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

his tightly closed eyes,

organizing. Don't push yourself," Justin said, holding his trembling shoulders, his own

the floor, taking slow steps towards the stairs. Justin watched his stubborn yet fragile back, feeling an unbearable pain

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

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

only a bed, a wardrobe, and a desk, showing no sign that it had belonged

They stood at the doorway, watching Ryan's fingers gently trace the surface of the

exquisite evening gowns, each meticulously stored in

eyes as memories

a female companion, it was always Yasmin by my side," Ryan said, pulling bright red evening gown with a tearful smile. "I still remember stunning she looked in these dresses. Those lecherous