In love with the Billionaire play boy

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Huo Wuer

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband's Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn't find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn't even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father's legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn's party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara's health and managing every detail of Caden's empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I'd drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause-if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I'd forgotten.

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I slowly wake up and sit up in bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. After a few minutes, I get up and head to the bathroom. I brush my teeth and take a quick shower, feeling a little more awake.

Back in my room, I apply some lotion to my skin before opening my wardrobe. I take out the brand-new school uniform I got yesterday. Today is my first day at Royal Kids High School. I'm not sure if I'm scared or just really nervous.

After putting on the uniform-which fits me perfectly-I tie my long black hair into a neat ponytail. I dust a little powder on my face; I want to look nice, especially on my first day!

I don't forget my lip gloss, then I grab my pink backpack and step out of the room.

I walked into the kitchen and found my dad making breakfast.

"Good morning, Dad," I said, dropping my backpack on one of the dining chairs.

"Morning, Angel. Ready for your big day?" he asked, placing a glass of juice on the table.

"Yeah, just a little nervous," I replied, sitting down and taking a sip.

He chuckled as he walked over with a plate of toast.

"It's totally normal to feel nervous," he said, setting the toast in front of me. "But don't let it get to you."

"Okay, Dad. Can I take a cab to school today? You don't have to drop me off. I mean, I'm a big girl now," I said, hoping he'd say yes.

"No way. You're still my little baby," he said with a grin. "Now hurry up, you don't want to be late on your first day."

I rolled my eyes. Ugh!

My dad is way too protective. He never lets me go out unless it's school-related. I've never even been to a party because he always says no. It drives me crazy sometimes-especially now that I'm growing up-but to him, I'll always be his newborn baby.

Oh! My bad-I totally forgot to introduce myself. My name is Annabelle Smith, but my dad always calls me Belle. I live with my dad, Mr. Alex. I've never really known my mom. According to Dad, she left when I was just two years old... and she took my twin sister with her.

She never came back. Not once. But honestly, I've learned not to care too much. As long as I have Dad and I'm happy, that's enough for me. Still, if I could have one wish, it would be to meet my twin sister. But I guess life doesn't always go the way we want.

After breakfast, I grabbed my backpack and headed outside. Dad followed right behind me, holding his car keys and my water bottle.

We got into the car, and I quickly pulled out my lip gloss to reapply it-breakfast had completely wiped it off.

"Young lady, seatbelt," Dad reminded me with his usual dad voice.

I rolled my eyes playfully and buckled up. He started the car, and off we went.

---

Meanwhile...

The morning sunlight spilled through the window and landed on his face. He frowned a little, then slowly opened his eyes. With a lazy stretch, he rolled over on the bed before finally getting up.

Even half-asleep, he didn't look like someone who just woke up-his good looks were impossible to ignore.

His name? James Walter. The only son of Mr. and Mrs. Walter, the wealthiest family in the city.

James stood up, walked into the bathroom, and splashed cold water on his face. He looked into the mirror and smiled, fully aware of how handsome he was.

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