When the Billionaire Regretted His Ex-Wife's Million-Dollar Glow-Up

In front of his precious first love, Melanie, my husband laughed and said my stomach looked like I was five months pregnant.

Melanie giggled, leaning softly into his chest. She glanced at me with a smirk, though her voice remained sweet and gentle.

Oh, Chloe, sweetie. Women really need to take care of their bodies. Otherwise, how do you expect to keep your mans heart?

She offered a card. "How about I recommend my personal trainer to you?"

I smiled and took the card. "Sure, why not?"

The very next day, I maxed out my husband's black card. I booked the most expensive personal trainer in the city, the highest-end skincare package, and bought the luxury watch hed been eyeing for three years but was too stingy to buy.

He was furious. "Are you out of your absolute mind?"

I admired my freshly done manicure and replied slowly, "Didnt you say I was fat and old, Ethan? Im doing all of this for you."

***

Ethan Thornes face was as dark as a thundercloud. He stared at the watch box on the table for ten solid seconds, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull.

"Chloe Sinclair, do you have any idea how much this watch costs?"

I looked up and gave him a sweet, innocent smile. "Of course. Three hundred and eighty thousand dollars. Its been sitting in your shopping cart for three years. Every time we passed the boutique, you couldn't take your eyes off it."

"Then why the hell did you buy it?"

He slammed his hand on the table. His coffee cup jumped, spilling dark liquid across the marble surface. "You spent my money to buy a gift for me? Chloe, did you get dropped on your head, or are you just stupid?"

I calmly grabbed a tissue and wiped up the spilled coffee.

"Didn't you say I was fat, old, and had terrible taste?" I balled up the tissue and tossed it perfectly into the trash can. "Im just trying to fix that. A personal trainer costs money, right? Skincare treatments cost money, right? If Im going to present myself well, I need the right wardrobe, don't I?"

Ethans face turned from red to a sickly pale green.

"A three-hundred-and-eighty-thousand-dollar watch is part of your wardrobe? Who do you think you are? A Kardashian?"

I tilted my head, blinking at him. "Im Mrs. Thorne. Surely the wife of Ethan Thorne is worth that much?"

He froze, completely speechless.

Taking advantage of his silence, I pulled up the receipt for the trainer on my phone and held it in front of his face.

"Oh, by the way, I booked three hundred sessions with the trainer. Hes the top celebrity coach in the city, eighty dollars an hour. I also got the diamond-tier annual skincare package for ninety-eight thousand dollars. And I signed up for a style-consulting course to learn how to dress and do makeup. That was sixty thousand."

"You"

"Melanie Crawford recommended all of it to me, actually." I smiled sweetly. "She was right. I really need to manage my image. You always say Im not as elegant as her, so Im just trying to learn from her."

Ethan was literally shaking with rage.

He snatched my phone, scrolling through the bank alerts. His expression grew worse by the second.

"Chloe, you spent over six hundred thousand dollars in a single day?"

I rested my chin on my hand, looking at him innocently. "You always complained that I didn't know how to spend money. Now I do."

"You don't know shit!"

He slammed the phone onto the couch and pointed a finger at my face. "This isn't spending money! This is burning it! Do you think my money just grows on trees?"

I stopped smiling and stood up slowly.

"Ethan, when you took Melanie to Paris to buy those designer bags, one of them cost thirty thousand dollars. The luxury apartment you rent for her is eight thousand a month. And that sports car you bought her? Two hundred thousand. Tell me, did that money grow on trees?"

His mouth opened, but no words came out.

"What? Its totally fine to throw millions at another woman, but it hurts when your own wife spends a dime?"

I picked up the watch box and shoved it into his hands. "Take it. You love it, don't you? Consider your three-year dream fulfilled."

### Chapter 2

Ethan held the watch box, his face turning various shades of red and white.

I grabbed my designer purse and headed for the door, my brand-new heels clicking loudly against the floor.

"Where do you think you're going?" he shouted after me.

"To my first training session," I replied without looking back. "You hate my stomach, right? I'm going to go work it off."

The moment the door slammed shut, I heard something shatter inside.

Probably his coffee cup.

I didn't care. I pressed the elevator button.

Downstairs, a private chauffeur was already waiting in a sleek town caralso hired using Ethan's black card.

I used to drive myself everywhere. But Melanie had mentioned that real high-society ladies always sit in the back. They never grip the steering wheel themselves.

I thought she was absolutely right.

After all, it wasn't my money.

The gym was located in the most exclusive part of the city. The annual membership alone was eighteen thousand dollars.

I had mentioned wanting to join this gym before, but Ethan had dismissed it as a waste of money, telling me to just jog around the neighborhood.

Well, look at me now. Not only was I here, but I had also bought the most expensive package they offered.

My trainer was a gorgeous man in his early thirties named Ryan Brooks. He looked like he had just walked off the cover of a fitness magazine.

He wore a tight black athletic shirt that showed off his perfectly sculpted muscles.

"Mrs. Thorne, lets start with a fitness assessment," Ryan said, his voice warm and polite as he handed me a clipboard.

As I was filling out the form, my phone buzzed.

It was a Snapchat message from Melanie.

*Chloe, sweetie! I heard you signed up for personal training? Thats amazing! A woman should always invest in herself. By the way, is Ethan mad? He called me earlier and sounded really upset.*

I stared at the message for two seconds and smiled.

She was trying to gloat.

I typed back: *Mad? Not at all. He actually praised me for finally being sensible. He even said hes giving me an unlimited black card so I can spend whatever I want.*

The other side was silent for a long time.

I added another message: *By the way, Melanie, what was the name of that skin-tightening treatment you mentioned? Thermage? I want to get it done. After all, a woman has to invest in herself, right?*

This time, she replied quickly: *Oh yes! Thermage is amazing. Ive done it three times. If you go, I can introduce you to my doctor. He can give you a twenty percent discount!*

*No need for a discount,* I replied, leaning back in my chair with a grin. *Ethan told me not to worry about saving money. He wants me to spend as much as I want.*

The typing bubble appeared and disappeared several times. Finally, she sent back a single smiling emoji.

I put my phone face down on the table and began my fitness assessment.

Ryan measured my waist and said, "Mrs. Thorne, your foundation is actually great. Your body fat is just slightly high. With the right diet and training, youll see incredible results in three months."

"No rush," I said, looking at my soft belly in the mirror. "We can take our time. I have all the time in the world."

And more importantly, I had the money.

### Chapter 3

After leaving the gym, I went straight to the luxury mall.

I remembered Melanie showing off a Bvlgari necklace on her Instagram story a few weeks ago. It was worth about twenty thousand dollars.

I walked into the boutique, picked out a limited-edition piece worth thirty-two thousand dollars, and told the sales assistant to wrap it up.

The assistant beamed. "Mrs. Thorne, you have exquisite taste. This is our limited-edition piece for the season."

I swiped the card and glanced at a diamond bracelet in the display case.

"Pack that one too."

"Of course, Mrs. Thorne! This bracelet is eighteen thousand"

"You don't need to tell me the price," I interrupted with a smile. "I'm not the one paying anyway."

The assistant blinked, and then her smile grew even wider.

She probably thought I was some rich man's spoiled mistress.

I didn't care.

I walked out of the mall carrying the luxury bags, the warm evening sun hitting my face.

Squinting against the light, I remembered the day I married Ethan three years ago. He had stood at the altar, looking golden and perfect in the sunlight.

He had held my hand and promised in front of everyone that he would love me forever.

It had only been three years, and now he was praising another woman's body while telling me my stomach looked like I was five months pregnant.

A man's promises really are worthless.

When I got home, Ethan was sitting in the living room, smoking.

The room was filled with haze, and the ashtray on the coffee table was overflowing with cigarette butts.

He saw me walk in, stubbed out his cigarette, and stood up instantly.

"Chloe, stop right there!"

I took off my shoes, set the shopping bags down, and walked over unhurriedly.

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" He let out a harsh laugh and shoved his phone in front of my face. "Look at how much you spent today! Six hundred thousand wasn't enough, so you went and spent another fifty thousand? Are you trying to drive me into bankruptcy?"

I glanced at the screen. Oh, it was a bank alert.

"The necklace and the bracelet," I said casually. "I saw Melanie wearing something similar and thought it looked nice. So I got myself some." I paused, then added, "But mine is limited edition. It costs ten thousand more than hers."

Ethan's face contorted with anger.

"Why are you comparing yourself to her? Do you have any idea that what you spent today is equivalent to three months of my company's net profit?"

"Then stop spending money on Melanie," I said, sitting on the couch and crossing my legs. "If you stop giving her money, there will be plenty for me to spend."

"You!"

He was speechless with rage. He paced around the living room twice before pointing at me again. "Chloe, I'm warning you. If you spend another dime without my permission, I will freeze your cards!"

I looked up and smiled at him.

"Go ahead. Freeze them."

He froze.

"If you do, I'll just go to the media. 'The CEO of Thorne Enterprises is so broke he can't even afford his wife's lifestyle.' How does that sound?"