Shadow of Desire Love in the Underworld

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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"Madison! Madison!" Aaron in tears kneeling as he held her in his arms.

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Hold up! That's not where we begin.

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Chapter One

New York City buzzed with pulsing life, tireless rhythm of noise and energy. The air carried the scent of rain blended with relentless ambition, one that Madison carter wasn't sure she could keep up with. But here she was, trying as she stood at the edge of her tiny balcony, her hands gripping the rusted railings as she gazed at the city.

She lifted up her face to the sky, letting the gentle drizzle of rain poured over her skin. The rain felt symbolic, like washing away of her past she was determined to leave behind. Her past wasn't a place she often visited, not if she could help it. There were many shades of black and darkness that stung like open wounds, and as if to punctuate the moment, her phone vibrated on the wooden table behind her, an immediate interruption from the calm she was trying to have. She sighed and stepped back into her studio apartment.

Her apartment was an evidence of survival, barely furnished, with a couch that served as both a bed and a silent witness to sleepless nights, a makeshift desk by the window, and a single pot on the stove, worn and scarred.

Madison swiped open her phone, A new message from Rachel, her boss at the gallery, lit up the screen.

"Remember your meeting with the donor tomorrow, its crucial. And for heaven's sake, wear something that screams professional. Make an impression!"

She groaned, tossing the phone onto her couch.

Rachel meant well, but she wasn't sure she could scream anything other than "walking catastrophe." She pressed her fingers to her head, longing to skip to the time when she felt grounded and settled. Maybe even happy. But happiness felt like a luxury she couldn't afford.

The gallery had been a way to rebuild in a city that didn't remind her of her past. It was a modest role, assisting with exhibits and managing donors, but it was hers. After years spent behind the domineering presence of her father, where every decision and choice had been dictated by him, she craved for freedom.

When she heard about the job opening in New York, she grabbed the opportunity desperate for something of her own. Her father was infuriated and his words were sharp.

"You think you can just run away and start afresh? What else do you need? New York will break you, and when it does you will be crawling back to a better life here."

His voice felt like a weapon with each passing syllable meant to wound.

"Madison, you are nothing without me. Nothing!"

His words still tarried in her mind, haunting her. But she wasn't going to let that define her. She was far from being the little girl who cowered beneath his harsh words. She clenched her fists at the memory, forcing herself to focus on here and now.

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"Morning, Maddie!" Rachel's voice reverberated as Madison walked into the gallery the following day. Her boss, a burst of enthusiasm, had her blonde hair swept into a messy bun that screamed effortless chic.

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