The SEXY NUN

Phoenix Rising: The Scarred Heiress's Revenge

Xiao Hong Mao

I lived as the "scarred ghost" of the Stephens penthouse, a wife kept in the shadows because my facial burns offended my billionaire husband's aesthetic. For years, I endured Kason's coldness and my family's abuse, a submissive puppet who believed she had nowhere else to go. The end came with a blue folder tossed onto my silk sheets. Kason's mistress was back, and he wanted me out by sunset, offering a five-million-dollar "silence fee" to go hide my face in the countryside. The betrayal cut deep when I discovered my father had already traded my divorce for a corporate bailout. My step-sister mocked my "trashy" appearance at a high-end boutique, while the sales staff treated me like a common thief. At home, my father threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving medicine unless I crawled back to Kason to beg for a better deal. I was the girl who took the blame for a fire she didn't start, the wife who worshipped a man who never looked her in the eye, and the daughter used as a human bargaining chip. I was supposed to be broken, penniless, and desperate. But the woman who stood up wasn't the weak Elease Finch anymore; she was Phoenix, a tactical predator with a $500 million secret. I signed the divorce papers without a single tear, walked past my stunned husband, and wiped the Finch family's bank accounts clean with a few taps on my phone. "Your money is dirty," I told Kason with a cold smile. "I prefer clean hands." The cage is open, the hunt has begun, and I'm starting with the people who thought a scar made me weak.

Modern Revenge

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Thursday, October 5th

Grayson knew he should have been in Boston by now, and yet, there he was, standing in front of his Upper West Side brownstone, a victim of the changeable New York weather. Hail had pummeled the tarmac, which in turn had dismissed all hope of air travel, and sent him home for the night. He had rebooked a flight early tomorrow morning with enough time he needed to arrive for the meeting in Boston... Just

In turn, it gave him an opportunity to surprise Morgan.

Glancing down the street at the brownstones, this was a great place to raise kids, and when he had slipped the engagement ring on Morgan's finger six months ago, she had agreed to move in and have their family here someday.

Using his key, he let himself in, soft jazz drifted through the hallway to greet him. Grayson dropped his briefcase by the door, loosened his tie. He considered calling out, announcing his arrival, but paused when he heard laughter coming from the master bedroom. Two women. Morgan and... someone else. Disappointed that they wouldn't have the evening to themselves, but he really couldn't complain. He hadn't planned to be here. If Morgan had invited a friend over to keep her company that was fine by him.

Grayson smiled. More laughter echoed down the hall, followed by whispers he couldn't quite make out. He hung his coat on the rack, figuring he'd grab a drink before interrupting their girl talk. Heading into the lounge to grab a whiskey before seeing what Morgan was up to. Knowing his luck, they were going through Morgan's wardrobe and there would be a mountain of clothing laying over their bed.

The laughter grew louder as he approached the bedroom. Giggles. Hushed words. A sound that might have been a moan. He stopped, hand hovering over the doorknob.

A voice that wasn't Morgan's said, "Baby just like that."

Morgan responded with a sound Grayson recognized all too well. Pleasure.

His stomach dropped. The hairs on his arms stood up. A cold feeling spread through his chest. He knew before touching the door what he was about to walk in on.

But he pushed open the door anyway. He couldn't hide from the knowledge. He needed to face it and them head on. Just like he handled business.

But he wasn't quite ready for the sight that greeted him.

Morgan lay sprawled across their king-size bed, naked, her blonde hair fanned out across his pillow. On top of her was a brunette woman, equally naked, the fingers of one hand tangled in Morgan's hair, he couldn't see where her other hand was, but he could guess.

Time stopped. The world tilted on its axis as Grayson stood frozen in the doorway, unable to process what he was seeing. He'd known-sure-even prepared himself for it-but seeing it was something else.

Then Morgan looked up as if sensing him, her eyes widening with shock.

"Grayson!" She scrambled out from under the other woman, grabbing for the sheet. "You're supposed to be in Boston!"

The brunette sat up, making no effort to cover herself, a smirk playing at her lips.

Grayson recognized her. Tina. His sister Emma's friend. The one he'd meet at his sister's engagement party.

"Flight got canceled." His voice sounded distant, like it belonged to someone else. "Hail."

Morgan pulled the sheet up to her chin. "Baby, I can explain."

Tina laughed, a short, sharp sound. "Can you really?"

Grayson stepped into the room. The jazz still played from the stereo system in the corner of the room, which explained why they hadn't heard him come in. He hadn't tried to be quiet, because he hadn't realized what she had been hiding from him. That thought made him ask his next question.

"How long?" His voice was steady. Calmer than he felt.

Morgan looked at Tina, then back at him. "It's not what you think."

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