Rebirth Pampered by My Children and Husband

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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Slap! A crisp slap echoed through the room.

Tracy, dressed in a mini skirt, teetering on fifteen-centimeter-high heels, and wearing heavy yet artful makeup, crossed her arms and looked down with an air of superiority.

Cathy, standing in front of her in a simple white wedding dress, hadn't even figured out what had just happened.

"Why did you slap me?"

Tracy stared at Cathy's bare, porcelain-like skin-smooth and flawless, even without makeup. That face drove her insane with jealousy.

"I just wanted to remind you-though I can't marry Roderick, you're nothing more than a mere shield for us. Your marriage is fake, so don't even think about getting any funny ideas!"

Being slapped for no reason, Cathy stared coldly at the woman in front of her, who looked as smug as a hen that had just laid an egg.

No matter how furious she was, she had taken the money, and now she had to deal with the trouble that came with it.

Taking a deep breath, Cathy silently reminded herself to endure-to hold back.

"Miss White, I'm fully aware that this is merely a contractual arrangement. Besides, I already have someone I love, and it's not Roderick. Once the contract ends, I will leave Roderick cleanly, with no lingering ties."

Even though Cathy had reassured her, no woman could feel secure seeing such a face by her man's side.

"Good. Consider this slap a warning-so you don't forget your place. A woman like you, who would do anything for money... who knows what you might try to pull..."

Tracy was about to continue her mockery when a knock on the door interrupted her.

"Miss Turner, are you ready?"

The deep, clear male voice belonged to Roderick. Tracy shot Cathy a glare.

"I don't want Roderick hearing anything unnecessary. Remember your role-you're nothing but a paid actress."

Cathy clenched the fabric of her dress, forcing herself to maintain the grace she was expected to uphold.

"Miss White, I don't have the habit of gossiping."

"Good. Touch up your left cheek so no one notices."

With that, Tracy strutted away on her high heels, swaying her hips seductively.

The door opened, and in an instant, Tracy's voice softened, turning sweet and gentle.

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