She Became Rich After Divorce by Georgina Lane

Chapter 229: Omari’s Past (Part One)

On February 23, 2014, nearing the end of the year, a cold front blew in from the northwest and made its way through the flat plains. Akloit had been experiencing light rain for half a month straight with daytime temperatures only reaching three degrees Celsius.

A bright black Porsche Cayenne drove through the rain and stopped in front of an old residential building located in an alleyway that had been around for many years. The surrounding area was filled with low- rise buildings.

The alleyway was so narrow that once the car entered it, it took up the entire space. The tires rolled over cobblestones and black sewage water mixed with rainwater jumped out and flowed into a drain along with gravity.

The air was filled with a foul smell of groundwater that resembled rotting dead mice or stinky eggs.

Sitting inside her luxury car, Laurel wrinkled her nose in disgust and covered it with her handkerchief before taking out limited edition Chanel perfume from her purse to spray herself. She said disdainfully, “Can people even live here? I’ve seen pig farms more upscale than this! I can’t believe there are still such backward places like this in Akloit; they’re really holding back city development.”

The middle-aged man driving looked to be around forty years old. He wore a black suit paired with matching trousers and his hair was neatly combed despite his ruggedly handsome face showing signs of aging. It was clear he must have been quite handsome when he was younger.

“Laurel, watch your words,” he warned sternly. “What do you mean by saying people can’t live here?”

This was Akloit’s slum area which may only occupy one-tenth of Akloit’s land but houses forty percent of its population.

The small shabby houses were packed tightly together like sardines; each small window represented one household where families lived cramped lives like hardworking ants struggling to make ends meet. Most residents were migrant workers who came from remote mountainous areas to work at nearby factories or ports selling their labor for survival.

Laurel sneered as she spoke; she wasn’t even being harsh enough on these homes which couldn’t compare to even doghouses prepared for her beloved pets.

low-class

her fists tightly wondering why on earth her husband chose

everything including music, chess artistry, flower arrangement, tea ceremonies but ultimately lost out to someone

sudden death of that woman, her husband would never

other words, he had cheated on her in just their second year of

in a small courtyard that was dilapidated and run-down, made up of the

crammed together sharing one faucet and toilet, making

in the morning were returning home to cook. A fat middle-aged woman

out from the stove as she squatted down before it blowing fiercely at its

cotton-padded jacket paired with black cotton pants; this posture

immediately flashed across her square face even though she didn’t know what brand of car it was but could tell by looking at it that it must be worth quite

everything about everyone living around here, but no one

woman forgot all about cooking when she saw someone get out of such an expensive car right outside where

the same age as herself but much slimmer and more delicate-looking than she did,

by lustrous pearl earrings, she was exquisite and noble. Beside her stood an elegant man dressed smartly in his suit exuding both sharpness and dominance. His shiny black leather

Angel

Angel? The sickly lady?

chubby woman stared dumbfoundedly at the man in front of her, her greedy eyes fixed on him. He was obviously a big shot, and he was so handsome!

behind them. It belonged to a teenage boy who seemed to be going through puberty – his voice was somewhere between mature and awkward, leaving