His Ex Wifes Dangerous Charms

No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

Xiao Xiaosu

I went to the City Clerk’s office for a routine copy of my marriage license to finalize a trust fund audit. I expected a simple piece of paper, but the clerk’s pitying look told me my entire life was a lie. "The license was never finalized, Ms. Oliver. In the eyes of the state, you are single." The three-hundred-guest wedding at the Plaza and the Vogue features meant nothing. My husband, Gray Cooley, had intentionally filed the documents with a "procedural defect" so he could discard me without a legal divorce. Moments later, an iCloud invite titled "Our Little Secret" popped up on my screen. It was a photo of my best friend, Brylee, holding a positive pregnancy test at our Hamptons estate. Gray’s text to her was the final blow: "Happy anniversary, babe. This baby is the best gift. Once the trust unlocks today, we’re done with the charade." I soon discovered they were even stealing my career, reassigning my architectural masterpiece to Brylee while preparing my eviction notice. Gray's mother called me a "barren mule" in a leaked recording, mocking the infertility I suffered after saving Gray’s life in a construction accident. I wasn't a wife; I was a three-year placeholder used to secure his inheritance. How could the man I bled for treat me like a disposable prop? How could my best friend carry his child while pretending to comfort me through my darkest moments? The betrayal burned until it turned into a cold, hard stone of fury. I didn't cry. Instead, I walked into the penthouse of the Barretts, the Cooleys' most powerful rivals. I signed a marriage contract with Kane Barrett, the man the tabloids called the "Beast of Wall Street." "I want a wedding," I told his father, my voice steady and lethal. "Bigger than the one I had with Gray." If they wanted me gone, they would have to watch me become the woman who owns their world.

Modern Revenge Divorce

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It was 8:30 AM on a bright Monday morning. Everyone in the fashion creative department of FK fashion company was seated and awaiting Mr Kaine big reveal.

There were already speculation that the new creative director of the company was no other than the highly qualified Amelia Porter.

Amelia Porter was the most talented and ingenious fashion designer of the company. Aside graduating top of her class from the ULC college of media arts and design, she had put in more than five years of service at the company. She practically had a non-existent social life due to her workaholic lifestyle.

Creating masterpiece designs had always been Amelia's childhood ambition and she had fought hard against all odds to actualize this dream. Now all she needed was for her name to be mentioned. She couldn't wait to move into her new office, the office of her dreams.

When Mr. Kaine finally announced the name of the new creative director, the room went silent. A pin dropped from afar could be heard. It was as though everyone was stunned by the announcement.

After a brief moment of silence, someone stood up and started clapping and cheering. Within seconds, others joined in the euphoria, aside from Amelia.

The name Sarah Bane kept reverberating in Amelia's head. It felt as though she was trapped in precipitating ravine as everything began to spin in circles around her. Terror and rage slowly seeped through her vein as she observed everyone cheering for Sarah.

All week Amelia had been receiving accolades from her colleagues. Even her boss, Mr. Franklin, had been full of praises for her after the last business proposal presentation.

What had that been about? Had he said all of that while knowing he was not going to give her the promotion? Was this a game where the hero gets trashed and the sidekick takes all the glory?

"Why the hell is everyone cheering at Sarah? This is supposed to be my position," Amelia thought aloud. But thankfully, no one heard her statement. They were all too busy cheering for Sarah to pay her any attention except for Denise.

"Sarah is my protege for goodness sake," Amelia said in a barely audible voice, almost choking on her words because of the emotion that clogged her throat.

Even though the room was properly ventilated, she suddenly felt very hot. She tried to stand up, but her legs were shaking.

Summoning all the courage she could muster, Amelia stood up and stormed out of the meeting room.

"Amy, wait up!" Denise called after her. She was as taken aback by this as her bestie.

Denise wished she could act as the fairy godmother now but she was in the same boat as Amelia. They both work for the same scheming bosses.

Amelia went straight to her desk, picked up her bag, and swiftly left the building without answering Denise's calls.

A vortex of anger and frustration swirled inside Amelia's veins as she hurried towards the car park. She was quivering in fury, but she restrained herself from expressing it.

Different thoughts flooded her head as she stepped briskly into the parking lot, without looking left or right for incoming or outgoing vehicles.

Screech!

Amelia froze when she suddenly heard the deafening screeching sound of a car's tyre. She remained transfixed on the same spot until the honking of the car horn jolted her back to reality.

"I'm not dead!" Amelia placed her hands on her heaving chest. When the car honked a second time, she lost her self control and turned on the unfortunate driver.

"Are you blind or crazy? What the hell is wrong with you? You almost ran me over!" Amelia screamed, scowling at the person seated behind the wheel of a gray-colored exotic car.

When the driver's door opened, a tall, handsome-looking young man with tanned skin stepped out calmly. His elegant movement was in slow motion as though time had slowed down. His movement gave him the demeanor of a beautiful warlord. The dark blue fitted suit he wore captured his broad-shouldered athletic body.

Amelia, who had been ready to yell at him found herself at a loss of words, and she blinked in awe as she beheld this fine specimen creation.

Everything about him was perfect. From his neatly cut light brown hair to his clean-shaven square projected chin, to his perfect lips, to his...

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