The Billionaire’s Wife Who Read Minds, Only to Find Donkeys!

"Sign here, and once the divorce is finalized, I won’t pursue any legal action against you. I’ll give you an additional two hundred million, plus I’ll make your studio independent and transfer it to you. Also, there’s that property downtown…” A low, soothing voice—yet ice-cold—rang out. Isabella Quinn couldn’t help but raise her hand to cover her mouth, stifling the laughter that almost escaped her. Her almond-shaped eyes sparkled—one full of “200,000,” the other marked with “0,000!” She lowered her head, carefully counting the zeros on the divorce agreement. Across from her, the tall man sat silently at the desk, his sharp, aristocratic features framed by dark, jade-like eyes that gleamed with a cold light. He watched as Isabella Quinn lowered her head, covering her mouth, her body trembling slightly. A sense of coldness surged within him. If only he had known this was how it would turn out, Jackson Trump would never have let things go this far. Isabella Quinn was both pitiful and detestable. Her parents were close friends of the Trump family, but they passed away when she was still a child. As per their final wishes, the Trump family took her in, but instead of showing gratitude, she repaid their kindness with betrayal, eventually using deceit to become his wife. Since then, their life together had been far from peaceful—she stalked him, created trouble out of nothing, and made his life a chaotic mess. And now, she had stolen confidential company information and handed it to a rival company, costing them a major project. The entire company was up in arms. Even for the sake of the board of directors, he had no choice but to divorce her. “I’ve already shown you enough mercy. I hope you know when to quit while you're ahead.” If not for her deceased parents, Jackson Trump wouldn’t have left her any way out. He had expected Isabella Quinn to cry, throw a tantrum, and refuse to sign, but instead, she took the pen, her hand shaking. Seeing this, Jackson Trump exhaled slightly, relieved. It seemed Isabella Quinn knew she had gone too far and wasn’t going to resist anymore. Finally, he could get the divorce. **[Oh my god! Finally, I can get divorced!]** Jackson Trump:? Was that Isabella Quinn’s voice? He had barely ever heard her express any joy, so for a moment, he wasn’t sure. He looked up, but all he saw was Isabella Quinn, her expression twisted in anger as she prepared to sign. Was she angry… or was she… happy? Wait a minute, Isabella Quinn hadn’t even spoken. **[Great! Two hundred million! Two hundred million! That’ll buy so many houses, and I can keep so many little boy toys! Truly a generous ex-husband, so magnanimous!]** Jackson Trump’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows twitched slightly. He was certain Isabella Quinn hadn’t spoken, but he had definitely heard her voice. What was going on? Jackson Trump, always cautious and composed, glanced over at Mr. Luca sitting nearby. Mr. Luca was staring intently at the divorce agreement Isabella Quinn was about to sign. Noticing Jackson’s gaze, Mr. Luca immediately gave a sympathetic look, almost as if he were pitying them for reaching this point. But Jackson Trump’s mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t care less about Mr. Luca’s odd expression—what mattered was that Mr. Luca couldn’t hear those voices! “Miss Quinn, you’ve caused Mr. Trump quite a headache this time. I hope you’ll start a new chapter of your life once you leave. Just don’t… sigh.” Mr. Luca’s voice was strained as he tried to sound compassionate, but inside, he was counting down, waiting for Isabella Quinn to explode. After all, this was the same woman who would blow up over the slightest provocation. Maybe this time, she wouldn’t get her generous settlement. Perhaps she would walk away empty-handed, no better than someone left to fend for themselves. Mr. Luca thought Isabella Quinn didn’t deserve a single bit of Jackson Trump’s kindness. But instead of the expected outburst, Isabella Quinn just looked up briefly, then—almost as if in a hurry to escape her own fate—she quickly signed her name. **[So frustrating! Even though I’m being blamed for everything, at least I’m getting a divorce and all this compensation. I won’t bother arguing with the real culprit.]** Jackson Trump took the divorce agreement that Isabella Quinn tossed his way, his movements stiffening. A storm brewed in his dark, intense gaze. What? A scapegoat? The real culprit? Before he could even process the shock of hearing those voices, a new revelation hit him. Wasn’t it supposed to be that Isabella Quinn, angry at his indifference, deliberately caused trouble to get his attention, only to make a huge mess? Everyone knew she was the only one who had been in and out of his office during that time. There were even photos of her meeting privately with the vice president of the rival company. The evidence was damning. At first, she denied everything, throwing a fit, but in the end… In the end, she seemed to snap and yell, “If you don’t believe me, then fine, blame me! What are you going to do about it?” He had assumed that Isabella Quinn was just embarrassed and angry at being exposed. But now… it seemed like she might have just been throwing in the towel, in a sort of reckless, rebellious act. “Mr. Trump, it’s time to sign.” Mr. Luca’s voice grew more urgent, his usually calm tone now tinged with a bit of panic. Jackson Trump heard him, but something about Mr. Luca’s impatience bothered him. Was Mr. Luca crossing a line? He remembered Mr. Luca was a close friend from college, someone he had trusted completely. How could he betray the company like this? But now, Mr. Luca, growing increasingly impatient, had already pushed the pen toward him. Jackson Trump was known for his cold demeanor, but he was also deeply responsible, especially when it came to family. He was a soft touch when it came to those close to him. If not for that, Isabella Quinn, this foolish woman, wouldn’t have been able to keep hanging around. Several near-divorces had ended in failure thanks to Isabella Quinn’s crying, tantrums, and threats of suicide. This time, though, she had signed. He couldn’t let it all fall apart now. **[Tsk tsk, Mr. Luca must be getting nervous. Looks like he’s afraid it’ll all be for nothing.]** Jackson Trump’s expression shifted. He spun the pen in his hand and placed it firmly on the table. Both Isabella Quinn and Mr. Luca froze. Jackson Trump’s dark, penetrating eyes fixed on Isabella Quinn, who hadn’t yet taken the time to hide her expression of disbelief. “I’ll ask you one more time. Did you do this?” He was always cautious—if everything he’d heard was true, not only would an innocent person be wronged, but it could also leave the company with an irremovable stain. He had to confirm this. Mr. Luca’s face immediately tightened, but he wasn’t worried. After all, Isabella Quinn couldn’t possibly defend herself. Isabella Quinn, feeling the heavy pressure from Jackson Trump’s intense gaze, suddenly felt uneasy. **[What’s the deal? Why are you asking me again? Are you saying you’re not going to give me the two hundred million? You can’t be having second thoughts now, can you? Why not sign first and ask questions later?!]** Jackson Trump’s chest tightened. He simply stared at Isabella Quinn, as if demanding an answer. Isabella Quinn’s eyes darted, and she couldn’t help but mentally complain. **[Of course, it wasn’t me! But who’s paying attention, right?]** **[Mr. Luca was in and out of the office too, but no one noticed! No need for the surveillance footage, they just dragged me out as a scapegoat.]** **[Talk about a subconscious blind spot.]** Jackson Trump suddenly froze. Had there been others entering and leaving his office besides Isabella Quinn? At the time, everyone had assumed it was her, but they never checked the surveillance footage. He had subconsciously believed Isabella Quinn was the type to do something like this, so… Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Isabella Quinn suddenly coldly said, “I don’t have anything else to say. Sign the damn papers.” Jackson Trump’s expression darkened. He didn’t understand why she wouldn’t just speak the truth, especially when she knew he knew what had really happened. Was she afraid he wouldn’t believe her? With that thought, Jackson Trump suddenly stood up. Mr. Luca, surprised, looked at him. Jackson Trump shot him a cold glance, his eyes sharp and probing. Mr. Luca immediately shivered. Before Mr. Luca could react, Jackson Trump was already walking toward the door. He passed by a stunned Isabella Quinn, his voice low. “Come with me.” “Wait… what?” Isabella Quinn was totally confused. Jackson Trump threw open the door and called to the busy assistants outside. “Get the surveillance footage from the 11th, evening shift! My wife isn’t happy, let her see whether she was the only one going in and out that night!” Mr. Luca, following behind, paled instantly. “Mr. Trump!” Isabella Quinn:??? [This is so unfair! When did I ever say I wasn’t happy? Look at my face, I’m already done! I'm ready to go now!]