No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

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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Stacks of paper were thrown at two men by a man dressed in a green two piece suit. The man was holding a walking stick with his left hand.

The men who stood in front of that man bowed their heads in embarrassment, neither attempting to speak because they knew of the repercussions.

"Why nonsense is this!" The man spat out. "Where is the file that contains the contract between Foreshore buildings and Power international limited? Where is it?" He shouted at the men in front of him.

"I'm not speaking to deaf and dumb, am I?" He spoke again when he noticed the men were not making an attempt to speak. He was really angry, the document was very important to him and for the progress of his business.

"Sir...sir, we are sorry. We mixed the files up and..." The man speaking was harshly cut off by his boss who was extremely pissed. "Shut up!"

"You mixed the files and lost it?" He scoffed then he chuckled lightly. "Then lose your job the same way you lost the file." He said firmly.

"What!" Both men gasped, raising their heads up to look at their boss, one of the most powerful men in America. Richard Anthony Power was a well known business tycoon who cared about nothing else other than his business and his family.

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