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?"

Sharon had her head down, her hair long enough to cover

regretting her actions.

since the media got involved. Night and day, there were always reporters crowded either at

And even at that, so e if them still lurked around, pretending to be passersby or driving past, hoping to catch a glimpse of anything fresh to publish. Amie's captors and killers have been

wonder 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

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

rang and

none of them lurking around now, you can come out," one of the security outside said on the

muttered as I grabbed my car

as he said, there were no clicking cameras or probing

security team, followed me as i drove

The day for

called to plead, to yell, but I'd made up my mind. She has to pay for all that

lot and

the crowd at the entrance of

same time, they also noticed me and they rushed forward, cameras clicking, phone and speakers and microphones tucked my

still love

you feel about her

Is that why Mrs

tight as I struggled

back, everyone,