Divorce from my husband after he drowned my parents

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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On our seventh wedding anniversary, Alan Begum and I had a heated argument because of my decision to choose not to have children, and it ended on a sour note.

Later, I saw a post on social media from his childhood friend, Danna Ahmed. "From the moment you entered the racing circuit to now being famous, I've always been by your side, and only I have been by your side."

She also posted a photo of her with Alan and other teammates.

The teammates had teasing expressions as they looked at them, while Alan and Danna exchanged smiles, appearing like a couple.

Yet in these seven years, he never allowed me to visit his racing events or meet his teammates.

Whenever I asked, he would gently and patiently reassure me. "There are high-speed races on the track. It's too dangerous. You're my dearest, and I'd be heartbroken if you got hurt."

But when I pressed further, his gentle demeanor often turned into impatience.

We had been married for seven years, and it turned out that the most important person in his heart had been his childhood sweetheart, Danna.

Without any drama, I calmly took off my ring, composed a message, and sent it to him. "Alan, let's get a divorce."

Then I slipped on the black gloves that had been preserved in the glass cabinet for many years.

Since when did high-speed racing become dangerous?

I called Austin Ford and informed him of my decision to return to the team.

Austin's voice was full of excitement. "When you were forced to leave, and all information about you was sealed, there was no news for seven years. I thought you wouldn't come back."

I chuckled softly, "I couldn't bear to leave you guys, so I had to return."

Austin feigned annoyance and teased me a bit. "But the paperwork for your return will take at least a month. Enjoy your last month of leisure because when you come back, I'll make sure you work hard."

Despite being the boss of HC Racing Club, Austin never acted like one.

Unexpectedly, shortly after I sent the message to Alan, he came rushing back.

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