Divorced by Mistake, Claimed by the Billionaire He Hates

I slid the dissolution papers across the table the moment Dante Moretti dropped his voice low, sweet-talking the fifty-second girl on the other end of the line.

"Dante. Let's end this."

"Sign it, wait out the thirty-day cooling period, and once it's done, we go our separate ways. No more ties."

He gave a flat mm, took the folder without looking, flipped straight to the last page, and scrawled his name with the same lazy authority he used to initial shipping manifests he'd never read.