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!"

and Dean hurriedly rushed to support him, only to hear the faint sound of

deeply, large tears streaming from his tightly

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

up from the floor, taking slow steps towards

about

knew 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

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

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

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

eyes as memories flooded his

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 men could not take their eyes off her, and every time I took her out, I would come back inexplicably furious. It was not romantic jealousy, just the feeling of having my little sister ogled by