Trapped by Lies

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.

Modern Divorce Ex-wife

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Chapter 1

I urgently needed a "sidekick" to finish my final project.

Who would have thought that I'd witness the classic scene of two guys fighting over a girl?

I took a bold step forward and stopped one of the men.

"Hey, I can help you become the sidekick! You can be my research material!"

Seeing that he was unmoved, I bit my lip and sweetened the deal.

"I'll teach you everything, guarantee your success, and I'll be there for you every step of the way."

Later, he cornered me in a booth at the bar, his eyes rimmed with tears, whispering pitifully, "Leanna, where's the after-care service you promised?"

"Bro, you and Corynn are not a good match, understand? I've known Corynn since we were kids. No one knows her better than I do."

I hid around the corner of the stairs, peeking at the confrontation below.

I understood the situation: the childhood sweetheart couldn't compete with the sudden appearance of the male protagonist.

At this moment, the male protagonist was pinned against the wall, his face bruised, yet he stubbornly retorted, "We're already together."

I clung to the railing, glancing at the childhood sweetheart who was indeed rolling up his sleeves.

I quickly ducked back, catching my breath.

Luck was finally on my side.

This semester, I was taking a specialized course called Introduction to Film and Literature.

For my final project, I decided to study the male supporting character in real life.

Literature mirrors reality, so I planned to compare a real-life male supporting character with one from a fictional work.

I wanted to impress my professor and boost my GPA.

But finding the perfect research material was tough. After all, who would run around with "I'm the male supporting character" written on their forehead?

My project progress had come to a standstill.

"You wish!"

Downstairs, the childhood sweetheart grabbed the male protagonist by the collar, his forearm muscles tensed.

His raised fist signaled he was ready to strike.

From my years of reading novels, I could predict how the story would unfold.

After the childhood sweetheart beat up the male protagonist, the female protagonist would feel sorry for the male protagonist and gradually distance herself from the childhood sweetheart.

The childhood sweetheart would convince himself that he had known the female protagonist the longest, and everyone else was just a fleeting presence.

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