Billionaire, Let's Divorce! by BELLA

AIDEN

Overtime, Amie's case garnered lots of media attention. Every news channel had a picture of the poor girl as they talked about her unfair death and how everyone responsible must be punished accordingly.

In the midst of it all, the spotlight shifted from Amie to Sharon and I. Somehow, words had got out about our marriage and her fake pregnancy.

I began to receive phone calls from several unknown numbers, calling to ask ridiculous questions all in the quest of getting information directly from the source. I had to switch the SIM card on my phone with the one with my assistant. If there was any information, he could just pass it through. I was done dealing with those incessant calls.

When Sharon had gotten better and she had to be returned to the police station, they arrived at the station to a swarm of reporters at the entrance.

The police guarded her side as they led her inside, but that didn't stop the reporters from shouting their questions;

"Did you really fake a pregnancy, Mrs Aiden?"

"Mrs Sharon, are you still a married woman?"

"Where's your husband? Does he still love you?"

"Will there be a divorce?"

"Were you really involved in Amie Dennis' death?"

"Did you cheat on your husband with one of the kidnappers?"

all the while, Sharon had her head down, her hair long enough to cover

was crying and regretting her actions. But she had gone too far. Regret and tears

been working from home since the media got involved. Night and day, there were always reporters crowded either at my company, waiting for me or at the

knocking on my door and windows. And even at that, so e if them still lurked around, pretending to be passersby

if there was more between them than their attempt to defraud him and initiate him in some cult as I'd heard from the detective. The relief on his face when their judgement

I had first wondered where Justin was until I remembered that he said he'd gotten him a nanny. I

rang and I picked

them lurking around now, you can come out,"

muttered as I grabbed my car keys and made my way

said, there were no clicking cameras or probing eyes till I

behind me, another car, filled with a security team, followed

the day of Sharon's trial. The day for her to also get

called to plead, to yell, but I'd made up my

car in the parking lot and made my way

I cussed under my breath when I noticed the crowd at the

also noticed me and they rushed forward, cameras clicking, phone and speakers and microphones tucked my way. In no time, I was swarmed. "What do you have to say about your wife's trial,

you still love

you feel

Mrs Aiden felt the need to

kept my lips sealed tight as

back, everyone,