The Second Chance by Victor Eden

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Huo Wuer

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten.

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Over the quiet hamlet of Silverwood, the moon gleamed silver low in the sky. Emma Matthews had grown up here, her home, where she had also fallen in love and gone through her darkest heartbreak. Walking through the familiar streets brought back both wonderful and awful memories.

The awful night Lucas Blackwood, the future alpha of the Silverwood pack, had publicly rejected her in front of the whole community had been five years ago. Emma had really loved him and had been meant to be with him. But Lucas's father had used shrewd persuasion to quickly crush her dreams.

Emma Matthews had grown beyond the naive young woman who had believed in fairy tales. Mother of triplets, resilience had softened her spirit after she had been misled. She had moved out of Silverwood to start afresh, far from the stories and the terrible memories, and her life now was her children.

Emma had been occupied with her thoughts of the past by her freelance photography business, which had taken her to several towns and places. To raise her children apart from the rigors of pack life, she had relocated to a far-off town near Silverwood.

But tonight, fate had brought her back. Before a last-minute assignment required her to be there, she had avoided Silverwood for years. She had intended to limit her stay to avoid any unwelcome confrontations, but unexpected events often arise.

Walking down Main Street, Emma noticed how much Silverwood had changed. The air smelled of freshly baked pastries from the local bakery, and the few stores along the street looked busier than usual. Delighted by memory, she paused outside the store, but her gaze was drawn to a pack of wolves outside the pack house.

Heart thumping, she saw Lucas Blackwood among them. Tall, with strong shoulders and commanding attention, he looked just like she recalled. Something far away was the focus of his sharp blue eyes, and the wind had blown his dark hair.

Emma's heart pounded, prompting her to swiftly turn away. Not in this way, and not so soon, had she expected to see Lucas. Not after all these years was she prepared to face him.

Someone cried her name as she turned to leave. Ever Emma?

She abruptly stopped, instantly recognizing the voice. Lucas carried on. His voice was deeper now, filled with astonishment and something else she was unable to quite place.

Emma twisted to face him carefully. She said, very quietly, "Lucas."

Leaning forward, he met her eyes. Emma, coming here shocked me.

She gathered herself and swallowed hard. She said, "I'm just here for work," her voice firm now. I'm leaving this place soon.

Lucas gave his agonizing nod. I get that. Still, is it possible to talk? Emma pls. I have things I must express.

Between the need to finally face him and the want to leave, she paused. Did she not deserve closure after all these years?

And at last, she said, "Fine," in a voice laced with resignation. "Talk amongst yourselves."

Lucas took her behind the packhouse to a more private spot where curious spectators couldn't see her. Standing facing each other, they were stiff.

Lucas responded, "I owe you an apology. It was unforgivable what I did to you." I was young, dumb, and influenced by my father. Even so, that is not enough justification. I ought to have battled for you and us."

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