The Humble Ex-wife Is Now A Brilliant Tycoon

Chapter 1

“Let’s end this marriage.”

That single sentence plunged Christina Jones into the life of a woman unwanted by a wealthy family. Three years of loyalty to her husband, Brendon Dawson, had brought her nothing but heartbreak. On what should have been their joyful third anniversary, Christina had gone to Brendon’s office, eager to invite him out to celebrate. But the moment she stepped inside, her eyes landed on an ornate necklace gleaming atop his desk. She had believed it was meant for her.

However, Brendon noticed her gaze and snapped the jewelry box shut with a careless hand. “Yolanda’s come back. This is her present,” he explained sharply and coldly, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

Everything became painfully clear in that instant. Christina dropped her gaze, her thick-rimmed glasses doing little to mask the ache and disappointment swimming in her eyes.

Brendon’s old flame, Yolanda Mitchell, had returned and reclaimed her place in his heart. Meanwhile, Christina realized that after three years by Brendon’s side, she’d never really belonged there—never held his love, always an outsider, now discarded like something worn out and unnecessary.

Irritation creased Brendon’s brow as his patience frayed watching Christina stand silently, shoulders slumped. “I’ll make sure you’re compensated. Let’s get this over with and move on. Don’t kid yourself into thinking you belong where you never did,” he said coldly and finally.

Honestly, Brendon had never found fault with Christina’s appearance, figure, or how she managed the household. The problem was, she simply bored him. To him, she was flavorless—a meal that left him unsatisfied and easy to set aside. Efficiency at home didn’t make her the woman he desired.

Christina’s silence only deepened the lines on Brendon’s forehead. His tone grew colder. “You’ve got three days to make up your mind. Don’t test my patience—I won’t wait forever.”

Without hesitation, Christina replied, “No need for more time. I’ll sign right now.” Calmly, she picked up the pen and wrote her name on the divorce papers.

Together, they went through the motions at court, and soon every legal formality was behind them. Walking out, Christina felt a heavy ache in her chest, yet a strange sense of freedom crept in as well.

The hope of ever reaching Brendon’s heart was gone—she would no longer waste her life in a one-sided relationship. From now on, there would be no more oscillating between hope and heartbreak, no more self-inflicted wounds from loving a man who couldn’t love her back. The lingering pain had felt like dying by a thousand tiny cuts; it was better to finish it all at once. Now, at last, it was done—irrevocably finished.

A sudden ring from Brendon’s phone broke into Christina’s reverie. He answered, worry quickly sharpening his features. “What? Yolanda’s been hospitalized? I’m on my way!”

Without a farewell, Brendon rushed to his car and sped away, never pausing to offer Christina a ride or even a second glance.

Whenever Yolanda was involved, Brendon would abandon everything, swept up in thoughts of her alone.

As soon as Brendon disappeared, a sleek black-and-red Bugatti rolled to a stop right in front of Christina.

Out hopped Davina Morris, Christina’s closest friend, sporting a bold outfit and a wide, mischievous grin. “Freedom looks good on you, Christina. Congratulations on finally escaping that mess.”

With a flick of her wrist, Davina tossed the keys to Christina, eyes twinkling. “How about something a little crazy tonight?”

Catching the car keys with effortless charm, Christina simply walked over and sat behind the wheel. “Hop in,” she said, no hesitation in her voice.

Davina wasted no time settling into the passenger seat. With a stomp on the accelerator, Christina left the courthouse—and the past—far behind.

The Bugatti tore down Azure Highway, the engine’s roar mixing exhilaration with a sense of release.

“We really ought to hit a bar to celebrate. If you hadn’t held me back, I would’ve uncorked a bottle and doused that jerk with it right then and there,” Davina said, her indignation bubbling over.

“You pick the place. But first, I need a stop at the salon,” Christina answered, her calm belying her need for a bit of reckless fun.

Davina shot her a side glance. “Three years off the radar, and people are still searching for you. When are you going to reclaim your crown and turn the medical world upside down again?”

A shrug was all Christina offered. “Haven’t made any plans yet,” she replied, her voice cool and detached.

A sharp, almost mocking laugh slipped from Davina. “Word is your ex is tearing up the city trying to track the legendary Doctor King down, desperate to save his precious sweetheart. Imagine his face if he ever learns you’re King.”

Not a word left Christina’s lips. She just stared ahead, her expression unreadable.

Meanwhile, Brendon’s car raced through traffic, his nerves raw with worry. He dialed his secretary mid-drive. “Still no progress on King’s whereabouts?”

King’s reputation echoed around the globe—a healer wrapped in legend and secrecy, vanished without a trace for three years. All attempts to locate King had led nowhere. The doctor’s true identity remained a puzzle—no one had ever seen King’s face, nor even confirmed their gender.

The secretary’s voice crackled through the line. “We’ve contacted everyone we know, Mr. Dawson, but King is still missing.”

Brendon’s brow furrowed. “Don’t stop until you find King. I don’t care what it takes!”

“We’ll keep at it!”

Restlessness gnawed at Brendon as he pulled into the hospital’s parking lot and bolted toward the entrance. No matter how high the price, he wouldn’t stop searching for King—Yolanda’s life depended on it.

Chapter 2

In the Vertbrook Bar, Christina slid off her black-rimmed glasses and tucked them into her hands. Without them, her eyes sparkled with mischief and warmth.

Gone was the flat, straight hair she always wore like armor. Now it flowed in waves, framing her face as if she belonged on the cover of a magazine. With that red lipstick and confident glow, she turned heads effortlessly.

She moved like someone who had shed a skin. Whatever plain, quiet version of herself had existed at home, she wasn’t here tonight. Davina leaned in, swirling the straw in her cocktail. “Hey, there’s a shooting match next week. You thinking of signing up?”

“Not a chance,” Christina replied without missing a beat. “It’s been forever. My hands aren’t as steady as they used to be.”

“Come on, who cares?” Davina flashed a teasing grin. “Use it to blow off some steam. Picture Brendon’s face on the bullseye and go full demolition mode.” A low chuckle slipped out as Christina brought her glass to her lips. “That’s tempting.”

“Right?” Davina grinned, her tone rising with excitement. “Oh—and guess who’s going to be there? Dillan. The guy who almost knocked you out four years ago. You bailed, and now he’s been hogging the spotlight ever since.”

Davina didn’t wait for Christina to respond as she added, “And get this—the prize this year is a custom Bugatti. Not a model you can just go out and buy. One of a kind.” She passed her phone to Christina without missing a beat. “Here. Take a look at the competition.”

Christina flipped through the details in seconds. The prize money wasn’t the only thing catching her attention. What really stood out was the twist—contestants would be hidden behind masks and aliases. But whoever came out on top? They’d get to force the others to show their real faces.

“If you enter and win, you have to make Dillan take off his mask. I need to know what that guy looks like!” Davina exclaimed.

“Okay.” Christina gave her wineglass a gentle swirl. The corners of her mouth curled into a teasing grin. “If I show up, I’m not just going to play. I’m going to raise the stakes.”

Davina tilted her head, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “Alright then, tell me—what exactly are you thinking?”

Christina shot Davina a sly grin. “Let everyone know—whoever takes the crown this year gets a personal session with King. No expiry date either. As long as they meet King’s terms, the deal stands.”

Davina nearly spilled her drink. “You’re kidding! If that gets out, people are going to crawl over each other just to sign up. This thing’s about to blow up.”

“I’m heading to the restroom.” Without another word, Christina rose from her seat.

She didn’t get far before a small crowd of men stepped into her path, their swagger loud enough to silence the room.

“Well, look what we’ve got here,” one of them said, grinning. “You look like you could use some company. How about a drink?”

They leered at her, scanning her from head to toe like she was something they could own.

Ice filled Christina’s gaze. Her voice dropped like a warning. “Move.”

That only seemed to encourage them. “Feisty,” one of them chuckled. “We like a girl who makes things interesting.”

Christina didn’t flinch. “Last chance. Get out of my way.”

Instead of stepping aside, one of them whistled, reaching out a hand toward her chest with a lewd grin.

That was all it took. Christina snapped his wrist before his fingers even brushed her. The sickening crunch made the whole group freeze. The man yelped, “What the hell—”

The others didn’t get a chance to retaliate. Christina moved like a storm—a kick to the knee, an elbow to the jaw. One by one, she dropped them with cold precision.

Within moments, the entire group lay sprawled across the floor, groaning and clutching bruises they’d remember for weeks.

Above them, the second-floor balcony overlooked the chaos.

“That woman’s a knockout,” one of Brendon’s buddies said, his jaw practically on the floor. “Cool, confident—exactly my type.”

Brendon’s gaze drifted to the woman with the wavy hair, and the longer he stared, the stronger the sense of recognition grew. There was something in her face—something uncanny—that made him wonder if he was looking at Christina, his ex-wife.

After spending the afternoon at the hospital with Yolanda, Brendon had agreed to hit the bar on her suggestion. Blowing off steam sounded harmless—until now.

“Hold on a second,” Yolanda murmured, squinting at the woman downstairs. “Isn’t that Christina?”

“Wait, you’re telling me that knockout is actually Christina? Get out of here. That can’t be the same dull housewife who barely spoke.”

Curiosity sparked in the group as they leaned in, squinting for confirmation. Recognition settled in fast—it really was Brendon’s ex-wife, and the shock hit them like a slap.

Katie Dawson, Brendon’s younger sister, didn’t hide her disdain. “Look at her—dressed like she’s auditioning for attention. I guess getting dumped made her desperate. Bet she’s prowling for a sugar daddy.” The group laughed, quick to follow her lead.

“Typical,” someone sneered, “Women like that only know how to latch onto a man.”

“Brendon dodged a bullet. With that look? She’s practically advertising herself.”

“Take the man away, and she’s got nothing left. Just another gold-digger trying to act like she’s someone.”

Their voices scratched against Brendon’s patience like nails on glass. He’d had enough. “Cut it out!” he snapped, his tone sharper than they’d heard all night.

Without waiting for a reply, Brendon gave them one final glare and stormed off in Christina’s direction.

Chapter 3

“Brendon!”

“Wait, Brendon!”

Katie and Yolanda both called out, their voices overlapping as they rushed to stop him.

Before Brendon could move any farther, they stepped in front of him, forcing him to stop.

“Please tell me you’re not about to run to that woman,” Katie said, disbelief tightening her voice.

A flicker of anger crossed Brendon’s face. “Watch your mouth, Katie. That attitude isn’t just rude—it’s disgraceful. You’re carrying our family name. Try not to drag it through the mud.”

Yolanda gently placed a hand on Katie’s shoulder, her tone sweet and measured. “Brendon, please don’t be so harsh on Katie. She’s still young and doesn’t know better. If you still care about Christina, just be honest with me. I won’t make things difficult for you. I’ll go quietly.” Yolanda’s eyes were red with tears as she made a move to turn away, her face full of hurt.

Seeing her like this made Brendon’s heart twist. “Yolanda, no—don’t go,” he said quickly, stepping forward and grabbing her hand. “You’re misunderstanding. There’s nothing left between Christina and me.”

“Then be straight with me. Is there still a part of you that loves her? Because… if there is, I can handle it. I won’t hold it against you.” Yolanda’s voice was small and trembling as she met his eyes.

Brendon couldn’t ignore the way her face twisted with hurt and hastily said, “You’re overthinking it. Whatever Christina does now has nothing to do with me anymore.”

Yolanda reached for his hand, her voice gentle but firm. “Perhaps Christina has a reason to dress like that. Maybe she’s struggling to fend for herself. We should help her.”

Brendon was impressed by Yolanda’s apparent kindness. “You’ve always had a golden heart, Yolanda. But don’t fret over Christina. She’s not struggling the way you think. I gave her enough to live comfortably, and if she chooses to be a gold-digger and discards her self-respect, that’s on her.”

Yolanda seemed like she wanted to say more, but suddenly lost her footing, her body leaning back as her balance faltered.

Brendon moved fast, catching her before she hit the floor. “Yolanda!” His voice cracked with panic.

“I’m fine. It’s just too noisy here. I feel a bit dizzy. Let’s go back to the private room,” Yolanda’s voice came out faintly as she leaned against him.

Holding her steady, Brendon frowned. “You should have stayed in the hospital and rested for a few more days. You shouldn’t have insisted on leaving.”

Turning toward Katie, he instructed, “Katie, take her back to the private room. I’m going to the restroom and I’ll be back in a minute.”

Suspicion danced in Katie’s eyes like a match to dry paper. “You’re not seriously planning to sneak off and meet Christina, are you?”

Before Brendon could respond, Yolanda gently placed her hand on Katie’s arm. “It’s alright. If Brendon wants to speak to Christina, let him. She’s not just some stranger—she was part of his life once. Pretending she doesn’t exist won’t make her disappear. And if her inappropriate attire tonight stirs up gossip, it won’t just fall on Brendon—it could drag down the Dawson name too.”

“You’re always so thoughtful, Yolanda, even considerate of that bit—”

Katie stopped herself just as she caught Brendon’s cold stare. She froze, swallowing her next words.

A beat later, Katie’s tone shifted. “Brendon, you see, Yolanda’s still not in the clear. If something happens while you’re out here wasting time, that’s on you!”

With an exasperated sigh, Katie latched onto Yolanda’s hand. “Come on, Yolanda. We’re leaving.”

Downstairs, Christina exited the restroom. She gave her hair a casual toss, a small gesture that turned every head in the bar. Men watched her openly, eyes trailing her curves with a hunger that didn’t even try to hide itself.

From a short distance away, Brendon stood rigid. His jaw tightened as he watched the scene unfold, those men’s stares igniting something bitter inside him. They weren’t just looking—they were undressing her with their eyes. And he hated it.

“Christina Jones!” Brendon called out, voice low but taut with irritation.

Christina’s head turned slowly, her gaze meeting his with a cool detachment. She gave him a slow, deliberate once-over before answering, “What do you want?”

Her tone was casual. Distant. Like he was just another stranger in the crowd.

That chill in her voice struck a nerve. It rattled something in Brendon that he wasn’t ready to name.

Without thinking, Brendon marched over and seized her wrist. “You’re coming with me.”