The Wine Press

I received a pornographic video.
"Do you like this?"
The man speaking in the video is my husband, Mark, whom I haven't seen for several months. He is naked, his shirt and pants scattered on the ground, thrusting forcefully on a woman whose face I can't see, her plump and round breasts bouncing vigorously. I can clearly hear the slapping sounds in the video, mixed with lustful moans and grunts.
"Yes, yes, fuck me hard, baby," the woman screams ecstatically in response.
"You naughty girl!" Mark stands up and flips her over, slapping her buttocks as he speaks. "Stick your ass up!"
The woman giggles, turns around, sways her buttocks, and kneels on the bed.
I feel like someone has poured a bucket of ice water on my head. It's bad enough that my husband is having an affair, but what's worse is that the other woman is my own sister, Bella.
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“I want to get a divorce, Mark,” I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time—even though I knew he'd heard me clearly.
He stared at me with a frown before answering coldly, "It's not up to you! I'm very busy, don't waste my time with such boring topics, or try to attract my attention!"
The last thing I was going to do was argue or bicker with him.
"I will have the lawyer send you the divorce agreement," was all I said, as calmly as I could muster.
He didn't even say another word after that and just went through the door he'd been standing in front of, slamming it harshly behind him. My eyes lingered on the knob of the door a bit absentmindedly before I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and placed it on the table.
I grabbed my suitcase, which I'd already had my things packed in and headed out of the house.

I'm Divorcing with You, Mr Billionaire!

His breathing was harsh as he spoke, "Thank Goodness. I thought you wouldn't be in."


"What is it this time?" I asked numbly. I couldn't even think straight anymore.


"The Luxe vogue logistics and warehousing partners called," he said as he spread out papers on my table. "They've raised their fees so they're demanding a year's fee in advance or we could as well look for other partners."


Grace and I exchanged glances. Grace abruptly stood up. "I can't do this right now. I can't! You'll meet in the conference room," she erupted and stormed out of the door.


I watched her leave. It was insane, all of these things that were happening. It was all happening in a blur that it was hard to keep track.


"Tell them we would pay," I told the accountant. "They should give us some days." Then I muttered under my breath, "this isn't the best time to start sourcing for new partners. Luxe vogue is literally in ruins."


Chapter 61 Chapter Sixty One