DIVORCED BY THE BILLIONAIRE HUSBAND.HE REGRETTED

Chapter 5

Fariana blankly stared at the wall.

For a long time she didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t even breathe right.

The house was too quiet. The kind of quiet that makes your own thoughts echo.

And then, slowly, a plan started forming in her head.

It started small. Like a spark.

_What if I don’t make this easy for them?_

Then it grew.

_What if I make it hell?_

Maybe it was petty.

Maybe it was cruel.

But they’d ruined her life first, hadn’t they? Dragged her name, called her a cheater in front of people who used to smile at her at charity events.

So why shouldn’t she ruin theirs too?

A small, cold smile touched her lips.

If Bruce wanted that divorce signature so badly, then he was going to earn it.

Every. Single. Day.

The next morning she called them both to the living room.

She didn’t yell. She didn’t send a text. She just told the head maid, “Tell them to come down. Now.”

Bruce came in first. Of course he did.

Suit on. Hair perfect. Face blank like he’d practiced it in the mirror. CEO mode activated.

Dolly followed two seconds later. Heels clicking like she was walking into a board meeting. Red dress, red lips, that fake innocent smile she always wore when she thought no one was watching.

Fariana didn’t stand up. She stayed on the couch, legs crossed, scrolling on her phone like they weren’t even there.

Let them wait.

Finally she looked up.

“I have a deal,” she said calmly.

Bruce frowned. That little line appeared between his eyebrows. The one that showed up when he didn’t like being caught off guard.

“What kind of deal?”

“You want me to sign the divorce papers, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then for the next month, you and Dolly are going to be my servants.”

Silence.

For a full three seconds, nobody said anything. You could hear the clock on the wall.

Then Bruce actually laughed. One short, disbelieving sound.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not joking,” Fariana said, and her voice didn’t shake at all. She’d practiced that in the mirror too. “You want my signature? Then you do what I say. For the rest of the month.”

The smile dropped from Bruce’s face so fast it was almost funny.

Dolly’s mouth fell open. “You can’t be serious—”

“Oh, I am,” Fariana cut her off. “Very serious. Dead serious. Like, funeral-serious.”

She leaned back on the couch like she owned the place. Because right now, she kind of did. The power had shifted and she could feel it in her bones.

“Here’s how it’s going to work,” she continued, ticking things off on her fingers like she was making a grocery list.

“Bruce. You’re going to take me to the movies every Friday. Front row seats. Popcorn. The works.

You’re going to do my makeup. And I mean actually do it. Foundation, eyeliner, the whole thing. YouTube it if you have to.

And—” she paused, pretending to think really hard “—you’re going to personally wash my car. By hand. Every Sunday. No drivers. No assistants. No fancy car wash. Just you, a bucket, and a sponge. And you better wax it too.”

Bruce stared at her like she’d just grown a second head.

“And Dolly,” Fariana turned to her, sweet and sharp. “You’re going to clean my shoes. Every single pair. Including the white ones. With a toothbrush if you have to.

And you’re going to cook me dinner three nights a week. My favorite food. And no, pasta doesn’t count as my favorite food just because it’s easy. I want the salmon I had on our anniversary. The one you said was ‘too complicated.’”

Dolly made a strangled noise. Like a teapot about to boil. “I am not—”

“You are,” Fariana said simply. “Unless you want me to never sign that paper. Ever. I can drag this out for years, Dolly. We both know lawyers love that.”

The servants standing in the hallway froze. Maria, who’d worked here for ten years, almost dropped a tray of coffee. James the driver was trying very hard to look at the floor.

They’d never seen anything like this. The billionaire CEO on his knees with a car sponge? The woman who showed up to galas in diamonds scrubbing Louboutins?

It was almost funny. If it wasn’t so tense.

Bruce looked like he wanted to argue. Like he wanted to yell. His jaw was tight and his hands were in fists at his sides.

He opened his mouth, closed it. Opened it again.

But then he looked at the folder on the coffee table. The divorce papers. Sitting there like a ticking bomb.

And he exhaled hard. The kind of exhale that comes from a man who’s losing.

“Fine,” he said through his teeth. “One month.”

Dolly screamed. Actually screamed. Like a horror movie scream.

“Bruce, you’re not seriously— are you insane? You’re Bruce Carter! You run a company! You can’t—”

“I am,” he snapped, and he didn’t even look at her. “Because I need her to sign.”

Fariana just watched them. Calm.

Inside she felt like crying and laughing at the same time. Her chest was tight but her shoulders felt lighter than they had in months.

This was wrong. This was messy.

But for the first time since the betrayal, she felt like she had control.

Bruce looked at her, and for a second she saw it. That c***k.

He looked like he might actually cry. Not from sadness. From humiliation. From the fact that the world he controlled was now calling the shots.

“Anything else, Mrs. Bruce?” he asked, voice low. The “Mrs.” sounded like it hurt him to say.

Fariana tilted her head. Pretended to think.

“Yeah. Start with my makeup. We’re going out tonight. And Bruce?”

“What.”

“Don’t mess up the eyeliner. I hate when it’s uneven. Makes me look tired.”

She stood up then, slow, and walked past them both.

She could feel Dolly’s eyes burning holes in her back. She could hear Bruce’s breathing, sharp and angry.

And as Bruce walked away to get her makeup bag from the bathroom cabinet, and Dolly stood there fuming with her fists clenched, Fariana thought:

_Let’s see how long you last._

_Let’s see how long you can be the one serving for once._

She got to her room and closed the door.

Then she sat on the bed and laughed.

Not a pretty laugh. A real one. Messy and loud and a little bit crazy.

Because for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t the one being told what to do.

Downstairs, she could hear Dolly muttering and Bruce opening and closing drawers.

The sound of a billionaire looking for lipstick.

God. This was going to be a long month.

And she was going to enjoy every second of it.