WIFE KICKED MILLIONAIRE MEDICAL GOD HUSBAND

The Amsterdam skyline glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Elise Van der Meer’s penthouse, a cold constellation of steel and glass that mirrored her transformation. Three years ago, Elise had been a dreamer, bound to Lukas Brandt by love and shared struggles. Now, at thirty-two, she was a tech mogul, her name synonymous with innovation and wealth, her empire valued in the billions. The penthouse, perched above the city’s historic canals, showed how far she had come. Tonight, it served as the stage for the end of her marriage.

Lukas Brandt stood in the center of the living room, his broad shoulders tense, his hands clenched at his sides. At thirty-five, he carried the rugged charm of a man who had worked his way through life’s trenches. His dark hair was a bit messy, his jaw firm, but his hazel eyes showed he was confused and hurt. He had been summoned here, not by Elise, but by her assistant, Margot, whose heels made clicking sounds on the shiny wooden floor as she walked back and forth.

“You’re a stain, Lukas,” Margot said. She adjusted her sleek blazer, her neat blonde bob looked perfect in the light from the chandelier. “Elise’s world is global, pristine. You’re... an echo from a past she can’t carry forward.”

Lukas’s gaze hardened. “A stain?” His voice was low and controlled, but the tone was unmistakable. “I pulled her family out of debt. I was there when she had nothing. And now I’m disposable?”

Margot’s lips curled into a thin smile. “Don’t take it personally, it’s business. She’s offering you a clean exit.” She slid a manila envelope across the glass coffee table. “A canal-side villa, a Maserati, ten million euros. Sign the papers, Lukas, and walk away.”

He stared at the envelope, his chest tightening. The offer was very generous, even too much, but it felt like a bribe to erase him. Three years ago, Elise had looked at him with fire in her eyes, promising they’d build a future together. Now, she wouldn’t even face him. “I’m not signing anything until she tells me herself,” he said, his voice was calm but laced with defiance. “She owes me that.”

Margot sighed, her manicured nails tapping the table. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.” She pulled out her phone, typed a quick message, and slipped it back into her pocket. “Fine. She’ll be here.”

Lukas looked out the window at the canal below. The dark water moved gently under the streetlights. He remembered the nights he and Elise walked there, her smile lighting up the nights as they planned a life together. He had been her anchor when her family’s textile business collapsed, working grueling hours to keep them afloat while she coded her first app in their cramped apartment. That app had sparked her empire, and he had cheered her on, believing their bond was unbreakable. Now, he wondered if he’d been naive.

The elevator dinged, and Elise walked into the room. She looked in control—wearing a neat navy suit that showed off her tall figure, her auburn hair pulled back perfectly. Her green eyes, which used to be kind, now carried contempt.

“Elise,” he said, his voice trembling even though he tried to keep it steady.

“Lukas.” Her tone was neutral, professional, as if addressing a stranger. She glanced at Margot, who nodded and retreated to the edge of the room. Elise’s eyes returned to Lukas, unwavering. “You wanted to see me. Here I am.”

He stepped closer, searching her face for a trace of the woman he’d loved. “Three years, Elise. Three years, and you send your assistant to end it? You think a villa and ten million euros erase what we had?”

Her expression didn’t falter, but her fingers tightened around the strap of her leather clutch. “What we had was a moment,” she said. “A chapter. It’s closed now. My world… it’s bigger than us. Wealth is power, Lukas, and I can’t afford distractions.”

“Distractions?” The word hit him like a slap. “I was your husband. I stood by you when you were drowning in debt. I believed in you.”

“And I’m grateful,” she said, her voice cool but not cruel. “But gratitude doesn’t change reality. You’re beneath me now—not in worth, but in scope. My empire demands my focus. You don’t fit.”

The words hurt worse than Margot’s insults. Lukas’s hand brushed the pocket of his jacket, where he kept his grandfather’s pocket watch. It was a simple thing, brass and worn, engraved with the initials of the man who had raised him. Elise had loved its story, once, holding it as they lay in bed, whispering about legacy and love. Now, it felt like the last tether to their past.

“Then why am I here?” he asked, his voice raw. “Why not just mail the papers?”

Elise hesitated, a flicker of something—regret, perhaps—crossing her face. She set her clutch on the table and reached into it, producing a small velvet box. “This,” she said, opening it to reveal the pocket watch. “It’s yours. I found it in my things. It belongs with you.”

He took the watch, his fingers brushing hers for a fleeting moment. Her skin was warm, a cruel reminder of intimacy lost. The engraving gleamed under the light: “J.B. 1947”. His grandfather’s initials, a relic of a man who had taught him loyalty, love and endurance. Lukas’s throat tightened as he closed his hand around it.

“You kept it,” he said, almost a whisper. “Why?”

“It was a mistake,” she replied, her voice barely audible. “I don’t hold onto the past.” She straightened, her composure returning like a shield. “Sign the papers, Lukas. We’re strangers now.”

He looked at the envelope on the table, the weight of her words settling over him. Strangers. The woman he’d loved, the woman he’d saved, stood before him as if they’d never shared a life. He opened the envelope, scanned the terms—villa, car, money, a sterile exchange for their vows. Then, he signed his name carefully. 

Elise watched, her expression unreadable, though her eyes lingered on the watch in his hand. “You’ll be fine,” she said, almost gently. “You always are.”