The Billionaires Prey

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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Laura's POV

I release a heavy sigh for the umpteenth time and rub my temples in frustration. I pace my room with my eyes roaming space, hoping I will not forget anything at all. My parents are having us move from town for an uncountable amount of time.

I have never had a stable life ever since I was born. I can always remember us moving from one place to another for some reason that remained unknown to me up until now that I am eighteen years of age. They should be able to tell me what they think and their plans for me, but no, they would rather just keep me in the darkness where they assumed I belonged.

I remember that this is the reason why I never had friends, and I will most likely never have friends. It is because my parents always make us move when I finally get attached to someone.

They feel it is nothing for them, but it is a huge deal for me that I have to live up to for the rest of my life. Sometimes, I try to understand them and wonder if it is for my good, but then I realize that communication matters. The least they can do is give me a heads-up, but not even that happens.

My room door suddenly opens wide, and the slamming sound startles me, causing me to jolt out of my miserable thoughts and back to my miserable current reality. I turned around to glare at my mum standing by the door with a worried look on her face. Her hands are placed on her waist, and the worry on her face suddenly disappears, and a frown appears on her face.

Of course, here we go again.

"What is wrong with you, Laura? We have less than half an hour before we hit the road. Do you want us to be late?" Mum snaps at me.

I rolled my eyes at her and said, "Mum, I am ready. I am just making sure I do not leave any precious things behind, and that is just it. You need to calm down." I said, raising my voice a bit at her. Well, that is because I am sick of her and Dad. Mostly her because Dad never says a word to me. He just drives to wherever we are moving to in silence.

"Do not address me in that way, young woman, and I do not like your outfit at all. Get changed at this moment!" Mum yells at me by running a hand through her soft blonde hair.

I always wondered where I got my brown hair from, since both my parents had blond hair. Mum always waved the question off and said my grandmother had brown hair, but she was late now.

"Get changed? Mum, we are not going to find a suitor for me, so what is the point of getting changed?" I fired at her, chuckling nervously at the suitor part. For some weird reason, I notice Mum flinching a little at the mention of a suitor, and her face suddenly drops. Wait, what is going on here?

I raise a brow at Mum, but she does not respond. Her entire body freezes for a brief moment until I snap my fingers in her face and yell her name.

"Mum, calm down. It was just a joke," I said. She nods her head and excuses herself out of my room, not after bringing out a sleeveless sunflower dress from her wardrobe and handing it to me.

I glare at the dress with disdain. It looks way too fancy to be worn on the bus throughout the day until we get to our designated location. But then, who am I to argue with Mother? I dare not.

I hastily changed into a sunflower dress and moved out of my room with my bags. Surprisingly, the sitting room did not look all that empty. Dad just moved the television and the refrigerator. The worn-out couches are still intact, and so is the centre table.

"She will not be needing the bags." Dad's deep voice startled me. I turned around to glare at Dad standing in front of Mum. Now, they both have blank expressions. I can not tell what is going on right now or rather what is about to happen.

"You heard your dad Laura, leave the bags, and let us go." Mum repeats.

"Leave the bags? What about my clothes?" I yelled at them. I pause to sigh and go on, "We do not exactly have enough money to buy new clothes for me, plus the old ones I have are fine by me." I say.

"Young lady, just obey your father. Leave the bags and join us outside at this moment." My mum says through gritted teeth. She hurriedly rushes out of the house with Dad in front of her.

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