Mr Billionaires Accidental Heiress

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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Elena's POV

The tray is balanced on my palm as I move between tables with the ease of someone who has done this a million times already. The smell of roasted coffee beans clings to my hair and apron, and my old white sneakers squeak almost inaudibly on the café's polished floor.

It is Friday evening, and the jitters of the approaching weekend can already be felt, tingling in the air.

"Here you go," I mutter, stopping by the table closest to the door. "On caramel latte, extra foam."

The young girl with glasses on gives me a smile without looking up from her laptop. Probably an assignment that needs to be sent in before the end of the day.

I straighten, rubbing the back of my neck as I move to the next table. My eyes search the clock hanging above the door at intervals, waiting for my shift to be over.

Everyone who walks in here will think I actually enjoy my job, but it is suffocating, and I can really do without it. Still, money has to be made.

"Elena!" A voice I know too well chirps from the booth in one corner.

I turn around to see my best friend, Elizabeth, leaning into the seat, legs crossed and eyes reflecting the wide grin on her face. She is dressed in a black sequined tube top, with gloss that can be seen from miles away.

"Ready for a Friday party?"

"What are you doing here?" I whisper harshly, rushing over to her, still with the tray in my hands.

She taps her perfectly manicured nails on the table. "Rescuing you from this prison. You are coming out with me tonight. No excuses."

"I'm working, Elizabeth." My eyes dart around, hoping the manager doesn't come out now.

"You are off in twenty minutes," she replies like she already knows how this is going to play out. "And don't pretend like you've got something better to do, unless Netflix suddenly started paying you to rewatch all the sappy comic dramas you like."

I roll my eyes. "First of all, FRIENDS isn't sappy, and second, it is way better than dancing away in some club with all that sweat and music."

Even though my voice gives disdain, my best friend isn't totally wrong. My life outside the café is non-existent. The closest thing I have to excitement is being indoors all day long.

"Are you going with me or not?" She questions, her eyes daring me to say otherwise.

"What is the occasion?"

"Party at Jaden's place. You remember Jaden, right?"

"Your crush?"

"Don't tell him that!" she snaps. Now, it is her turn to look around as if Jaden will suddenly materialize out of thin air. "But yeah. Him. And everyone is going. There's going to be music, dancing, drinks..."

Elizabeth leans forward, her eyes shining with mischief. "Trust me when I say that this is right for you."

"I don't know about that," I sigh, tray still in hand. I am not a fan of parties. I hate the noise, the crowds, the fake smiles. But with the way Elizabeth is regarding me intently, I doubt I have much of an option.

Maybe she is right.

Maybe I do need to breathe for once.

"Fine," I mutter, surprising myself. "But I can't stay long, Elizabeth. You know I have to be back here tomorrow morning."

She raises her hands in mock surrender. "One drink and I will personally take you home."

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