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!"

rushed to support him, only to hear the faint sound of droplets hitting the

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

handle the organizing. Don't push yourself," Justin said, holding

I'm fine." Ryan wiped his tears harshly and used his arms to push himself up from the floor, taking slow steps towards the stairs.

their younger days-how Ryan would always boast about Yasmin, calling her his little follower with an

that Yasmin was not just Ryan's loyal subordinate. She was the person who cared most for him-his dearest friend, someone he trusted with his life. They arrived at the room where Yasmin

bed, a wardrobe, and a desk, showing no

of helping, dared not move anything. They stood at the doorway, watching Ryan's fingers gently trace the

opened the wardrobe door and looked at the exquisite evening gowns, each meticulously stored

welled up in his eyes as memories flooded his

tearful smile. "I still remember stunning she looked in these dresses. Those lecherous men could not take