Blood Lust by MrDelicacy

Cheated On Me? I Married a Tycoon

Rum Runner

I spent three years building my husband, Axel Farrell, into Silicon Valley's ultimate "family man." As his lead PR strategist, I carefully managed his public image, making sure the world saw him as a perfect, devoted husband while I worked in the shadows of our estate. The illusion shattered when he came home one night smelling of sandalwood and roses, with three deep fingernail scratches carved into his back. When I tried to check his phone, the passcode we had used for years-our wedding anniversary-had been changed. The betrayal got worse the next morning when his mother called me a "defective product" and tried to force me into a fertility clinic. Axel didn't defend me; instead, he shoved me against a marble bar at a public gala to protect his mistress in front of the world's elite. By the time I tried to leave, Axel had frozen my bank accounts and filed a forged legal petition to have me declared mentally incompetent. He planned to have me legally kidnapped and locked in a private psychiatric ward just to stop me from filing for divorce. He even blocked every major law firm in the city from taking my case, leaving me with no money, no identity, and no one to turn to. I couldn't understand how the man who "saved" me from the mud years ago could be the same monster now trying to legally erase my existence. Was our entire marriage just a grooming process to exploit my genius for his billion-dollar empire? As the deadline for my forced commitment approached, I stopped crying and opened my laptop. I leaked the video of his affair to every tech journalist in the country, watching his stock price crash in real-time. "Axel thinks starving me out will make me crawl back to him," I whispered as I walked into the headquarters of his biggest rival. "But he forgot that the most valuable part of his company is in my head." I was no longer the abandoned wife; I was the one who was going to take his throne and burn it to the ground.

Modern Revenge Bankruptcy Billionaires Female-Centered Ex-wife

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prologue

I just woke up because of the fragrant smell of flowers. I love the smell of flowers. Feels good.

If only I could just sleep like this without thinking about classes, assignments, or boring recitations. Damn, but I know at any moment my grandmother will wake me up to go to my beautiful university.

Please, I need 5 more minutes.

I don't want to open my eyes yet. I need to sleep more; I want to feel the softness of this bed. I want to feel the warmth of this comforter. I wrapped myself in it even more. What if I'm absent? Even now.

I even dressed myself in fetus style. Why is it too cold today? It's too lazy to get up when the climate is this cold.

"Claret..." I ignored the call to my name. Please let me sleep.

"Claret.." damn it. I quickly grabbed the first one near me and put it over my ear.

"Claret.." I woke up violently when I heard my name again from the unfamiliar male voice. Who is this man calling me?

I remained motionless. What is the man doing in my room? Where is Grandma? I'm starting to get nervous; having a man in my room is a huge sin. My grandmother would surely burn me alive.

But what I noticed almost made me stumble. What the hell? This is not my bed! How did I get here? Damn, I cannot remember anything. Did I drink last night? What the hell is happening?

"Come on

"Claret, stop that act." Why does this man know me? Acts?!

I just screamed when, suddenly, the thick comforter that was hiding me was pulled away. I quickly sat up and backed up to the headrest of the bed. And my eyes almost widen from what I see.

I'm in a strange room with this gorgeous stranger. Who the hell is he? Why the hell am I here? I'm just sitting on a red bed full of white rose petals. What's with this setting?

And I looked down on me, sh*t! I don't even own this dress! I'm wearing a silk black dress, and I can vividly see my body in this thin kind of dress! Has something happened to us? I automatically covered myself to hide whatever was leaking from this thin dress. Who dressed me?

Who the fuck is he?

The moment our eyes met, I couldn't help but swallow a few times. damn

He's too beautiful and damn topless. What am I doing in this room with him? How did I end up in this room and wake up dressed like this?

He now sits in front of me like a king as he gently sips red wine. He has this intense eye on me that I can't explain. My chest was beating faster at the way he was looking at me. He looked familiar, as if this was not our first meeting.

"Why am I here?" I asked him hesitantly. The last thing I remember is that my grandmother and I were still talking. Shit! I can't remember anything.

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