The Billionaire wants my baby, so does my Ex.

CHAPTER 1: The Divorce

I stared at the steam curling above my coffee cup, willing it to blur the words still echoing in my head.

"I want a divorce, Lexi."

Just like that. No buildup. No warning signs, at least none I hadn’t convinced myself to ignore.

I blinked. My fingers clenched tighter around the mug. The heat stung, but it grounded me. Sort of.

Across the kitchen, Julian scrolled through his phone like he hadn’t just ended three years of marriage with a shrug.

I took a slow breath through my nose. "Julian… what are you talking about?"

He didn’t even glance up.

"Exactly what I said. I want a divorce."

I set the mug down too hard. The clink echoed like a gunshot.

"This doesn’t make sense. We had dinner last night. You kissed me goodbye this morning. And now you’re saying…?"

"Lexi, don’t make this dramatic," he said, finally raising his head. "I’m trying to keep things civil."

"Civil?" My voice cracked. "You end our marriage in the middle of a Wednesday with a textbook line, and I’m the one being dramatic?"

He let out a long, tired sigh, like I was the burden in all this. "I didn’t want to fight. I just wanted to be honest."

I stared at him. "Honest? Since when?"

That’s when the front door opened.

I turned, and froze.

A lady walked into the living room like she owned the place. She had polished black hair spilling over her shoulders, and was probably in her mid-twenties, glowing with some twisted kind of grace and pride.

Julian crossed the room, brushed a kiss over her cheek like he did it everyday. She laughed lightly.

"Who the hell are you? And how dare you just walk into my house?" I snapped.

"Lexi," Julian said flatly, like I was overreacting "this is Sophia. My fiancee."

Sophia smiled. "Hi."

My mouth opened. No sound came out.

She sat on the armrest of the couch and crossed her legs like it was her throne.

Julian turned to me like we were just having coffee talk. "We’ve been seeing each other for almost a year now. I didn’t tell you because… well, obviously."

I let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

"You didn’t tell me because of what, Julian?"

He shrugged. "I didn’t want to deal with the drama."

"Drama? That’s the best you could come up with?"

He didn’t answer.

----------

Two days later, I sat in a divorce lawyer’s office that smelled like leather and endings.

Julian sat across from me with his lawyer. Sophia was there, of course, like this was her victory parade. Rachel... my best friend, my anchor... sat quietly beside me. Her hand rested on my knee in silent support.

Julian’s lawyer slid the papers toward me. "These finalize the divorce. No contest on either side. Sign here."

My pen hovered.

"So that’s it?" I murmured. "Just like that? It’s done?"

Julian didn’t blink. "It’s what’s best for both of us."

I gave a bitter smile. "That easy for you, huh?"

His lawyer cleared his throat. "If you’re ready to proceed, Mrs. Reed..."

"It’s Lexi now," I said, and signed with a sharp stroke.

"Well. That’s that," Julian said.

I looked at him, the storm in my chest rising. "Before I walk out that door, I just want to know why. Why like this? I gave you three years. I was loyal. I gave up my career, my ambition… for you."

He laughed.

The sound was sharp and ugly.

Sophia giggled too, like we were at a stand-up show instead of the funeral of my marriage.

"You want the truth? Fine," Julian said, leaning back like he was about to give a TED Talk. "I’ve been married to you for three years. And I can’t point to a single tangible achievement in my life during that time."

I dug my nails into my palm.

"But this past year? I’ve led a three-star organization to success. I’m still at the helm. You? You’re mediocre at best. You had nothing before me, and without me, you’ll go back to being nothing."

Sophia smirked.

He wasn’t done. Of course he wasn’t.

"I needed a partner. Not someone stuck in a cycle of ‘finding herself.’ Then I met someone who actually has something. Real value. Sophia..."

Rachel cut in, unable to hold it in any longer. "What does she have, Julian? A better body? Shinier hair? Or is it just money?"

For a moment, he had no answer.

Then Sophia tilted her head smugly. "The cosmetic company, 'Sun and Moon Limited'. It’s my family’s company. I’m the heir. Maybe you’ve heard of it?"

Of course I had. Billboards, influencers, even the lipstick in my own purse.

I stood slowly, pushing past the fog rising in my chest.

"Well," I said, my voice thin and trembling, "you win, Julian. I hope you’re happy."

I slid the signed papers across the table and turned to Rachel.

"Let’s go."

Outside, the sun was blinding. It cut across my face like a slap. It felt like stepping into a new world, one that didn’t care who I used to be.

I quickened my pace.

"Lexi! Wait... talk to me!" Rachel called after me.

I didn’t stop.

"Lex, don’t shut down. Come back to my place, okay? I’ll make tea. We’ll scream into pillows like we did in college..."

"I can’t."

She grabbed my arm. "Where are you going?"

"I don’t know."

Her grip softened. "Don’t do this alone."

I looked at her. My eyes were glassy.

"Thank you for being here, Rachel. But I don’t need company right now. I just… I need space."

She hesitated. "If that’s what you want, then okay. I wish I could do more. Just... don’t do anything stupid like trying to harm yourself. That bastard isn't worth it, alright?"

"I won’t even think of it," I whispered, and pulled away.

I got into my car. The second the door shut, the dam broke.

I cried. Ugly, shaking, suffocating sobs that filled the space like floodwater. My hands trembled on the steering wheel. My vision blurred until I couldn’t see anything but the pain.

I don’t remember turning the key, or pulling out. I just… drove.

The sky had turned orange when I finally stopped at a roadside bar called Dixon’s. I parked crooked. I didn’t care.

The bar’s flickering neon sign buzzed like it was too tired to shine, and honestly, I felt the same.

I walked in... face streaked, makeup ruined, dignity dragging behind me like a torn hem.

Inside, it was dim. A few scattered patrons. The low hum of blues from an old jukebox. The warm, comforting smell of whiskey and wood polish.

I slid onto a stool at the far end of the counter and looked at the bartender.

"Something strong." I said.

She didn’t ask questions. Just poured.

I took a long sip. Then another.

And another.

I stared into my glass like it held answers. Like the burn in my throat could somehow cauterize the gaping hole in my chest.

But it didn’t.

It just made me heavier.

I thought about Julian’s face. His voice. Sophia’s smirk. The way five years vanished like a bad investment.

And then I thought about the girl I used to be before marriage, before the compromises, before the slow erosion of my dreams.

The ice rattled in my empty glass.

"Another?" the bartender asked.

I nodded.

She poured.

And as the liquid settled, so did a quiet promise somewhere deep in my bones.

I wouldn’t end here.

Not like this.

But for tonight?

Tonight, I could fall apart.