Hell Hath no fury like a billionaire's Ex

The peaceful rhythm of my breath carried me through the last pose of my morning yoga routine. Sixteen weeks into my pregnancy, yoga had become my lifeline—a brief, fragile escape from the chaos of my reality.

Then, the doorbell rang, slicing through the calm like a knife. My eyes shot open, a sense of foreboding settling in my chest.

I wiped my hands on my leggings and walked to the door, my heart racing. A courier stood there, a thick manila envelope clutched in his hand.

"Diane Ashton?" he asked, barely glancing up from his clipboard.

"Yes," I said, my voice tighter than I intended.

"Sign here."

I scribbled my name, my hands trembling slightly as I took the envelope. The return address made my blood run cold—Richard Holbrook, Liam's high-powered lawyer.

"Joan?" I called, closing the door with a thud. My voice wavered as I stepped into the living room. "It's here."

Joan emerged from her home office, her sharp eyes narrowing at the sight of the envelope. "Let's open it together," she said, her voice calm but serious.

I tore it open, my pulse roaring in my ears. My eyes scanned the papers, and with each word, my stomach twisted tighter.

"He wants everything," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "The house. The cars. Even my shares in the company I helped build." My throat tightened. "According to this prenup, I walk away with nothing."

Joan's jaw clenched. "It's a standard intimidation tactic. But we can fight this, Diane. We have evidence of Liam's infidelity. The prenup isn't unbreakable. "We can challenge it on the grounds of Liam's infidelity. We've got a fighting chance here."

A flicker of hope sparked in my chest, but it was quickly drowned out by fear.

"He won't stop," I said. "He'll ruin me if he can."

Joan put a hand on my shoulder, her expression fierce. "Then we won't stop either. This isn't over."

Over the next few weeks, Joan and I worked tirelessly to build our case. We pored over financial documents, gathered all printed emails, photos and text messages we already have that proved Liam's infidelity, and prepared our strategy for challenging the prenup.

One evening, as we sat in her home office surrounded by stacks of papers, Joan turned to me with a worried expression. "Diane, are you sure you're okay? All this stress can't be good for the babies."

I sighed, my hand resting on my slightly swollen belly. At sixteen weeks, I was surprised my body was showing my bump at all.

"I don't have a choice, Joan. If I don't fight now, I'll have nothing to give these babies when they're born."

Joan squeezed my hand. "I know. I just worry about you. Promise me you'll tell me if it gets to be too much?"

I nodded, grateful for her concern. "I promise."

----

The courthouse was colder than I expected, the air thick with tension and whispered conversations. Joan and I walked through security, my pulse pounding with each step.

I had chosen a loose blouse to hide my growing bump, but I still felt exposed. Vulnerable.

Then I saw him. Liam stood near the courtroom doors, his polished suit tailored to perfection. His eyes locked on mine, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stop.

The man I had once loved—the man I thought I knew—stared back at me with nothing but cold detachment.

My stomach churned. How had I ever believed he loved me?

"Eyes forward," Joan murmured, guiding me past him. "Don't give him the satisfaction."

Inside the courtroom, my hands clenched in my lap as Richard Holbrook stood to address the judge. His voice was smooth, confident. Too confident.

"Your Honor, this prenuptial agreement was entered into willingly and in good faith. The petitioner now seeks to invalidate it under baseless claims, simply because she regrets the terms."

My jaw tightened. Joan rose to her feet, her presence commanding the room.

"Your Honor, we contend that the prenup is unconscionable and that Mr. Ashton's infidelity constitutes a material breach of the agreement's good faith clause. We have evidence—emails, photographs, and text messages—that we are prepared to present."

I held my breath, watching the judge's expression for any sign of which way he leaned. He remained unreadable.

"I'll take the matter under advisement," the judge said at last. "A written ruling will be issued within the week."

The room began to blur as we stood to leave. The first battle was over, but it felt like we'd barely scratched the surface of the war ahead.

Liam caught up to us in the hallway, his eyes dark with warning. "Don't do this, Diane. You can't win."

A surge of defiance bubbled up inside me. "You don't know me as well as you think, Liam. If you believe I'll just roll over, you're in for a surprise."

Before he could respond, Joan stepped between us. "Mr. Ashton, if you have anything else to say, you can direct it through me."

She led me away, her grip firm but comforting. For the first time in weeks, I felt something unfamiliar—hope.

---

The week that followed was an endless blur of work, restless nights, and waiting. I threw myself into preparation, grateful for the distraction, but no amount of focus could stop the clock from ticking.

Then, on a gray Friday afternoon, Joan called me into her office.

"The judge ruled in our favor," she said, her smile triumphant. "He's denying the motion to enforce the prenup and allowing our challenge to move forward."

Relief washed over me in waves, and I exhaled the breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"What does that mean?" I asked, still processing.

"It means we've won the first battle. The prenup is still in play, but the judge believes there's enough doubt about its fairness to justify a full hearing. This gives us leverage. Liam might be willing to negotiate now."

As her words sank in, I felt a flutter in my belly—a small kick, barely there but unmistakable.

"Looks like the babies agree," Joan said with a grin.

I rested my hand on my belly, overwhelmed with emotion. "There's something else we need to talk about," Joan added, her tone softening. "We're going to have to disclose your pregnancy soon. It's relevant to the case."

I nodded slowly. "I've been thinking about that, but I'm not ready yet. Not until I know how to handle it."

Joan gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Take your time. Just know that when you're ready, I'll be right here."

I smiled, feeling stronger than I had in weeks. "Thank you, Joan. For everything."

"Ready for the next storm?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.

I squared my shoulders, determination tightening in my chest. "Bring it on."