Trading Up: Divorcing the Supermodel

I stood outside the halfopen bedroom door, listening to my supermodel husband—the guy with over a million followers—joking around on speakerphone with his bros.

He scoffed arrogantly, bragging that a boring woman like me, who only ever wore basic business suits, could never make him give up the entire forest out there.

Hearing that, I clamped down hard on my mouth, terrified I might actually burst out laughing from the sheer thrill of it.

I was already sick to death of sleeping with that pretty face anyway. Finally, I had the perfect excuse to drop the divorce papers. Chapter 1 Midnight.

Declan—who had been MIA for two months and missed our anniversary—was back. Halfasleep, I was flipped over.

Right before my face was pressed into the pillow, I caught a sharp whiff of perfume. Bold. Aggressive. Just like Declan. Except, it was a woman's perfume.

I struggled to look back over my shoulder. Moonlight caught the sharp, flawless angles of his jaw. His Adam's apple bobbed.

Underneath his unbuttoned dress shirt, the tight cords of his arm muscles and the deep V of his Apollo's belt flexed in the shadows. He reeked of heavy cologne and cheap vodka.

His eyes were dark, burning with a raw heat that threatened to scorch me alive. No wonder toptier fashion magazines had crowned him "Sexiest Man Alive" three years running.

When he caught sight of my face, Declan stalled. The haze in his eyes cleared a fraction, the raw intensity from seconds ago dialing back. But he didn't pull away.

Every place his skin touched mine erupted in goosebumps, like being shoved under a harsh, clinical spotlight. My muscles seized. My first instinct was to bolt.

Instead, I let my spine soften against the mattress, relaxing my grip on the sheets.

I pitched my voice into a sickeningly sweet, artificial purr. "Baby, what are you doing home so early? I missed you so much.

I was so distracted I didn't even eat dinner." That shattered the mood instantly. Declan stopped entirely.

He pushed off the bed, swiping his pack of cigarettes from the nightstand. "Are you a toddler?" he muttered. "You don't know how to feed yourself?" I let out a slow, silent breath.

The ridiculous excuse had worked perfectly. Logically, a guy like Declan—a notorious player who had been around the block a thousand times—should have seen right through that lie.

But I had spent years playing the role of his obsessed, devoted wife.

I had chased him for three years, watching his rotation of girlfriends cycle through like a revolving door, and never backed down.

Declan himself once called me the most persistent stagefive clinger he'd ever met. I settled back under the covers. Declan stepped out onto the balcony to smoke.

His muffled voice drifted back through the glass as he answered a call. "Declan, man, you haven't been out in forever.

You actually staying loyal to the wife?" Declan let out a harsh scoff. "A basic woman like her? What makes you think she has what it takes to tie me down?

Honestly, the first time we hooked up, I could barely force myself to kiss her." Laughter erupted from the other end of the line. "Keep it down," Declan snapped. "It's the middle of the night.

She's asleep." I was drifting off when Declan finally finished his cigarette and came back inside. He dropped a small velvet box on the pillow next to my head.

Fighting sleep, I cracked an eye open to look. It was a pair of diamond earrings. Stunning.

Or, they would have been, if I hadn't already seen the matching necklace from that exact designer line—the one that cost ten times as much.

These earrings were just the complimentary gift with purchase. But I wasn't angry. Not even a little. Instead, a sharp jolt of anticipation shot through me. It had been a year.

Since our wedding, Declan had played the part of the tamed husband almost perfectly. Finally, his mask was slipping. Mine was, too.

I played it straight and narrow, but I was ruthlessly obsessed with aesthetics. I was averagelooking, but I only wanted toptier men.

The mere thought of some ugly guy grunting on top of me was enough to make me want to blow my brains out.

That was why I used my elite investment banking resume and coldblooded business tactics to claw my way up to an executive suite on Wall Street.

I threw money and resources around to buy myself this flawless, highsociety life. And I used them to buy Declan—my most dazzling trophy.

But the second I laid eyes on Declan, I knew it still wasn't nearly enough.

Chapter 2 I spent my days pulling allnighters closing mergers and acquisitions, strongarming ruthless Wall Street tycoons.

Finally, at a young age, I made partner at a toptier Manhattan investment firm. That was when I finally had the leverage to go after Declan.

While I was pursuing him, people tried setting me up on other dates. I went along with it. But every single one only hardened my resolve to get Declan.

After every disastrous date, I'd go find him just to cleanse my eyes. One time, it was 2 AM. He needed a designated driver, and I showed up without a second thought.

Declan looked at me and asked, "Are you really that obsessed with me?" When he asked that, there was a dropdead gorgeous woman passed out in the passenger seat of his convertible, her dress slipping half off her shoulder.

I nodded hard, without a sliver of hesitation. Because I refused to settle for ugly. I said, "Declan, I love you." They say everyone loves beauty.

That's exactly how the phrase should be used. Using it to describe slapping on some makeup and a pretty dress is just shallow. No matter what I looked like, I loved myself.

Declan burst out laughing at my sudden confession. The wind whipped his messy hair back, exposing his sharp, narrow eyes and thick lashes. He was almost illegally beautiful.

I halfsuspected he'd had work done, but I didn't care. His knuckles, flushed slightly pink, held a slim menthol cigarette.

The ash fell to the ground as his chest shook with laughter. "Sloane, you're the first person to make me laugh in weeks." Yeah. Even my name was aggressively normal.

But from that night on, he started giving me a little something back.

It went from him rejecting my invitations ten times out of ten, to him actually saying yes once or twice if he was in a good mood.

Sometimes, he'd even stoop to eating the meals I brought him. And eventually, we ended up together.

It wasn't some fairytale romance where he was moved by my devotion and reformed his playboy ways.

He was just tired of playing the field, and his family was breathing down his neck to settle down.

I had an Ivy League background, an incredible roster of client resources, and I knew how to work a room at a highsociety business dinner.

Aside from Declan himself, his entire bankrupt family was dying to get me through the door. I didn't give a damn about his reasons.

All I cared about was that I'd never have to have nightmares about an ugly husband and an ugly kid ever again.

The day I posted our engagement photo on Instagram—the one where I was wearing a fivecarat diamond ring—a deep, satisfying heat settled in my chest.

I viciously shoved it in the faces of all those hypocritical socialites who had mocked me for being married to my job. At the wedding.

Staring at Declan's face—a literal masterpiece crafted by the gods—my entire body flushed hot with excitement.

The faint outline of his eightpack abs pressed against his tailored shirt, taunting me.

When the priest announced we could kiss, I deliberately let my bright red lips brush against his jawline.

If only I could tie him to the headboard with a silk tie and play some Fifty Shades of Grey games… Just thinking about it made my knees weak. Declan didn't notice a thing.

After all, I played the good girl so well. His kiss was phoned in. All technique, zero emotion. I didn't care. I could make my own fun. That night.

A rush of pure dopamine hit my system, making my chest buzz so hard I thought I would explode. My heart felt like a sponge soaking up pure spring water. I let out a satisfied sigh.

The only downside was that Declan wasn't exactly generous in bed. He didn't spare a single thought for my pleasure.

But then again, I was probably the ugliest woman he'd ever slept with. Outside.

The streetlights looked like artificial stars, making up for the fact that the city had drowned out the real night sky.

I traced the line of Declan's brow as he slept, a smile tugging at my lips. Those sharp, thick eyebrows. That high bridge of his nose. The perfect curve of his thin lips.

He was so fucking gorgeous. Betterlooking than any Alist actor out there. Aside from the fact that he didn't love me, he was a walking masterpiece. Chapter 3 Whatever.

Nobody was perfect. As long as his face wasn't ruined, I loved him. We straightlaced girls were just fiercely loyal like that. But was it really love I felt for Declan?

The next morning. When I woke up, Declan was still asleep. His phone lit up with a barrage of notifications. The profile pictures and handles screamed Instagram model.

As for the messages themselves, I didn't bother reading them. I simply played the considerate wife and plugged his dying phone into the charger.

As I climbed over him, his hand shot out and gripped my ankle. Without even opening his eyes, he yanked me backward.

I fell hard against his chest. "Take care of this for me." His morning voice was rough with sleep, obscenely deep and sexy.

A year ago, I would have been thrilled and pounced on him in a heartbeat. But now. I fought back the physical reaction, coldly shoving his hand away. "Sorry.

I have a tenmilliondollar merger to negotiate today. I don't have time to entertain your morning workout." Declan's expression darkened instantly.

Before I left, I made sure to tell him, "Declan, I'm heading out on a business trip for three days.

Take care of yourself." Afraid he hadn't heard me, I texted him the exact same thing. But I still wasn't completely reassured. I remembered he had my notifications muted.

So, I shot a text to one of his scumbag friends: [I'm heading out of town for three days. Keep an eye on Declan for me. Thanks. :)] I arrived at the firm right on time.

That evening, I stayed late at the office. A senior partner even walked by my desk to check on me. "Sloane, your trip got pushed back anyway.

You don't need to kill yourself prepping those files tonight. Go home early." "I'll leave as soon as I finish this portfolio," I replied.

Despite saying that, I didn't actually clock out until 10:30 PM. 10:30 PM. I pulled up the security camera app on my phone. A woman was knocking on the door of our penthouse.

When the door opened, Declan was standing there in nothing but sweatpants. The woman looked up at him coyly. Declan swept his gaze over her, then stepped aside to let her in.

I slammed my foot on the gas pedal. Don't panic. Don't rush. Declan's stamina wasn't that impressive anyway. 11:00 PM. I pulled up to the front door.

My hand actually shook as I reached for the keypad, punching in the wrong code on the first try. I pushed the door open. The foyer was a total wreck. Lace panties.

Shredded thighhigh stockings. It was a filthy, undeniable scene. For a straightlaced woman like me, it was a massive shock to the system.

But it seemed Declan was even faster than I had anticipated. The bedroom door suddenly jerked open right in front of me. A stark naked woman stumbled backward into the hallway.

She whined at the person inside, "Declan, I flew all the way out here for you. Don't kick me out so fast.

Whatever twisted games you're into, I can do them…" His answer was a lacy bra thrown directly at her face. "I wired you the flight money.

Get the hell out," Declan drawled, strolling lazily out of the bedroom. The woman still wouldn't give up. "If you're not feeling me, I've got a friend. Dropdead gorgeous.

Let me show you her picture! She's at a club right down the street. We could all go out and play…" Declan lifted his heavy eyelids, glancing down at the photo on her screen.

Before he could even open his mouth to reply, his gaze shifted upward. And he locked eyes with me. Chapter 4 The woman's voice died instantly. Dead silence filled the room.

Right before she stepped out, she threw over her shoulder, "I sent you the address! Get there soon!" Declan slammed the door shut in her face.

He turned to face me. "Why are you back early? Did you eat? What do you want?

I'll order delivery." His expression remained smooth, not a single muscle twitching with the guilt of being caught redhanded. But he was talking way more than usual.

I didn't say a single word. Declan walked over to rummage through the coffee table drawer for a cigarette. A memory suddenly surfaced.

Declan was once obsessed with an exgirlfriend. She hated the smell of smoke and straightup told him she refused to inhale secondhand smoke.

Declan actually quit for her during that time. Too bad she moved abroad for her career, and the long distance killed it.

If they hadn't broken up, I probably never would have entered the picture. Since then, Declan hadn't quit smoking for anyone—and certainly not for me.

But I refused to breathe in secondhand smoke either, so I made a habit of sweeping the apartment and tossing his packs. Declan came up emptyhanded.

He ran a hand aggressively through his hair. A few seconds later, he grabbed my waist, yanking me against his chest, and crashed his mouth down on mine. I kept my eyes wide open.

I saw the look on his face—like a martyr stepping up to the guillotine. I shoved him hard. Declan's jaw clenched.

A muscle ticked in his cheek, a silent testament to a man unaccustomed to the word no.

Especially not by a painfully average woman like me. "Who was that?" I demanded. "Who do you think?" Impatience flashed in his eyes. "Sloane, who gave you the right to snap at me?" "Don't forget, you were the one who threw toptier endorsement deals and business resources at me just to get my attention!

You knew exactly what my lifestyle was.

Why are you playing the innocent victim now?" A tear escaped, sliding down my cheek, but I let out a harsh laugh. "I accepted watching the guy I was chasing cycle through endless girlfriends.

But I never said I accepted my husband fucking other women." More tears hit the floor. Declan's hand twitched. Something shifted in his face.

But a second later, he crossed his arms. "What's the difference? If you can't handle it, file for divorce." He dropped the word "divorce" like it weighed nothing.

Exactly the same way he used to drop "breakup" on all his exes. He was banking on the fact that I couldn't bear to let him go. He expected me to cry, to scream, to beg him to stay.

Just like his exes did. Maybe even worse. Once upon a time, I believed that, too. Outside, a streetlight must have shortcircuited.

It flickered on and off, looking even more like a star in the skyline.

But around four or five in the morning, those lights always shut off entirely, snapping you back to cold reality. It was worse than Cinderella turning back into a maid at midnight.

At least she was actually a genuine, kindhearted beauty underneath it all. I let the silence stretch, then spoke, my voice stripped of all warmth. "Okay." Declan froze.

Before he could process what I meant, I finished the thought. "Let's get a divorce, Declan." Declan's features twisted into a snarl so vicious, my muscles instinctively coiled, bracing for an impact.

Instead, he let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Wow. Okay, Sloane. You've got nerve!" "Don't come crawling back to me like a pathetic dog when you regret this!

I'm dumping you!" He snatched his phone off the counter, hitting the speaker button as he stormed toward the door. "Send me that address again.

I'm on my way." The heavy bass of club music blasted through the speaker, followed by that same woman's voice. "Hurry up! My friend heard you're coming, and she's obsessed.

We can do a three—" Chapter 5 Declan left without a single backward glance. The heavy door slammed in my face again. The framed wedding photo on the wall shuddered from the impact.

Inside the glass, the devastatingly handsome groom stood arminarm with a bride who only looked halfway decent thanks to highly expensive airbrushing.

The bride stared at the groom, her eyes practically overflowing with devotion. The groom stared dead at the camera, his expression blank, laced with a faint trace of irritation.

A total mismatch, no matter how you looked at it. Good thing it was finally over. I let out a long breath, my tense muscles finally uncoiling.

Actually, I had lied to Declan about one more thing. My business trip wasn't going to be three days. It was three years