Divorced and Became a Billionaire: Now Her Ex-Husband Chases Her

The lavish Thompson Elite Mansion was silent, with only the whispering echoes of recent passions still resonating through its hallways. In a dimly lit room, Aiden Carter, shirtless and visibly irritated, thumbed through his phone.

"I don't get why you always need so much," Aiden remarked, the ice in his voice evident.

Claire West, resting underneath the tangled sheets, a mixture of fatigue and contentment evident on her face, shot him a fleeting glance. "Times are tough."

Aiden stared at her for a moment, his cool demeanor contrasting with the warmth of their earlier embrace. He then sent a message before casting the phone aside. The tension between them was palpable. Claire's heart raced, anticipating his next move. As if to punish and reward her simultaneously, he leaned in for another intimate moment, his eyes conveying a message of their own: This was the last of such generous acts.

When dawn painted the room in golden hues, Claire woke with a languor, every muscle in her body protesting against movement. She gingerly turned to find a card on the bedside table. Grabbing her phone, an unread message awaited her: "There's half a million in the card—enough to tide you over for the month. Don't flatter yourself into thinking you're worth more. You won't see another dime!" The words were chilling, but in Claire's world, she felt they were deserved. A wry smile appeared on her lips as she tucked the card into her bag and started her day.

Five minutes on foot brought her to the towering office building. She boarded the elevator, making her way directly to the executive floor. Taking her seat outside the CEO's office, Claire began her day's duties. By nine, she gently rapped on Aiden's door before entering.

"Mr. Carter," she began, her voice steady and professional, "There are a few documents awaiting your review. At ten, you have an executive meeting. Lunch with CEO Parker is set for noon, and Mr. Mitchell has requested your time at two."

Aiden lifted his gaze to meet hers, his expression unreadable. "Understood," he replied tersely, the frostiness unmistakable. "You may leave now."

The weight of their unspoken dynamics hung heavily in the room as Claire nodded and exited. The day had only just begun.

Claire West returned to her desk, immersing herself in the repetitive rhythm of daily tasks. As evening approached, she packed her things like all other employees, preparing to leave the hustle behind.

Making a brief stop at home, Claire handed the bank card with the half-million to her mother, Emily West. "This is the last of what I could borrow this month, Mom," she whispered.

"Use it to settle his gambling debts," she instructed, her voice teetering on desperation. "Next month, after my paycheck, I'll cover Nathan's school fees and medical bills. Then, we'll find a place to start a small business. But please, don't give any more money to him."

Emily nodded vigorously in agreement. Twenty-two years ago, Emily had Claire out of wedlock, the identity of the father remaining a mystery. When Claire was ten, Emily married Zack Thompson, a former chef. Together, they started a small restaurant. Zack, a kind and considerate man, never treated Claire any differently than his biological son Nathan. If anything, he often seemed to favor Claire. It was a modest life, but filled with love and warmth.

But four years ago, things took a dark turn.

Barely having set foot back in her apartment, Claire's phone rang, displaying her mother's frantic call. "Claire, they've taken your dad. He's gambled again, borrowing from loan sharks. It's 800,000! If we don't pay back, they've threatened to cut off his fingers..." Emily's voice was choked with tears.

"Claire, you're the only one who can save him. We need to gather 800,000 to get him back."

This wasn't the first time.

For the past four years, Claire had been bailing Zack out, settling his mounting debts. Her voice firm yet detached, Claire replied, "I'm out of money, Mom."

"Claire, you're the Chief Secretary at The Carter Group! You've been bringing so much money home for years. You can't possibly be broke..."

Claire's laughter was bitter, each chuckle cut short by sobs. "Mom," she whispered, her voice trembling, "perhaps you've realized how I've been obtaining the money."

After a heart-wrenching silence, Emily apologized, "I'm so sorry, Claire..."

Faced with her mother's sobs and pleas, Claire's resolve wavered. The ties of family, as always, proved too powerful to resist. "I'll find a way to gather another 300,000. He won't be harmed," she assured, though uncertainty gnawed at her.

But that evening, Aiden Carter was conspicuously absent.

Desperation pushing her, Claire dialed Aiden's number. It was answered swiftly, his voice cold enough to freeze blood. "What do you want?" he asked icily.

Claire hesitated, her heart heavy with unspoken burdens.

Just as she was about to plead with him for an additional $300,000, Claire overheard a sultry female voice from Aiden's end of the line, beckoning him over. "Aiden, come here." "Sure," he replied gently, warmth evident in his voice. Without another word to Claire, he hung up abruptly.

The following day, despite Aiden's firm stance on not discussing personal matters at work, the distressing call from Claire's mother forced her hand. By the afternoon, Emily's tearful voice recounted the dismal state of her husband, battered and starved by the moneylenders. Taking a deep breath, Claire approached the intimidating double doors of Aiden's office. With hesitation written all over her face, she knocked.

Standing before him, she held her head low, her voice barely above a whisper, "Mr. Carter, could you lend me another $300,000?"

Aiden looked up, his eyes filled with a chilling disdain. "Lend? How much have you taken from me? How many times have you repaid it? And with what, exactly?"

She remained silent, eyes downturned.

A scoff escaped Aiden's lips. "Claire, you're not worth that much."

Struggling with her own emotions, she murmured, "I found a bag I like, it costs $300,000."

Aiden's piercing gaze locked onto hers. "How many bags have you bought since you've been with me? All knockoffs, not even worthy of being a second-rate imitation. Do you ever speak the truth?"

She stared back, startled that he knew. Instead of defending herself, she simply uttered, "I need the money."

His eyebrows raised mockingly, "One night, worth $500,000?"

Aiden's frosty tone grew even colder. "Didn't I make myself clear? We don't discuss personal matters here, and certainly not your price tag."

That night, despite her mother's urgent calls for the money, Aiden was nowhere to be found. Tired and weary, Claire prepared a meal, hoping to sway Aiden with his favorite dishes. However, as the hours ticked by, there was no sign of him.

Finally, at 11 PM, the door swung open to reveal an inebriated Aiden, reeking of alcohol and contempt. He sneered at the spread on the table, "Going this low for money? You're pathetically desperate."

Without a word, Claire stepped forward, gently helping him out of his jacket, her voice softening, "You've had a lot to drink. Did you eat? I made your favorite dishes."

"I'll whip up some soup to help sober you up," she offered.

Aiden's sharp voice cut her off, "No need."

As the atmosphere grew tense, it became clear that Aiden had no intention of being gentle or kind to her that night.

His deep-set eyes, dark and menacing, bore into her. "You want the 300,000? Make me happy, and it's yours," Aiden sneered.

Claire West remained silent, her heartbeat echoing in her ears.

"Why are you hesitating?" Aiden continued. "Just see how much you can get out of me. Show me what you've got."

Claire, in her desperation and resignation, initiated an intimate moment with Aiden, but it was evident that he had no intentions of treating her with tenderness or respect. He seemed almost annoyed at her audacity, even though she was clearly trying to appease him.

After the passionate storm subsided, Aiden barely spared her another glance. He retreated to the bathroom, emerged dressed in fresh attire, and prepared to leave. Before exiting, he casually tossed a bank card towards Claire. "Next time you want money," he coldly remarked, "try harder. Learn some skills to truly please me."

With a loud slam, the door shut behind him, leaving a devastated Claire in the hollow echo of the apartment. A chill draft blew in from the open window, and tears flowed down her face as she sank into the sofa. Each silent tear told a story of grief and despair.

The following day, with the promised money, Claire and her mother released a battered Zack Thompson. Bruised, emaciated from days without food, and reeking of sour sweat, Zack appeared a shadow of his former self.

"Claire, I'm sorry," Zack mumbled, avoiding his daughter's eyes. "I couldn't control myself. I thought I had a winning streak. I wanted to settle our debts, give your mother and brother a better life..."

Claire's eyes flashed with a cold rage. "This is the last time," she warned. "Since your addiction began, everything we ever had is gone. Four years, Dad! Four years of broken promises and pledges."

Zack's spiral into alcoholism and gambling had torn their family apart. The kind husband and loving father was long lost, replaced by a man who had forgotten his own humanity.

"You've ruined me," Claire's voice wavered. "If you don't change, you'll destroy Mom and Nathan too."

As Zack slapped himself in remorse, Claire added, "Remember this. If you gamble again, whatever debt you incur, whatever consequence you face, even if they threaten your life, it's on you. Even if you die, I won't intervene."

With that, Claire turned away, leaving her distressed mother berating Zack. "You bastard! You almost killed Claire," Emily cried.

Hot tears slid down Claire's cheeks as she left, sealing her promise. She wouldn't save Zack again.

Returning to work, Claire was met with another challenge. In the afternoon, as Aiden Carter was away on business, his mother, Eleanor Carter, entered the company with an elegantly dressed young woman by her side.