Billionaire, Let's Divorce! by BELLA

SYDNEY'S POV

I couldn't stop the laugh that burst out of me as I took in the fourth special order for the day.

Usually, Atelier receives a bunch of orders on a daily basis, and our employees take care of these orders. But if the jewelry order were to be custom made, the orders came directly to me.

Right there on my screen was an order for two pieces of jewelry from Mark's assistant. It had been included in the preference space for it to 'stand out' from any of our jewelries, then he ended it with 'just name your price'.

Typical. Only Mark would be so egotistic to make a request sound insulting. It was Mark's assistant that placed the order, but I was sure the order was on behalf of Mark. There was no way his assistant would be able to afford Atelier's custom-made designs for himself.

I swiveled in my chair, whistling, "Time to make some extra millions."

I turned back to my laptop's screen and reread the last phrase. My grin widened, "Oh. I am so going to name my price."

Briefly, I wondered who he'd be gifting and only Bella came to mind. "Awww," I cooed, wiping the fake tears trying to escape my eyes. He wants to gift her two custom-made jewelries at once? So sweet.

There was no better way for my day to go than an order from Mark. I was ready to make a fortune from him. After all, I didn't ask for alimony.

As I thought of how much I should charge Mark, swiveling in the chair, I couldn't help but notice the clean, expensive paint on the walls, the latest inbuilt television, the plush chairs...

I stopped swirling on the chair and looked around. Everything looked so well kept. My heart warmed with gratitude, even in my long absence, Grace didn't fail to keep this place running. She efficiently handled the two businesses all by herself when she could have easily abandoned Atelier and fully focused on the fashion sector that she handles so well.

Then I remembered her upcoming birthday and thought it would be the perfect time to also gift her a piece of specially made jewelry for her hard work and support apart from her birthday gift.

Now having three specially made jewelries added to the pending orders I had, I decided to get to work.

First, I made a sketch for the first four pieces of jewelry which was one of our client's daughters' graduation gift, Mark's and Grace's. The latter's Jewelry stood out. Then I designed a 3D jewelry model for all of them. I took extra care and time in picking out the color and gemstones for Grace. I needed it to be perfect.

Hours later, I was done with the designs for the four pieces. For a brief second, I reclined in my chair, my lips curved in a smile as I appreciated my handiwork.

I got out of my head, printed out what I designed and strode to the workshop. I got greetings from the workers there and I returned their greetings with a smile.

put on the appropriate

hours later when I pulled the helmet off my face and turned off the machine. I let out a deep breath and fanned my

up a small bottle of water and guzzled almost half of it. It was already dark outside and I already said my goodbyes to our employees hours ago. It was always like that. I always get carried away whenever I design

I

I inspected the rest too. I stacked them

in the control room then

a short scream, my feet came to an abrupt stop and my bag landed on the floor with a thud from my hands as the door abruptly burst

shoulders drooped and my legs almost gave as I breathed out in

her face. She was grinning widely, the excitement wafting off her in many folds. "What's got you so

my hands and

she rambled on as I locked the door. "And guess what? He's Italian." She literally jumped as she said it, her feet lifted off

"I came back specifically to get

saw a handsome Italian guy? But I pulled

"Come on."

your outfits so we won't have to waste time going back home," she explained as we headed

I smirked as I lifted the skirt she brought to the air. I didn't think I had ever seen a skirt so

look good on

the front seat. Then she faced the front and started

I struggled into the miniskirt in the small space of the backseat and put on the simple cute tank top she brought with

bar, I put on the black heels I had worn to work

the neon lights slightly concealing the carefree occupants

head to the music as we stepped in. Grace was looking

pouted, "I

so

but she still

babe." Then I threw my hands in the air, "Italian dude or not," I whined my waist and winked at her, "let's dance the night away." Instantly, her face lit up and she threw her hands in the air too. We both

mine above my head as I swayed

table. Soon, the DJ changed beats and I felt myself

shook my head in the air, my hair whipping around my face. I could hear Grace's