The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

Ryan slowly stepped into the living room, his reddened eyes scanning the surroundings. Everything looked the same as before, as if nothing had happened. "Mr. Hoffman, you are back."

A gentle and respectful voice, ethereal and melodious, floated into his ears.

Ryan's face instantly lit up with a warm smile, and he reflexively responded, "I'm back."

However, he would never hear the next sentence again.

With a thud, Ryan could no longer hold himself up. His once proud and tall frame collapsed, his knees hitting the floor as he curled into a cocoon.

"Ryan!"

"Mr. Hoffman!"

to hear the faint sound of droplets hitting the

buried his head deeply, large tears streaming from his tightly closed eyes,

and I handle the organizing. Don't push yourself," Justin said, holding his trembling shoulders,

the floor, taking slow steps towards the stairs. Justin watched

remembered their younger days-how Ryan would always boast about Yasmin, calling

who cared most for him-his

a desk, showing no

doorway, watching Ryan's fingers gently trace the surface of the desk and the neatly made bed,

the wardrobe door and looked at the exquisite evening gowns, each meticulously stored in plastic garment bags, all looking brand

up in his eyes as memories

with a tearful smile. "I still remember stunning she looked in these dresses. Those lecherous men could