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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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A Visit from My Obsessor

A private jet landed at Indira Gandhi International Airport. As the packing apron was emptied for the arrival of a very special guest.

Six men dressed in an all-black suit and leather shoes waited patiently by the Maybach Exelero packed in front of the plane for the arrival of India's most special guest.

Letting down the air stairs, the six men immediately went towards the airplane and waited by the stairs to welcome him.

Putting on his glasses and facemask, he got off the plane and went straight to the black Maybach Exelero, not waiting or responding to the greetings of the scout men who followed beside him.

"Sir," the driver greeted him immediately as he sat down in the car.

"To the Baljiwan mansion." He ordered his eyes to never leave the iPad in his hands.

The driver bowed his head a little from the front of the car in acknowledgement before he started the car and drove out of the packing apron to the location given to him.

****

Everyone's attention turned to the luxurious car that entered the Baljiwan compound with speed. Stopping in front of the mansion, the driver came out of the car and opened the back door of the car.

Everyone held their breath as they waited patiently to see who was going to come out of the car.

Placing his foot on the ground, he sucked in a breath before coming out of the car. He looked around a bit, gripping the golden bracelet tightly in his palm.

He dipped his other hands into his pocket before trying to make his way through the media, who now crowded themselves around him, their cameras flashing, curious to know who the sudden guest was.

From inside the mansion, the commotion the media was making outside could be heard.

Getting up from his seat, Mr. Baljiwan excused himself from the ceremony to check exactly what was going on outside.

Mr. Baljiwan stepped out of his mansion with fur written all over his face.

He came into contact with a man standing in front of his mansion, his hands dipping into his pocket, as some men dressed in all black tried to stop the media from getting any more forward than they already were.

Going towards the man, he stopped in front of him and looked up, murmuring a few curse words at the height difference between them.

" Yes! And who are you, young man? ung man?" He asked.

He narrowed his eyes at him, raising an eyebrow before taking off the mask and eyeglasses he had on.

He stared blankly at the old man in front of him as his eyes widen in realization.

Mr. Baljiwan stayed rooted to his spot, shocked, not believing the presence of the person he was standing in front of.

Cleaning his hands unconsciously on his suit, he stepped a little bit forward and extended his hands for a handshake.

He stared down at the old man's hand, then back up at his face, making the man shift slightly on his spot before taking his hand out of his pocket and accepting the handshake.

The old man blew out a breath of relief before forcing a smile on his lips and then quickly withdrawing his hands to his side after the handshake.

"Mr. Ethan, please, to whom do I owe this pleasure?" He asked.

but only got shunned as Ethan put his hands back into his pocket and walked past him, making his way into the mansion, leaving him behind.

Mr. Baljiwan stood there, shocked, for the second time in just a few minutes.

Turning towards the door, he couldn't help but wonder what the great Ethan was doing in his house. Was he here for business or the ceremony? He wonder.

Meanwhile, inside the mansion, the couple attending the ceremony were getting ready to take their vows in front of the priest and the holy fire.

The priest raised the mangalsutra before giving it to the groom to tie around his bride-to-be's neck.

Disha smiled as she closed her eyes, ready for her husband to place his claim around her neck.

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