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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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It was late at night.

Lucinda Ross was tossing and turning in her sleep.

She felt a man on top of her, his weight pressing on her, making it hard for her to breathe properly.

She could hear him panting and feel his hot breath against her cheek.

And then, without warning, she felt a sharp pain in between her legs.

When she finally realized what was going on, her eyes flew open in horror. She squinted in the dark at the man above her.

"Nathaniel... Is that you, Nathaniel?"

He only grunted in response, and the pungent smell of alcohol assaulted her senses. He made no further sound, just kept pounding her like his life depended on it.

Lucinda allowed herself a sigh of relief after recognizing his voice. At this point, she could do nothing but to give in to his amorous onslaught, though she would let out a groan of pain here and there.

His movements became more frantic, and she had to grit her teeth to get through the strange mix of pain and pleasure. Still, she couldn't help but feel elated at this unexpected turn of events.

They had been married for three years, but her husband—Nathaniel Roberts—had never touched her. He didn't want to.

His grandfather, Logan, had forced him into this marriage, so Nathaniel had always resented her and treated her coldly.

Right now, Lucinda didn't care what had made him change his mind.

She was simply more than happy to surrender herself to him.

After a couple of hours, Nathaniel let out one final grunt and slumped over her in exhaustion. A sliver of moonlight cut through the window, outlining his profile like a perfect work of art.

Lucinda listened as his heartbeat gradually slowed its pace. The whole thing felt surreal that a tiny part of her suspected she was only dreaming.

If it really was a dream, then she never wanted to wake from it.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Nathaniel," she crooned with all the affection she harbored toward him. "Nathaniel, I—"

She was about to tell him that she loved him, but she heard him mutter in his drunken stupor before she could even get the words out.

"Ellie..."

Lucinda froze, feeling like a bucket of cold water had just been dumped on her head.

Her heart ached at the realization that Nathaniel had simply mistaken her for another woman.

The woman in Nathaniel's heart was Eleanor Turner. She was his first love. Yet because Logan didn't approve this relationship, she was forced to stay abroad all these years.

But Eleanor had just returned to the country.

And she had wasted no time sending a message to Lucinda, one that was obviously meant to provoke her.

"I'm back. Soon enough, there will no longer be any place for you in the Roberts family.

You may have married Nate, but he and I grew up together. Did you really think you could replace me? Know your place and crawl back to the orphanage where you came from. That's where you belong.

I'm sure you know how much he loves me. Even if he lies naked in your bed, I assure you that it will be my name he calls out. Do you understand, Lucinda? To Nate, you will only ever be my substitute."

Her substitute...

Lucinda was the woman Logan had chosen to be Nathaniel's wife! She was no one's substitute.

She was pulled back to the present by the sound of Nathaniel's voice. Her husband was still murmuring another woman's name.

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