Chapter 1 · My Divorce Destroyed His Empire

On the day of the divorce, I texted my mom: [Got the papers.]

She replied: [Pull the funding.]

That very day, 25 million dollars in funding was frozen, while my ex-husband's family was still raising champagne glasses in the VIP lounge at the airport, celebrating his mistress officially taking my place.

His sister posted on social media, mocking me: [Finally, she's out of our family.]

I replied: [Enjoy yourselves, and remember to pay for your own flight home.]

Three days later, my ex-husband turned up at my door, eyes bloodshot, demanding, "Charlotte, who the hell are you?"

I texted my mom from the courthouse: [Mom, I got the papers.]

She replied almost instantly: [Pull the funding.]

25 million dollars was pulled from Foster Healthcare's accounts that very day.

Meanwhile, my ex-husband, Andrew Foster, and his entire family were busy flying overseas to celebrate his newfound freedom.

What did 25 million dollars mean? It was enough to force a medium-sized medical device company to shut down three product lines.

It was enough to buy an entire floor of an office building in the city center.

And it was enough for my mother to send the entire Andrew family crashing back down to earth after receiving my text saying: [I got the papers.]

[Pull the funding.] She wrote it as casually as if she were asking me whether I wanted spaghetti for dinner.

But I knew exactly what those words meant.

*****

"Window 18, Andrew Foster and Charlotte Evans, please come forward for your divorce proceedings." As soon as the announcement came over the speakers, Andrew stood up.

He was wearing a dark gray suit, the cufflinks I gave him for his birthday on his sleeves.

Now, he didn't even spare me a glance.

He walked toward the window, his eyes glued to his phone, busy texting.

I didn't even have to look to know who he was messaging.

It was Madison Grant, the influencer who got famous just by showing off her picture-perfect life online.

The one everyone in Andrew's circle already considered his new girlfriend.

The staff member collected our paperwork.

She asked, "Are you both here to divorce of your own free will?"

"Yes," Andrew answered without hesitation.

I said, "Yes."

The staff member asked, "Is there any disagreement about the property split?"

He was quick to answer again. "No."

I nodded.

The agreement was drafted by the Foster family's lawyers.

I got a two-bedroom place in the old part of town, valued at 6 million dollars, but there was still 300 thousand dollars left on the mortgage.

I ended up with a four-year-old white sedan, worth less than 30 thousand dollars. And 150 thousand dollars in cash.

Honestly, it didn't sound too shabby.

But I'd paid the down payment on that apartment myself, way before we got married.

The car was a wedding gift from my parents.

As for the 150 thousand dollars, Andrew would spend that much on a designer bag for Madison without even thinking twice.

In the three years we were married, he got two more apartments, a sports car, and 8% of Foster Healthcare's stock options.

None of that was even mentioned in the agreement.

I didn't fight for any of it.

It was not like I couldn't. I just thought it was dirty.

My mom used to tell me, "Charlotte, don't go after scraps from someone else's bowl. I've already set up the real security for you."

Back then, I thought she was trying to make me feel better. But today, I finally understood.

That was the purest kind of love, a mother who could move millions of dollars with a single word, giving her daughter the strongest backing in the world.

The red stamp marked the end. Three years of marriage ended in an instant.

The divorce papers were handed over.

Andrew took his copy and slipped it into his suit pocket.

He finally looked at me and said, "Charlotte, let's part ways peacefully. Let's not cross paths again."

I took my own copy and replied, "Okay."

Andrew looked a little surprised at how quickly I agreed.

He paused for a split second, then turned and walked away.

I watched his back as he left.

Andrew, you would soon realize that when no one cared enough to bother you, that was the scariest thing of all.

Outside the courthouse, Andrew walked straight to the brand-new Maserati parked by the curb.

The car door swung open. Madison leaned out of the car, half her body visible.

She was wearing a light pink dress, and the pearl earrings dangling from her ears were the ones Andrew had bought for her last month.

"Andrew, is it done?" She spoke in a soft, sweet voice.

Andrew smiled right away. "It's done."

He bent down and helped her with her coat.

He said, "Starting today, I'm free. Mom and Emily are already at the airport. We're heading straight there."

Madison turned to me. "Charlotte, you have to take care of yourself now that you're on your own."

She was a year younger than me.

She really emphasized that "Charlotte," as if she were trying to rub it in.

I didn't respond to her. I just said, "Safe travels."

Madison's smile faltered for a moment.

Andrew frowned. "Charlotte, don't be so sarcastic. Madison is trying to be nice."

I slipped the divorce papers into my bag. "Then thank her for me."

Madison leaned back in her seat and whispered, "Andrew, don't argue with her because of me. Today's supposed to be a happy day."

Andrew's tone softened right away. "Whatever you say."

The car drove off.

I stood there and called my mom.

She picked up on the first ring. "Charlotte, you're out?"

I replied, "Yeah."

"Are you upset?"

"No."

I paused for a moment. "Mom, go ahead."

There was a brief silence on the other end.

Then, Mom said, "Alright, go home and wait. I'll handle the rest."

I hung up.

From the moment the stamp hit the paper to the end of that call, it took just four minutes.

And just like that, the Foster family's good days were officially on borrowed time.

I went to the milkshake shop at the corner.

Just as I sat down, my phone started buzzing.

It was my mom's assistant, Zoe Brooks.

She said, "Ms. Evans, Mrs. Evans has given the order. All investments in Foster Healthcare, totaling 25 million dollars, are now being withdrawn.

"The first nine million dollars in working capital has already been pulled out. Foster Healthcare's finance department is trying to reach me.

"Richard Foster himself has called three times, but Mrs. Evans hasn't picked up. The partner bank has received a risk review notice and will be sending people to audit Foster Healthcare first thing tomorrow."

I stared at the words on my screen. I was surprisingly calm.

25 million dollars. To me, that used to sound like an astronomical number.

But for my mom's Greenfield Capital, it was just money she could move around whenever she felt like it.

For Foster Healthcare, though, it was their lifeline.

Chapter 1

On the day of the divorce, I texted my mom: [Got the papers.]

She replied: [Pull the funding.]

His sister posted on social media, mocking me: [Finally, she's out of our family.]

I replied: [Enjoy yourselves, and remember to pay for your own flight home.]

Three days later, my ex-husband turned up at my door, eyes bloodshot, demanding, "Charlotte, who the hell are you?"

I texted my mom from the courthouse: [Mom, I got the papers.]

She replied almost instantly: [Pull the funding.]

25 million dollars was pulled from Foster Healthcare's accounts that very day.

Meanwhile, my ex-husband, Andrew Foster, and his entire family were busy flying overseas to celebrate his newfound freedom.

What did 25 million dollars mean? It was enough to force a medium-sized medical device company to shut down three product lines.

It was enough to buy an entire floor of an office building in the city center.

And it was enough for my mother to send the entire Andrew family crashing back down to earth after receiving my text saying: [I got the papers.]

[Pull the funding.] She wrote it as casually as if she were asking me whether I wanted spaghetti for dinner.

But I knew exactly what those words meant.

*****

"Window 18, Andrew Foster and Charlotte Evans, please come forward for your divorce proceedings." As soon as the announcement came over the speakers, Andrew stood up.

He was wearing a dark gray suit, the cufflinks I gave him for his birthday on his sleeves.

Now, he didn't even spare me a glance.

He walked toward the window, his eyes glued to his phone, busy texting.

I didn't even have to look to know who he was messaging.

It was Madison Grant, the influencer who got famous just by showing off her picture-perfect life online.

The one everyone in Andrew's circle already considered his new girlfriend.

The staff member collected our paperwork.

She asked, "Are you both here to divorce of your own free will?"

"Yes," Andrew answered without hesitation.

I said, "Yes."

The staff member asked, "Is there any disagreement about the property split?"

He was quick to answer again. "No."

I nodded.

The agreement was drafted by the Foster family's lawyers.

I got a two-bedroom place in the old part of town, valued at 6 million dollars, but there was still 300 thousand dollars left on the mortgage.

I ended up with a four-year-old white sedan, worth less than 30 thousand dollars. And 150 thousand dollars in cash.

Honestly, it didn't sound too shabby.

But I'd paid the down payment on that apartment myself, way before we got married.

The car was a wedding gift from my parents.

As for the 150 thousand dollars, Andrew would spend that much on a designer bag for Madison without even thinking twice.

In the three years we were married, he got two more apartments, a sports car, and 8% of Foster Healthcare's stock options.

None of that was even mentioned in the agreement.

I didn't fight for any of it.

It was not like I couldn't. I just thought it was dirty.

My mom used to tell me, "Charlotte, don't go after scraps from someone else's bowl. I've already set up the real security for you."

Back then, I thought she was trying to make me feel better. But today, I finally understood.

That was the purest kind of love, a mother who could move millions of dollars with a single word, giving her daughter the strongest backing in the world.

The red stamp marked the end. Three years of marriage ended in an instant.

The divorce papers were handed over.

Andrew took his copy and slipped it into his suit pocket.

He finally looked at me and said, "Charlotte, let's part ways peacefully. Let's not cross paths again."

I took my own copy and replied, "Okay."

Andrew looked a little surprised at how quickly I agreed.

He paused for a split second, then turned and walked away.

I watched his back as he left.

Andrew, you would soon realize that when no one cared enough to bother you, that was the scariest thing of all.

Outside the courthouse, Andrew walked straight to the brand-new Maserati parked by the curb.

The car door swung open. Madison leaned out of the car, half her body visible.

She was wearing a light pink dress, and the pearl earrings dangling from her ears were the ones Andrew had bought for her last month.

"Andrew, is it done?" She spoke in a soft, sweet voice.

Andrew smiled right away. "It's done."

He bent down and helped her with her coat.

He said, "Starting today, I'm free. Mom and Emily are already at the airport. We're heading straight there."

Madison turned to me. "Charlotte, you have to take care of yourself now that you're on your own."

She was a year younger than me.

She really emphasized that "Charlotte," as if she were trying to rub it in.

I didn't respond to her. I just said, "Safe travels."

Madison's smile faltered for a moment.

Andrew frowned. "Charlotte, don't be so sarcastic. Madison is trying to be nice."

I slipped the divorce papers into my bag. "Then thank her for me."

Madison leaned back in her seat and whispered, "Andrew, don't argue with her because of me. Today's supposed to be a happy day."

Andrew's tone softened right away. "Whatever you say."

The car drove off.

I stood there and called my mom.

She picked up on the first ring. "Charlotte, you're out?"

I replied, "Yeah."

"Are you upset?"

"No."

I paused for a moment. "Mom, go ahead."

There was a brief silence on the other end.

Then, Mom said, "Alright, go home and wait. I'll handle the rest."

I hung up.

From the moment the stamp hit the paper to the end of that call, it took just four minutes.

And just like that, the Foster family's good days were officially on borrowed time.

I went to the milkshake shop at the corner.

Just as I sat down, my phone started buzzing.

It was my mom's assistant, Zoe Brooks.

She said, "Ms. Evans, Mrs. Evans has given the order. All investments in Foster Healthcare, totaling 25 million dollars, are now being withdrawn.

"The first nine million dollars in working capital has already been pulled out. Foster Healthcare's finance department is trying to reach me.

I stared at the words on my screen. I was surprisingly calm.

25 million dollars. To me, that used to sound like an astronomical number.

But for my mom's Greenfield Capital, it was just money she could move around whenever she felt like it.

For Foster Healthcare, though, it was their lifeline.