After Divorce, She Became a Global Sensation and Won't Forgive Her Groveling Husband and Son

"She’s probably very busy." Vincent Grant looked up from a pile of documents, adjusted his rimless glasses, and thought for a moment before speaking.

Even with only five satellites left, that was more than enough to keep her busy.

Cedric Grant pouted.

’How busy is "very busy"?’

’So busy she won’t even answer my calls?’

’Doesn’t she care that I’m sick?’

Mom used to work and update Rocket Planet at the same time, but she still made time for him.

She would tell him a story every night.

She would even sing to him.

When his stomach hurt, she would rub it for him all night long.

’Why can’t she make time now?’

The more he thought about it, the more he wished Sophia Shaw would come be with him.

"Dad, I want Mom’s porridge."

Vincent Grant rubbed his brow and picked up the phone in front of him.

Sophia Shaw had blocked him, so there was no way to get in touch.

She was incredibly temperamental these days.

Vincent Grant had no choice but to grab his work phone and send Sophia Shaw a message: No matter how angry you are, don’t ignore your son. His weak stomach is acting up again.

Seeing Vincent Grant message Sophia Shaw, Cedric Grant patiently began to wait again.

But after more than ten minutes, neither his nor Vincent Grant’s phone had rung.

Cedric Grant finally couldn’t hold it in anymore, and tears started streaming down his face.

Just as Vincent Grant was about to speak, the doorbell rang.

"Miss Sherman, what brings you here so late?"

The housekeeper opened the door and greeted her warmly.

Ever since Sophia Shaw had moved out, Vincent Grant had hired a housekeeper to take care of Cedric Grant’s daily needs.

Hearing that Joanna Sherman had arrived, Cedric Grant frantically wiped away his tears.

He didn’t want Auntie Joanna to see him looking so weak.

’Auntie Joanna wouldn’t like a crybaby.’

Afraid Joanna Sherman would see his red, puffy eyes, Cedric Grant flopped down on the bed and pulled the covers over his head, pretending to be asleep.

"I’m here to get some documents signed." Joanna Sherman gestured to the files she was holding.

"Oh, I’ll ask him to meet you in the study," the housekeeper said.

"No need, I’ll go to the room." Joanna Sherman walked to the doorway, just as Vincent Grant was coming out.

He was wearing a pair of rimless glasses, which added a refined, cool aloofness to his handsome face, making him all the more striking.

The superior genes of the Grant Family were on full display in him.

Joanna Sherman felt her heart flutter at the mere sight of him.

Vincent Grant was the most physically attractive man she had ever met. Even as a father of two, he still carried none of the typical air of fatherhood.

He was as clean-cut and otherworldly as ever.

’A man like that is the only one worthy of me, Joanna Sherman.’

"How is Cedric? Is he feeling any better?" Joanna Sherman asked with concern.

"Much better." Vincent Grant shifted back slightly. It wasn’t obvious, but he subtly maintained a polite distance.

Joanna Sherman peered inside.

She saw the slight mound under the covers.

From under the covers, Cedric Grant’s muffled voice called out, "Auntie Joanna, I’m okay. You can go do your work."

Joanna Sherman went in anyway.

She freed a hand to feel his forehead, then helped pull up his blanket.

She placed a black bag on the table. "I had an old traditional doctor prescribe this medicine. It works wonders for soothing the stomach. I’ll have the housekeeper warm up a pouch for you to drink."

"Thank you, Auntie Joanna."

Peeking from under the covers, Cedric Grant saw the dark liquid in the pouch but didn’t feel as happy as he usually did when receiving a gift from Joanna Sherman.

’If Mom were here, she would have brought me fragrant, soft pastries that are good for my stomach, not this dark, murky stuff.’

"Let’s discuss work in the study," Vincent Grant said.

Joanna Sherman still handed the small medicine pouch to the housekeeper, instructing her to be sure to heat the doses in order, before finally going to the study with Vincent Grant.

"These all need your signature." Joanna Sherman handed a thick stack of documents to Vincent Grant.

Vincent Grant took them, his eyes scanning ten lines at a glance. "You could have just had Joel Hale send these over. There was no need for you to make the trip yourself."

"He’s busy. Besides, since Cedric is unwell, I wanted to come see him."

Vincent Grant gave her a deep look but said nothing. He picked up the pen on the desk and signed his name.

He checked each document before signing.

In a flash, only two documents remained.

A glint appeared in Joanna Sherman’s eyes as her gaze fell on the last document.

Just as Vincent Grant finished signing the second-to-last document and was about to lift the final one, a sudden GUSHING sound came from the next room.

"Oh no, Cedric threw up!"

Vincent Grant’s hand, poised to turn the page, froze. He looked outside.

Joanna Sherman pressed her fingers down, covering the top half of the document and leaving only the signature line exposed. "This is just a routine transfer order. We already discussed it last time."

"Just sign it."

Vincent Grant grunted in acknowledgment, raised his hand, and signed his name.

He dropped the pen and strode out of the study.

A moment later, Joanna Sherman walked to Cedric Grant’s room, holding the documents.

The vomit had been cleaned up, and Cedric Grant had just changed his clothes.

He was rinsing his mouth with water.

"What happened? Was there something wrong with the herbal medicine?"

Cedric Grant, his eyes teary from vomiting, shook his head. "It wasn’t the medicine. It’s just my acid reflux. Auntie Joanna, your medicine is great, and I’m not afraid of the bitter taste."

’I can’t let Auntie Joanna know I’m a useless kid who’s afraid of bitter things.’

Cedric Grant’s stomach was still churning, but he fought it down and pretended to be fine as he said goodbye to Joanna Sherman. "Auntie Joanna, don’t worry. I’ll be better soon."

"Good. You threw up the last dose, so you’ll have to drink another one. Don’t forget."

"Auntie has to get back to work now. I’ll video call you tonight."

Joanna Sherman clicked out the door in her high heels and got into her car.

Only when she was shielded from all eyes did she pull out the last document, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

She made a call to Joel Hale. "President Grant has signed all the documents. Have the lawyers follow up and get the certificate he wants processed as soon as possible!"

"Understood," Joel Hale replied. "President Grant said to give Miss Shaw ten million. How should we inform her?"

A cold smile touched Joanna Sherman’s lips.

"I’ll deliver it to her personally."

"Very well."

"Also," Joanna Sherman’s eyes darkened, "once you get the divorce certificate, don’t give it to President Grant. I’ll keep it for him."

Joel Hale paused for a moment.

But then he considered their unusual relationship and figured there was nothing wrong with her keeping Vincent Grant’s divorce certificate for him. "I’ll inform the lawyers," he replied.

"And one more thing. Make sure no negative news gets out."

"I understand."

’Vincent Grant’s divorce is no small matter. If word gets out, it will affect the stock price.’

’Besides, the relationship between Joanna Sherman and Vincent Grant is ambiguous. If this leaks now, people will get the wrong idea about her.’

’This must be President Grant’s concern, and he’s just having Ms. Sherman relay the message.’

After giving these two instructions, Joanna Sherman drove away.

「Back in the house.」

The housekeeper, Sister Moss, finished cleaning up the vomit, came outside, and threw the soiled items in the trash can.

A stray dog, attracted by the smell, stood nearby, eyeing the trash covetously.

As soon as Sister Moss took a couple of steps back, it rushed over, snatched something from inside, and began to eat.

Sister Moss felt her stomach turn at the sight. She quickly covered her mouth and started to walk away.

BLECH—

She hadn’t gone far when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the stray dog leaning against the trash can, throwing up what it had just eaten.

"What the...?"

’Could it be that there was medicine in the vomit, and the dog couldn’t handle it?’

Sister Moss took two steps closer and picked up the herbal medicine pouch.

Holding it up to the light, she discovered what seemed to be a tiny pinprick next to the sealed edge of the pouch.

It was clearly man-made.

’Could it be...?’