On the day of the divorce, Boris Lewis gave Ziana Scott 100 million dollars on the condition that she take the child back to remote mountain.
Not long after, the two met again. The ex-wife he identified as poor wore tens of millions of the world's only high-end shoes, and her feet were priceless crystal high-heeled shoes. She brazenly said in front of the camera that she owns a gold mine.
Boris Lewis thought, a mere 100 million, why are you pretending to be rich? I'm worth hundreds of billions and I don't dare to brag like that!
He and the majority of netizens are waiting for the day when she slaps her in the face.
It turns out that her family's gold mines are innumerable, and she is not a poor farm girl, but a genius with super IQ, a master of many sciences, a god-level master, a national chess player, a master of metaphysics...
And the savior who he has been looking for for many years.
In order to get Ziana Scott back, Boris Lewis made love madly.
"I want a kiss!"
"I want a hug!"
"I can't live without my wife!"
The reporter interviewed Ziana Scott, "What is the relationship between Mr. Lewis and you?"
"Oh, he's my simp ex-husband." She smiled swayingly, "but the next one is better. We’ll never get back together."

The Hidden Gold Mine Heiress Divorcee

Edison would never forget her voice for as long as he lived.

Clutching his phone tightly, he couldn't help but say, "Ziana, it's me."

"What's up?" Her tone was distant, lacking the warmth it once had.

Edison pursed his lips, his heart sinking. "Ziana, I… Are you still mad at me?"

Her short response delighted him. "Really? Ziana! You're not mad at me anymore? Do you understand my predicament? I had no choice back then. I couldn't just ignore Winifred. Can you see that?"

"Ziana." Edison's heart skipped a beat and his tone grew heavy. "You're still angry."

"I'm really not." Ziana sneered and explained, "You made your choice, and I made mine. You chose Winifred, and I chose to kick you out. Is there a problem?"

Her words were gentle, but to Edison felt that they were like the first icy winds of winter, slicing him to the bone.

Chapter 427 Capitalizing on the Moment