ESCAPING THE CEO 3

His Unwanted Wife Is A Tech Genius

Elroy Notman

For three years, Cali Sullivan abandoned her brilliant tech career to be the quiet, accommodating wife of billionaire Halsey Donovan. But on her thirtieth birthday, she returned to their London mansion only to find it empty. The housekeeper, looking at her with deep pity, revealed that Halsey had taken his female friend, Brittaney, out shopping to celebrate her birthday instead. He had even taken their young daughter, Lily, with them. When Cali called him, Halsey coldly dismissed her, his attention entirely on Brittaney's bright laughter in the background. The crushing blow came the next morning when Cali stood outside Lily's bedroom and overheard her own daughter's innocent wish. "I wish Auntie Brittaney could be my new mommy. I think Daddy would like that, too." Later that afternoon, Cali saw them through the window of a private club. Halsey was wiping a smudge from Lily's face with a tender focus he never showed his wife, while Brittaney casually fed him cake. They looked like the perfect, happy family. All of Cali's desperate love and sacrifices felt like a cruel joke. She had been entirely erased from her own family. In that moment, the agonizing pain just stopped, replaced by a cold, absolute clarity. Cali drafted a divorce agreement waiving every cent of his wealth, left her platinum wedding rings on the nightstand, and booked a one-way flight back to New York. She was no longer Mrs. Donovan; it was time to get her real name back.

Romance Marital development Drama Billionaire Divorce Personal Growth

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The pregnancy confirmation from NewYork—Presbyterian felt heavy in Izora Shaw's hand, the paper crinkling under the pressure of her damp palm. She stood before the heavy oak doors of Aloysius's study, her heart a frantic drum against her ribs. This could change everything. It had to.

She took a breath that did little to calm her and pushed the door open.

The room smelled of old leather and money. Aloysius Lawson sat behind a desk the size of a small car, his focus entirely on a document before him. The lamplight carved sharp angles on his face, making him look more like a marble statue than her husband. He didn't look up.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice flat, the tone he used for a subordinate who had interrupted him.

Izora's carefully rehearsed words vanished. She walked forward, the thick rug swallowing the sound of her footsteps, and placed the report on the polished mahogany between them.

"Aloysius," her voice trembled, a traitor to her resolve. "I'm pregnant."

His eyes, the color of a winter storm, finally lifted from his papers. They scanned the medical letterhead, the clinical black and white text, but no flicker of joy, no hint of surprise, registered in them. Only a cold, analytical assessment. He slid the report to the side as if it were a quarterly earnings statement he found wanting. Then, he pulled another folder from a neat stack.

"Eloisa's leukemia has relapsed," he said, his tone unchanged. "She needs a bone marrow transplant. You're the most suitable donor."

The air rushed out of Izora's lungs. It felt like being plunged into ice water. "A bone marrow aspiration... while I'm pregnant? The risk—"

"Agree to the donation," he cut her off, sliding the second folder across the desk. It landed next to her pregnancy report. The cover read: Shaw Consortium—Financial Viability Assessment.

A chill, so profound it felt like it was freezing her from the inside out, spread through her body. He didn't care about the baby. He had never cared. This was just another transaction.

"This is your child, Aloysius," she said, her voice cracking. "Our child."

A corner of his mouth lifted in a sneer that was more brutal than any blow. "Mine? Izora, you know exactly what this marriage is. I've never touched you."

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