university. From the beginning, she knew who Edward was-the golden boy of the Hawthorne family and the undisputed leader of GrandVerse.

His reputation preceded him: shrewd, ambitious, with an uncanny instinct for investments. Every industry he touched seemed to turn to gold.

Ironically, two years ago, just as she started, he was transferred overseas. She never had the chance to meet him-not until last week, when he returned and she was promoted to senior secretary. That was when their paths finally crossed.

He was every bit as impressive in person-the youngest and most capable executive she'd ever worked for. He made her believe true talent could shine through even the stuffiest corporate environments.

He was someone she deeply admired professionally. But now. this had happened. Just when she thought she could learn and grow under his leadership, everything had become complicated.

From the way he spoke earlier, it seemed he truly cared for his wife. She could only hope she hadn't damaged their relationship. She never wanted to be that woman.

--

As the workday ended, heavy rain began to pour outside. Just as Alice was heading downstairs, her phone buzzed with a new message.

It was from her legally wedded husband.

"Who is this?"

She froze, staring at the screen. Her heart sank.

He hadn't even saved her number.

Taking a deep breath, she gripped her phone and typed slowly, carefully:

"This is your wife-the one who signed the marriage license with you two years ago. Do you have time to return to the country? I need to talk to you."

But almost immediately, she sent a second message:

"I'm sorry. I had too much to drink a few days ago and made a mistake. It wasn't intentional, but I was unfaithful. I'm truly sorry. If you have time, let's proceed with the divorce."

Once the messages were sent, she felt a strange sense of relief. Now, all she could do was wait.

What she really wanted, if she was honest, was for him to call.

She wasn't brave enough to dial herself, but if he called-even if he yelled-maybe some of this guilt would ease.

--

Meanwhile, in the underground parking garage, a black Bentley glided smoothly out into the rain.

Through the narrowly cracked rear window, a glimpse of an strikingly handsome face appeared for just an instant.

In the driver's seat, William looked conflicted-an expression difficult to describe.

He'd received three texts today, all from the same unknown number.

The first one read: "When are you coming back? Can we meet? I've got something to talk to you about."

Assuming it was someone whose number he hadn't saved, William replied asking who it was.

To his surprise, the person texted back twice-claiming to be his wife, saying she'd cheated after drinking and now wanted a divorce out of guilt.

William was speechless. He didn't even have a girlfriend-where would a wife come from? And now he was being dumped over infidelity? Unbelievable.

Clearly, some poor woman had messed up and sent the messages to the wrong person. But honestly, not even having your own husband's number saved? That was next-level chaos.

He shook his head, glancing in the rearview mirror at the man in the back seat.

Edward had always carried an untouchable aura-elegant, detached, the kind of person people admired from a distance but rarely dared approach.

"Mr. Hawthorne, shall we head to the villa now?"

The villa belonged to Edward. He had given it to his wife after they married.

Edward glanced down at the report in his hands. "Yes."

William nodded and began to drive. Soft music filled the car-Edward's usual track, "All I Wished For."

But today, Edward looked up slightly, his brow furrowing.

Was it just him, or did the singer's voice sound faintly familiar-almost like that of his secretary?

--

Soon, the car entered a quiet, upscale neighborhood filled with standalone villas.

When the car stopped, Edward stepped out alone. He walked up to the villa's front door and rang the bell.

He waited, but there was no response. The house was completely silent. He took a few steps closer, peered inside, then pulled out a bronze key and unlocked the door.

It was already dark outside. Inside, the villa was pitch black.

He turned on the lights. The entire place was immaculate-perfectly arranged, but eerily lifeless. Even the plastic covers on the sofa remained undisturbed.

His dark eyes narrowed as he stepped into the bedroom and opened the closet.

It was empty, save for a few wooden hangers.

She had never moved in.

His expression unreadable, Edward took out his phone. His long fingers tapped the screen, and he dialed her number.

No one answered. Eventually, the call went to voicemail. His brows drew together as he let out a quiet breath and turned back toward the car.

"Find out where she's living now."

"She doesn't live here?" William looked stunned. Turning down a villa like this? That didn't sound like the woman he thought he knew.

Noticing Edward's darkening expression, he quickly added, "Right away, Mr. Hawthorne."

He worked quickly. Soon, an address came back: The Lodge Apartments.

It sounded like an ordinary residential building-nothing special.

The black Bentley soon merged back into the capital's busy evening traffic.

Edward sat with his long legs crossed casually, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, defined forearms. Delicate veins traced beneath his pale skin.

He stared out the window, his face cool and detached.

His phone remained silent.

His mood was clearly souring. Being ignored like this was not something he was accustomed to. No one dared give him the silent treatment.

With a quick motion, he redialed the number.

This time, after several rings, someone finally picked up.

"Hello? Who is this?"

It was a man's voice-deep and unfamiliar.

Edward's eyes narrowed slightly. His voice was calm, his lips barely moving. "I'm looking for Emily Sterling."

The man on the other end sounded unbothered. "Oh, Emily's in the shower. I'll have her call you back when she's done."

.Shower?

Edward's voice dropped, low and cold. "Who the hell are you?"