The Seductress by Mimi epub vk download

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

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Eve’s POV

First, I discovered that the parents I had grown up with all these years were just my adoptive parents. Then, after finally returning to my biological family, I ended up in a drunken one-night stand at a party.

I thought I was healing from the trauma, trying to piece my life back together, but then—BOOM!—pregnancy happened.

And now, here I was, standing in the hospital for my routine check-up, my body burning like volcano. My hands trembled slightly as I held onto the counter, my vision blurring for a moment. The only one who could save me now—the man I foolishly believed to be mine—was the same man who had barely reacted when I told him I was carrying his child.

I clenched my fists, pushing away the lingering thoughts as I pressed my back against the cold hospital wall, trying to regain my strength.

“Hey, wake up… It’s cold here, you could catch a cold.”

A soft voice, accompanied by a gentle shake on my shoulder, pulled me from my haze. My disoriented gaze met the concerned eyes of the nurse standing before me.

Heat crawled up my neck. My guilty conscience made me look away in shame. I wished the ground would open and swallow me whole.

Gracious! It had already been months since that night, yet the memories of what happened with Joel still haunted my dreams. But no matter how many times the scene replayed in my mind, I could never fully grasp it. My drunkenness had erased most of it, leaving behind only blurred images and a deep, lingering regret.

Thanks to being drunk to the point of unconsciousness, I did not have much memory of that night, otherwise I would not know how to face him.

“Here, you forgot to take your pregnancy health results.” The nurse extended a set of papers toward me. “Dr. James wants you to come back next week for another check-up.”

I nodded, offering a weak smile as I took the report and carefully placed it in my purse. As I made my way toward the exit, a single thought dominated my mind—Joel was coming back today.

Or perhaps, he was already back.

My grip tightened around my bag as nervousness washed over me. It had been months since I last spoke to him. In fact, I only contacted him when I reached my seventh month of pregnancy.

I could still remember the silence that followed when I broke the news to him over the phone. There was no excitement, no joy—just stunned disbelief.

Doctor James had reassured me, saying men often struggled to process their first child and that their mentality would take time to change.

It couldn’t be that. Even regarding our marriage, was I supposed to be the one to speak up?

Joel wasn’t happy.

And if he wasn’t happy, did that mean he didn’t want the baby? Did that mean he didn’t want me?

The sun was blindingly bright as I stepped out of the hospital. I struggled to support my aching waist as I flagged down a taxi. Just as I raised my hand, the roar of an engine filled my ears, followed by the sharp screech of brakes.

I gasped, instinctively stepping back as a dazzling white sports car swerved dangerously close, just barely grazing the hem of my dress before coming to a halt.

My heart nearly leaped out of my chest.

The door swung open, and from the driver’s seat, a woman emerged, her wavy hair cascading over her shoulders as she adjusted her form-fitting black dress.

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