The Mafia Bride Of The Police by ILma

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

Download the Book on the App

Ashley

Filling the room with an electric atmosphere, the DDW hotel in Los Angeles buzzed with the presence of wealthy individuals. Damien Albrecht's grand party for the opening of their new company was the talk of the town.

Damien Albrecht, the supposed heir to the Albrecht group and the world's youngest billionaire, was known for his involvement in various businesses, including rumors of drug dealings and leading a small mafia group. His name alone struck fear into the hearts of those who dared to cross his path.

The mere mention of his name sent shivers down the spine. A human with no heart, a heartless, ferocious demon, and a nightmare to whoever obstructs his way at least that was how the rumors described him to be.

Although I had only seen him through the media, Damien Albrecht had become my ideal man. Despite the rumors surrounding his dark and mysterious reputation, I couldn't help but feel excited about the prospect of seeing him in person. My anticipation grew as I hugged myself tightly, a satisfied smile on my face.

To catch a glimpse of the world's richest billionaire, I sneaked out of the house with my best friend Layla. Damien Albrecht had become my celebrity crush, and this was an opportunity I couldn't miss.

However, before the party even began, I had already consumed four glasses of Devil's Springs Vodka. Its name proved fitting as the effects started to take hold, leaving me feeling dizzy. Layla, on the other hand, kept urging me to drink more.

Filling my glass with more drinks insisting that I loosen up and vibe with the guests and rich men there.

"I am coming, I need to make use of the restroom," Layla leaned closer to my ear and suddenly whispered.

"I can't hear you," I yelled back.

"Need to use the restroom!" she half screamed so that I could hear her amidst the loud booming music in the hotel.

"Let me come with youuu!" I squealed, I guess this is the effect of the alcohol.

"No need, I will be right back," with that one word she strode out to God knows where.

And just in time, my phone beeps in my purse, sliding my hand inside my pouch. I pulled it out, not even remembering to check the caller ID. I pressed the phone against my ear.

"Hey, Ash.....!" A smile pulled up on my lips brightening my face, only my fiance Mason Grayson addressed me by that name.

"Mason," I called with a tender voice, struggling for him not to notice how drunk I seemed right now.

"Come to room 5088," my eyes widened at that. My lips formed an o sound with the phone still pressed hard against my ear.

I heard him chuckle at the other end, "Don't worry I am not mad at you, I know that you are a little tipsy,"

All smiley I left the party hall and ambled toward the staircase while still on call, "Babe...... Which room number again?"

"5088," his voice sounds gregarious like he couldn't wait to meet me.

"So what are you doing here?" I asked, my two dimples deepened as I giggled.

"Don't keep me waiting, hurry up and you will find out the surprise on your own," he chuckled.

I ended the call and stared down at my appearance. I knew that I looked breathtaking in the wine red-colored luxurious gown that stopped mid-way showing my thigh. The luxurious gown hugged my exquisite figure scrupulously, making me look charming and at the same time cute.

Walking through the vestibule of the hotel, I kept staggering when patting my forehead.

"How strange...... Only that drink is not enough to make me this weak," Holding the walls for support, I kept walking. My eyes have slowly started getting blurry.

However, just in time, I saw the room number boldly written on top showing that I had finally reached my destination.

"Room 5089..... Finally," I hushed with a puff. Looking around the hallway I noticed that only one room is suited there, but Mason mentioned room 5088. I stared around the foyer for a while and sighed. Maybe he was mistaken because there is no room 5088 here.

And without a second thought, I walked toward room 5089 with the joy of meeting Mason.

KNOCK...!

Read Now