I’m Divorcing with You Mr Billionaire! (Sydney and Mark) novel Chapter 14

Chapter 14 Chapter Fourteen 

I stared at Mark in disbelief, my eyes widening incredulously as his demand echoed in the room, harshly bouncing off the walls. His determined eyes were fixated on me, his l*ps were set in a straight line and his arms that were folded across his ch*st hinted at his seriousness. 

“You’re saying I have to give you a million dollars as a breakup fee?!” The words burst from my l*ps and my voice resounded in the room. “What the actual hell! A million dollars?” The absurdity of his request was incredulous. 

“Yes, you have to give me a million dollars before I sign those papers,” he an- swered calmly as if he was asking me to pay him a measly sum of three hun- dred dollars. The nonchalant demeanor with which he responded only did more to heighten my disbelief than make me come to terms with his demand. 

“You can’t possibly be serious,” I exclaimed, the words tumbling out of my m*uth in a mixture of disbelief and frustration as I got on my knees on the bed, all strung up. “You’re a billionaire, and yet you’re asking me for a breakup fee?” 

“That’s right,” He replied, his tone was firm and unwavering and his gaze was 

steady as he met my incredulous stare. 

“That’s insane, Mark!” I exclaimed, my voice rising with a mixture of exaspera- 

tion and my heightened disbelief. 

He shrugged. “Since you’re the one who proposed the divorce, you have to pay me a breakup fee. That’s my condition. And mind you,” his brows rode up his 

hairline, “I’m talking about US dollars. If you can’t meet my condition, don’t even 

think about bringing up divorce ever again.” 

My jaw dropped as I gaped at him. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How petty could he be? “But Mark, that’s absurd! You know I can’t afford to give you that kind of money. You don’t even need it. Your weekly revenue is way more 

than that.” 

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How did he expect me to come by that huge amount of money if he didn’t know that I co owned Luxe and Atelier? 

He folded his arms across his ch*st , unmoved by my protests. “That’s not my problem, Sydney. You wanted the divorce, now you have to deal with the conse 

quence that is a million dollars. 

I felt a surge of frustration and anger rise within me as he kept repeating the amount he wanted me to pay to him. “You’re being completely unreasonable, Mark. This is unfair!” 

“And it is fair that you’re divorcing me without prior notice or reasonable excuse .” he raised a perfectly arched brow. 

“I didn’t know I had to inform you eons before I file for a divorce,” I retorted, my b*dy taut with irritation. 

He shrugged in that nonchalant way again, his expression indifferent. “Your don’t just wake up one morning, leave the house, and send me divorce papers,” he reiterated, his tone lacking any form of remorse or understanding. 

“I told you before I left!” I exclaimed, frustration bubbling up inside me. Oh God. This man was driving me nuts with his dismissive attitude. 

He shrugged again, his l*ps twitching into a sardonic smile, a flash of amuse- ment dancing in his eyes. “I had thought you were joking. Or just exercising your newfound courage or something,” he remarked, his tone dripping with con- 

descension. 

Wow! I gaped at him, incredulous at his audacity. “This is utter extortion, Mark!” 

I exclaimed, my voice trembling with anger. 

But he remained unfazed, shrugging nonchalantly as if my outrage was just a 

minor inconvenience. “Call it what you want,” he retorted, his tone dismissive. 

“But those are my terms. Take it or leave it,” he concluded, his words leaving a 

bitter taste in my m*uth. 

I clenched my fists and my mind raced with disbelief and indignation. 

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Chapter 14 Chapter Fourteen 

A million dollars! 

Though I had been away from the company for three years, the financial state- ments I had looked through when I resumed were very impressive. With those 

statements, it would be pretty easy to come up with such an amount but it was unfair. It was unfair to Grace. She had been toiling for the companies while I rot- ted away in a forsaken marriage. It would be unfair to just come one day and waltz away with a million dollars. I doubted if Grace had ever even withdrawn 

that much from the businesses. 

“Can we negotiate a lower price?” I tried to reason with him, my voice slightly ca- Joling, hoping to appeal to whatever humanity was left in him. “Say eight hun- 

dred thousand dollars?” 

He sneered and dipped his hands in his pockets, his posture exuding arro- 

gance. “I’m a billionaire. You know it, and you even said it yourself just now,” he 

scoffed. “The title of being my wife is worth far more than a million dollars. I want a million dollars, not a penny less.” 

“I could take this to court, you know,” I gritted out, meeting his gaze head–on, 

hoping to turn the tables and save myself a few thousand dollars. 

He opened his arms wide, his smirk widening. “Be my guest, love,” he taunted, 

his confidence oozing. “Let’s take this to court.” 

I bit my l*p, my mind racing as I weighed my options. It wouldn’t really be wise to take this to court. For all I knew, since I initiated the divorce process, the judge might end up ordering me to pay more if, after his investigation, he got a whiff that I co–owned Luxe and Atelier. Besides, Mark would obviously have. more connections to turn the case to his advantage. My heart sank at the real- 

ization that my escape plan might backfire eventually. 

“When do we go to court?” He broke into my thought process, his voice mock- ingly urgent, “Tomorrow? Now? I’m ready whenever.” 

“Fine!” I closed my eyes in frustration and raised my palm. “Fine, okay?” I met. his gaze, my resolve wavering under the pressure. “I agree.” I caved in, knowing that delaying further would only prolong my unwanted ties to him. 

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I’d just have to bag super–rich clients afterward to make up for this withdrawal, I reassured myself. Besides, I could even negotiate double the money back from him since he was willing to pay any amount for the two custom–made Jew- elry pieces he had ordered from us. 

“But remember,” I added, locking eyes with him, “Once I’ve raised the money, you can’t back out.” My tone was firm, a subtle warning hidden beneath my 

words. 

He hesitated, his eyes probed, making my skin tingle. Then he lifted his chin. “Of course. But until you’ve raised the money, you must return to our residence. To the outside world, we must maintain the appearance of us being husband 

and wife, just like before.” 

“And if I don’t?” I arched a brow and folded my arms on my ch*st , my chin tip- ping up. 

He chuckled, seeming amused. “It’s simple. I’ll raise the breakup fee. How 

about two million dollars?!” 

f**k you, Mark Torres. f**k you! 

Although I was sure I could pull the two million dollars together, there was no 

way I would let him milk me dry. 

“Whatever,” I muttered, rolling my eyes and sitting back. “I’d move back in and 

get you the fee as soon as possible.” 

If I could inform Grace and our finance department and also finalize the neces- sary paperwork today, I was certain that I could get the money ready by tomor- 

row. That way I would just have to spend a night in his place. It’s not so bad. I mentally shrug. It wasn’t a big deal. 

“What? You’re going to cry to mummy and daddy to give you a million dollars to pay your approved husband so he signs the divorce papers?” He mocked. 

“It’s none of your business how I get the money as long as you get it.” 

He shrugged, “True.” Then with a smug smile stretching across his l*ps, he 

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reached out for me. His movement was so sudden that I couldn’t move away. 

from his grasp. 

His fingers closed around my wrist like a vice and he effortlessly pulled me up from the bed, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. 

“Now, go out there and be a good wife,” he commanded, his tone laced with an irritating arrogance. 

Without another word, he strode out of the room, leaving me to scurry after him like the dummy bride I had once been. I picked up my bag with the leisure of one who had all the time in the world and stepped out of the room at my own 

pace. 

As I made my way out, I made a mental note to either meet up with Grace or call her to speak with her about the withdrawal after the party. 

I almost collided into his back when he came to an abrupt stop, his sudden halt jolting me out of my wandering thoughts and I crashed back to reality. 

I looked up, and there she was, her figure outlined against the dim light filtering through the floor to length windows below the stairs, behind her. Her eyes glint- ed with tears, her l*ps pulled down in a heartbreaking grimace. I guess the anger that had once blazed in her gaze as she watched Mark storm out of the courtyard with me on his shoulder had worn off because in that moment, she 

looked utterly pathetic. 

She seemed to have been climbing up the stairs in search of us because right now, she stood frozen at the top of the stairs, her eyes fixated on Mark. 

I cleared my throat, breaking whatever trance they were in. Her gaze slid from 

Mark to me. 

I didn’t know what prompted me but I found myself straightening my dress and smoothening my hair, hinting at what didn’t happen between us. But she need not know nothing of the sort happened. The indications were there; Mark throw- ing me over his shoulders and bringing me to a room. His tie was slightly loos- ened from when he loosened it when we were talking and my hair was a bit scat- 

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tered from when he threw me on the bed. My silk dress also had a slight crease 

from kneeling on the bed and it had also ridden up. 

Her eyes eyed me up and widened at my actions with disbelief and betrayal. She looked like she was struggling to comprehend what I was hinting at. The si- lence between us stretched taut, the weight of her gaze bearing down on us. 

Hmm, how does it feel to be in my shoes? 

“Mark,” I said his name so softly that he turned back in surprise, his expression told of his confusion at my sudden demeanor. He watched, with curiosity, as I walked to him and closed the distance between us. Holding his gaze, I reached out and forcefully linked our arms together. I leaned my head on his shoulders and let my eyes rest on Bella. “Darling,” I purred, fluttering my lashes, “My head hurts, I need you to take me home.” 

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