I'm Divorcing with You, Mr Billionaire!

EY'S

urst out of me as I took in the

, and our employees handled them. But if the jewe

k's assistant. It included a request in the preferences to make it "stan

It was Mark's assistant who placed the order, but I was sure it was on Mark's

whistling, "Time to ma

reread the last phrase. My grin widene

o mind. "Awww," I cooed, wiping away fake tears trying to escape my

order from Mark. I was ready to make a fortune

in the chair, I couldn't help but notice the clean, expensive pai

long absence, Grace hadn't failed to keep this place running. She efficiently managed the two businesses all by h

the perfect time to also gift her a specially made piece of jewe

es added to the pending orde

plus Mark's and Grace's. The latter jewelry stood out. Then I designed 3D models for all of them. I to

. For a brief second, I reclined in my chair, lip

and strode to the workshop. I received greetings fr

ropriate uniform

t, turned off the machine, let out

mall bottle of water and guzzled almost half of it. It was alread

. I always got carried away

red the design. I smiled, a foreign yet familiar sense of accomplishment w

cted the others. I stacked them safely in

he lights in the control room, then headed for the door, u

stop, and my bag dropped to the floor with a thud as

dne

y legs almost gave out as I

ce. She was grinning widely, excitement radiating off her in waves.

id, taking my hands an

rambled as I locked the door. "And guess what? He's Italian." She lite

hed locking the door. "I came back specifical

ment just because she saw a handsome Italian guy? B

me

ought your outfits, so we won't waste time going

e brought into the air. I didn't think

look good on

front seat, then faced fo

and put on the simple cute tank top she had brought with it. I sprayed the perfum

I put on my black heels from

eon lights slightly obscuring the carefree patron

the music as we stepped in. Grace

outed, "I ca

shout so she could hea

t kept scanni

e." Then I threw my hands in the air. "Italian dude or not," I

the air too. We both danced our way to the dance floor

held mine above my head as I swaye

n a nearby table. Soon, the DJ changed beats, and

nd my face. I could hear Grace's giggles as she w

ves. I let go of all the stiffness I had gotten u

e people had stood aside to watch, shouting w

I couldn't believe I'd let go of al

e to mine. I flinched when she screamed in my ear

hed as she hurrie

on the dance floor as I da

of eyes digging holes in my back. I didn't notice in time that the guy I was dancing

ed when I noticed.

something behind me. The people ar

, I followed their g

ong fingers wrapped around my wrist a

ting to wrench my hands free

op

usly low and calm, sharply con

my eyes clashed with Mark's burni