Forex Billionaire;My Last Trade System

His ex-wife visits with her new man

It was the middle of the afternoon when Daniel’s ex-wife arrived at the hospital, Richard beside her.

The world outside was bright and warm, but inside, her mind was clouded with worry.

She moved with quiet determination, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor as she approached the reception desk.

She had rehearsed this moment a hundred times in her head, trying to anticipate every possible scenario, every question the staff might ask.

“Excuse me,” she said politely, her voice calm but edged with urgency.

“Could you please tell me which ward my daughter is in?”

The receptionist looked up, her fingers flying across the keyboard. “Yes, ma’am. She’s in Room 402, third floor. Take the elevator on your left. Nurses will assist you if needed.”

“Thank you so much,” she replied, offering a brief smile. Richard gave her a reassuring nod, carrying a small bag she had packed with dresses and a few personal items for Mia.

Even in his casual confidence, she could see the way he scanned the corridor, as if claiming ownership over the hospital by his mere presence.

The elevator ride felt long, though it was only a few floors. Her mind drifted to Mia—the little girl who had always been the center of their lives, whose laughter could melt anger and whose innocence carried the weight of everything they had built. She felt a pang of guilt, quickly buried under a layer of composure.

When they arrived at the ward, she spotted Mia resting on the hospital bed. Relief softened her features for a brief moment, but it didn’t linger.

There was still Daniel—absent now, but he would return, and the thought made her heart race.

Kneeling beside Mia, she smiled gently, careful not to betray the tension coiling in her chest.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she whispered. “I brought you some dresses. See? Pink, blue… your favorites.”

Mia’s eyes lit up, and she clapped her small hands together in delight. “Mom! Thank you!” Her face was bright, innocent, unaware of the tension that had followed her mother into the hospital.

They settled into a quiet routine.

For a few minutes, they talked softly—about the dresses, about Mia’s favorite books, about the little things that made her happy. Then, she reached for the spaghetti she had brought, ready to eat but needed guidance.

“Let me help you, honey,” her mother said, gently removing the plate and guiding the fork toward her daughter’s mouth.

Every careful movement, every smile, was meant to fill the sterile room with comfort and normalcy. She wanted Mia to feel safe, to feel loved, even if everything around them felt fragile.

As Mia ate, her mother leaned slightly toward Richard.

“Could you settle the hospital bills for me?” she asked quietly, keeping her voice low so Mia wouldn’t hear. “I don’t want to bother Daniel, and I know we don’t have much time.”

Richard nodded, accepting the papers she handed him.

“Sure,” he said, his tone casual. He left the room, walking toward the cashier desk with a confident stride, leaving her alone with Mia.

For a few moments, she focused entirely on her daughter—watching the way she twirled the spaghetti around her fork, the little hum she made when she tasted the sauce, the way her eyes lit up with every bite.

It was a fragile pocket of normalcy, a momentary escape from the complications that hovered like storm clouds just outside the door.

When Richard returned, he carried the hospital receipt with a self-satisfied grin.

“It’s already been settled,” he said casually, handing it to her. “Someone paid it before I could.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. She had expected to pay, or at least to oversee the payment herself. For a moment, her mind raced, trying to reconcile the unexpected development. But she quickly masked her reaction, hiding any trace of shock from Mia.

“All right,” she said softly, setting the papers aside. “Everything is taken care of.”

She returned her attention fully to Mia, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

“Eat carefully, sweetheart. Don’t rush,” she said, her tone calm, though the small knot of tension in her chest refused to ease.

The quiet was broken only by the soft sounds of Mia enjoying her meal.

The little girl was completely oblivious to the undercurrent of emotions swirling around her, and for a brief moment, her mother felt a pang of guilt for involving her in a world she was too young to understand.

It was then that Daniel returned. The afternoon errands had taken longer than expected.

The dresses were neatly folded in a bag, and the lunch he had bought for Mia was tucked carefully in another.

His steps were hurried, almost urgent, as he approached the ward. When he opened the door, his eyes widened for just a fraction of a second, then narrowed in silent observation.

There they were—his ex-wife, seated beside his daughter, feeding her spaghetti. Richard stood casually behind her, his posture relaxed in a space that Daniel had once felt belonged only to him.

For a heartbeat, Daniel felt a jolt of disbelief. His chest tightened, his stomach fluttered uncomfortably.

He had promised himself he would stay calm, protect Mia’s sense of safety, and not let his emotions take over.

So he acted as if nothing had happened. He deliberately ignored Richard, refusing to acknowledge him in any way.

His ex-wife noticed the coldness in his gaze, the tension in his posture, but she said nothing, choosing instead to continue feeding Mia. The silence stretched for a tense moment before she finally spoke.

“I went to the cashier to pay the money,” she said carefully, her eyes fixed on Daniel. “I know you couldn’t afford it. But I was told it was already settled. How did you do it?”

Mia’s small voice piped up, bright with excitement.

“Mom, dad is now a big—”

Daniel immediately cut her off, holding up a hand.

“A friend of mine lent me the money,” he said calmly, carefully protecting the truth from his daughter. His tone was measured, but under it lay a current of anger and frustration he barely contained.

Richard chuckled quietly behind them, a short, sharp laugh that grated against Daniel’s nerves.

“Which of your broke friends would lend you fifty million dollars?” he said mockingly, letting the words linger in the air.

All eyes turned to Daniel’s ex-wife, who waited silently, anticipating his response.

Daniel’s expression hardened, his jaw tight. “

That’s none of your business,” he said firmly, his voice low but edged with anger.

“Remember, we are no longer together.”

Mia tilted her head, confusion knitting her small brow. Her voice trembled slightly as she asked, “Dad… what do you mean you and mom are no longer together?”