No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

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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Liam Hoffman walked to the front desk of Sunrise Decoration Corp. in Ninverton with a paper bag in his hand.

Inside the paper bag was a cup of coffee, and he was very careful not to spill it.

"This is the coffee ordered by Mr. Dennis Caldwell. Where should I deliver it?" He said to the receptionist.

The receptionist looked Liam up and down and said disgustedly, "Follow me."

Liam was actually an Uber driver. But today, he unexpectedly received a delivery order with generous pay. It was two hundred dollars, so he accepted the job.

He followed the receptionist until they reached the door of an office.

As soon as Liam put his hand on the doorknob, he suddenly heard a woman's groan from inside.

The voice sounded very familiar to him. It was much like his wife's.

He couldn't believe his ears. He must have heard it wrong.

Liam tried to convince himself he was wrong. But he still couldn't help getting closer, so he could hear it more clearly.

"Ahhh... Dennis, don't do that..."

"Come on, let me kiss you. Anyway, your good-for-nothing husband has never kissed you, right?"

When Liam heard the conversation inside the office, he was stunned.

When he came back to his senses, he knocked hard on the door and shouted, "Open the door! Open it now!"

The receptionist asked anxiously, "Hey, what is wrong with you?"

The door was suddenly opened with a loud bang.

Then a strange man appeared in front of Liam.

Liam's attention was immediately caught by the lipstick marks on the man's right cheek.

He threw the paper bag away, pushed the man away, and looked into the office.

Then he saw a woman with smooth skin and a curvaceous figure, wearing black silk stockings. Flustered, she was buttoning her shirt in a hurry.

"Yolanda!" Liam roared in rage.

It turned out that he was right. The flustered woman inside the office was really his wife.

He felt like a giant boulder was pressing his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe.

Liam glared at Yolanda Lambert and said angrily, "Yolanda, we have been married for three years. And during these years, I have worked as an Uber driver by day and taken care of your family by night. I've been a good husband to you. But in the past three years, you have never allowed me to touch you. Despite that, I didn't think badly of you. I told myself you were only a reserved woman. But what is this? How dare you cheat on me with this man in his office! Why did you do this to me? What have I done wrong?"

"Honey... W-what are you doing here?" Yolanda said after finally buttoning up her shirt, covering her exposed cleavage.

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