THE DISABLED HEIRESS, MY EX-HUSBAND WOULD PAY DEARLY.
Chapter 30

Chapter 30: Chapter 30

At that moment Cora held her phone with both hands.

"Malisa, I am on my way," she said. Her voice was soft but firm. "Give me a little time. I will reach MK Entertainment very, very soon. I will look at the trouble there and fix it."

On the other end, Malisa felt her heart jump with relief.

Immediately a wide smile lit her face. Cora was known for being strict, smart, and brave. If Cora said she would handle something, then it would be handled. Malisa could almost feel the heavy load slip off her shoulders.

"You are wonderful, Cora," Malisa replied. "Thank you."

Inside her office, Malisa paced in tiny circles. She remembered how shocked she had been that a useless fellow like James had ever gotten close to Cora. James had somehow made Cora into hiding her true name, hiding her bright light, all for his own gain. It still felt strange, even wrong. But those dark days were over. Cora was back. Malisa could not stop smiling.

**

A short while later, a sleek black car stopped in front of the tall glass tower that carried the glowing sign MK Entertainment.

Immediately the doors slid open with a soft hiss, and Cora stepped out. Even dressed in simple clothes, she looked like a queen who had just left her palace. Her long hair brushed her shoulders. Her eyes shone with quiet strength.

The guards at the door hurried to greet her. They bowed their heads and opened the way. News had already spread.

"Miss Cora is coming back." Whispers floated through the hallways like warm wind.

Malisa hurried down the marble steps at the entrance, her heels clicking. When she saw Cora, she raised her hand in a cheerful wave.

"Cora!" she called. Her face glowed as if the sun had slipped right into her. Cora smiled back, and the two women met halfway, hugging for a brief, warm second.

"You made it faster than I thought," Malisa said.

"I told you I would," Cora replied. She glanced around the bright lobby. Posters of famous actors covered the walls. Staff hurried past with files and coffee. "Let’s get to business," she whispered.

Malisa guided Cora to a quiet lounge on the top floor. The room smelled of fresh tea and polished wood. Through the wide windows, the city looked small, like tiny toy blocks.

They sat on a soft couch. Malisa could not stop staring. "You have not changed one bit," she said, shaking her head in wonder. "Still so pretty, still so elegant. You shine, Cora."

Cora gave a gentle laugh.

"I have a few new scars on the inside, but I keep going."

Malisa leaned forward, eyes bright. "If you step out and tell everyone you are single now tell them the divorce is real every strong, rich man in the whole country will chase after you. They will line up, hoping for one smile, one minute of your time. They will beg to sit near you, to share a meal, to hear you laugh, and just want to marry you and all that stuff.

Cora threw her head back and let out a slow, mocking laugh short, sharp bursts that filled the quiet lounge like loose marbles skittering across a floor.

"Ha-ha," she scoffed, shaking her head as if the very idea were a bad joke. "Malisa, I’m not interested in anything that has to do with marriage. I think I’m done with it done for good."

At that moment She stretched her arms along the back of the sofa, her gaze drifting toward the tall windows. The skyline glittered, but the light in her eyes looked dulled by memories she clearly didn’t want to revisit.

"People pretend a lot," Cora continued, voice dropping to a near whisper. "Everyone wears a mask. You don’t see who they really are until you let them close too close. Then you find out the hard way." She tapped her chest with two fingers, as if to remind herself where the damage had landed. "And when that person turns out to be toxic wicked even it cuts deeper than any blade. You get hurt so badly you don’t know if you’ll ever feel whole again."

Malisa’s expression softened. She remembered how bright and fearless Cora had once been. Now, even though Cora still looked elegant, a fine thread of caution wove through every word she spoke.

"I learned my lesson," Cora said, her lips pressing into a thin line. "It was a bitter lesson, and I never want to go back there."

For a heartbeat, silence draped itself over the room. The hum of the building’s air-conditioning seemed to grow louder, filling the gaps that words couldn’t reach. A faint bustle echoed from the hallway: interns shuffling papers, the distant click of camera shutters, and a producer barking instructions about a late script. MK Entertainment never slept.

Cora straightened, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle from her blouse. "So," she concluded, "the only thing that matters now is doing what’s right for yourself and doing it well."

Immediately Malisa gave a firm nod. "You’re right, Cora. Absolutely right." She leaned forward, her professional poise sliding back into place like a tailored jacket. "But on that note, we have bigger work in front of us."

She reached across the coffee table and flipped open a blue folder marked

[CONFIDENTIAL] in bold silver letters. Inside were pictures of Samuel Callum at late-night clubs, records of missed rehearsals, and a draft of the new contract he still hadn’t signed. Each glossy photo told a tale of talent tangled in self-indulgence.

"This is where we start," Malisa said, tapping the thick stack of papers. "Samuel thinks his fame makes him untouchable. We need to remind him that his stardom began here and it can end here, too."

Cora’s eyes sharpened with purpose. "Good. Show me what’s already in motion, and I’ll tell you what strings we can pull."

Malisa closed the folder, set her shoulders, and offered Cora a steady hand. "All right," she said, the words crisp, deliberate, and brimming with resolve. "That is right, but we have a very strong business to do now and we are going to definitely get to it immediately.