LAPDOG HUSBAND IS A TRILLIONAIRE HEIR

Yemin Ravollor stood motionless in his living room, the evening sun casting long shadows across the imported marble floors of their penthouse.

 Spread across the mahogany coffee table, evidence of his wife's betrayal lay in stark detail – surveillance photos, hotel receipts, and a record of calls that painted an undeniable picture of infidelity.

Katherine strode in, still wearing her tailored Chanel suit from the office, her Louboutin heels clicking against the floor with practiced authority. 

"Well, well," she drawled, regarding him with disgust,manicured fingers trailing across the photos. 

"So you've been crawling around gathering intel like a little roach, have you? How fitting for someone of your... position."

The photos showed her entering the Grand Plaza Hotel with James Franx, her arm wrapped intimately around his waist, her smile more genuine than any she'd given Yemin in months.

  "I deserve an explanation, Katherine."A sharp pain twisted in Yemin’s chest, but he forced his voice to remain steady.

"An explanation?" She laughed, the sound sharp as breaking glass. 

"Fine, I'll explain it slowly so even an insect like you can understand. You're worthless to me now. I need someone who can actually contribute to my success, not just lurk in the shadows like a household pest."

"Contribute?" Yemin’s voice dropped to a dangerously low register, his hands clenching into fists. "I have supported your every move for five years."

"Oh, darling," Katherine sneered, her voice dripping with theatrical pity. 

"Let me educate you about what real contribution looks like. Just this week alone, James secured three major international contracts worth billions. Do you even understand what that means? No, of course you don't – you're too busy dusting furniture."

She began pacing, her movements precise and predatory.

 "James introduced me to the Bennett family at the Monaco Yacht Club – they invested fifty million in our expansion. He arranged a private meeting with the Shaw Corporation's board at their Swiss retreat. And today?" Her eyes glittered with triumph.

 "Today he handed me the Ravol Company partnership that will revolutionize everything."

"And what exactly have you contributed?" Katherine continued, pulling out a thick envelope from her Hermès bag.

"Let's see..." She ticked off points with exaggerated thoughtfulness. "You cook breakfast. You clean the house. You arrange my closet."

"Is that really all you see?" he asked, each word measured despite the rage building in his chest. "Just your personal housekeeper?"

"Oh, darling," Katherine laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Don't tell me I've hurt your feelings. And let's not forget your crowning achievement – you give excellent foot massages."

She stepped closer, patting his cheek condescendingly. "Honestly, I could hire an immigrant maid for a fraction of what I spend on your designer clothes, and she'd probably do a better job. At least she wouldn't hover around like a desperate fly seeking attention."

Yemin caught her wrist mid-motion, his grip firm yet controlled, removing her hand from his face with quiet finality. His eyes bore into hers, and for the first time, she saw something unreadable in them—something dark, something cold.

"So this is all marriage means to you? Money? Power?" His voice was no longer filled with anger but something deeper, something hollow—disgust, betrayal.

As he looked at her, the woman he had once cherished, he felt as if he was staring at a stranger.

She yanked her hand away, sneering as she threw a stack of divorce papers at him. "Face it. You’re nothing but a parasite, feeding off my success. And James? He’s taking me to heights you could never reach. Now sign the damn papers and get out."

Yemin let out a slow, mirthless chuckle, his expression unreadable. "So you really believe all of this was arranged by him?"

Katherine rolled her eyes dramatically. "Of course it was him! Who else could it be? You? Save your pathetic lies."

Yemin’s sneer deepened, but he didn’t bother responding. There was no point.

Without hesitation, he picked up the pen, signing his name with smooth, deliberate strokes. Every movement was precise. Every mark on the paper was a quiet, final farewell.

"As you wish."

Katherine’s smirk wavered for the first time.

"That’s it? No begging?" She raised a perfectly arched brow, genuine surprise flickering through her contempt. "I expected at least some groveling."

Yemin met her gaze, his expression as cold as steel. "You’re not worth it, Katherine."

He turned toward the door, not sparing her another glance. His steps were steady, unwavering.

"You trash! Don’t you dare talk to me like that—!" Her voice rose into a shriek, her carefully composed mask shattering in an instant.

But Yemin was already outside.

A fleet of black Rolls-Royces waited in perfect formation, their polished exteriors gleaming under the evening sun like silent predators.

Men in impeccably tailored suits stood at attention, their movements crisp and disciplined.

"Chairman Ravol," they greeted in unison, their voices echoing with unwavering respect. "The board awaits your return. "

Yemin’s gaze darkened slightly as he stepped forward, never once looking back.

She truly had no idea. Everything she worshipped, everything she believed James had given her—had, in reality, been his doing all along.

And now, she had thrown it all away.