icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Sign out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

Too Late,Mr.Billionaire:You're Nothing Now

Chapter 6 No.6

Word Count: 1204    |    Released on: 12/01/2026

It's been twenty-four hours. New York is an islan

eet of paper on the desk. It was blank, except

, Mr. Payne. I

p the paper.

ndard trace. Credit checks, rental applications, hot

nd

lock. My screen went black, and this warning popped up." Russo pointe

us sound. "The NSA? For Jessye? My wife bakes cookies

ved for two types of people: Witness Protection, or National Assets. S

ear before we married. It's a pharmaceutical company, not the Pentagon. If s

bed clean. She must have activated some kind of civilian protocol when she married you. But now? The slee

mpty chair where Jessye used to sit during his office pa

s lingering on the red text. She knew. She had always known. She was a biochem major befor

looking for her... maybe check the guest list for the Scie

e. She hates crowds. She's probably hi

n't care about the NSA. Use manual survei

nts are d

ons. The Haley Manor. It's been b

t. The summer crowds were gone, lea

ines. The trees opened up to reveal Haley Manor-a sprawling, stone estate perched on a cliff overlooking the Atl

ndow. The salt air hit he

of the main house was an elderly man in a tweed suit. A

f the car. Her legs

thick with emotion. He bowed his head.

t didn't look abandoned. The windows were clean. The l

ed. "I stopped the payments wh

nn," Alf

roze. "B

e house must be ready fo

t smelled of beeswax and old paper-the scent of her childhood. She walked down the long hallwa

or. It was slightly ajar. Fir

ed the d

houldered, wearing a charcoal three-piece suit that fit him like ar

. His voice was deep, resonant, l

of Wall Street', and her oldest friend. His face was sharper than she remembered,

," Jessye

He stopped a foot away from her, respecti

wasn't a question. It wa

," she c

taking her hand. He turned it over, looking at the faint red mark wh

," Jessye said

brushing over her knuckles. "And the W.D. Labs board has rei

t him. "Why did you wait for m

ered through her. "I knew the bird would eventually outgrow the cag

ping back to the desk. He

morrow. Are you r

" Jess

erous light. "Because I'll be there. And th

list on his iPad, drinking scotch straight from the bottle. H

nger s

head of him.

rector, Project Da

wed his ey

Impossible. She doesn't have the stomach for the stage. It must be

rying the niggling suspicion

t was taking shape, and for the first time in his lif

-

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open
Too Late,Mr.Billionaire:You're Nothing Now
Too Late,Mr.Billionaire:You're Nothing Now
“I spent three years playing the perfect trophy wife for Adam Payne, the billionaire CEO of Payne Corp. I managed his household, cured his chronic fatigue with custom supplements, and stood silently by his side at every gala, content to be the "boring, silent prop" he wanted. But at the Metropolitan Museum gala, the mask finally slipped. Adam bypassed me on the red carpet to walk in with his "colleague" Karly, while a security guard shoved me aside, telling me that "only talent" was allowed on the carpet. When I finally found my seven-year-old son, Joshua, he didn't run to me. He sprinted past me into Karly's arms, calling her his favorite. "Why is she even here? Dad said she wouldn't come. She's embarrassing," my own son whined, looking at me with the same disdain Adam used at home. Later that night, I accidentally triggered an audio message on Adam's iPad and heard his true voice. "She's just a prop to stabilize the stock price. I don't love her. I never did," Adam told Karly. "Once the patent renewal is signed next month, I'll cut her loose. She won't even know what hit her." I stood in the middle of the crowded ballroom, realizing that my sacrifice-giving up my career as a world-class scientist to be a "nobody" wife-was nothing more than a line item in a merger. I was the engine of his life, yet he treated me like a broken appliance. I didn't scream or cry. I simply pulled off my ten-carat wedding ring, dropped it onto the iPad screen, and walked out into the Manhattan rain. Adam thought he married a trophy, but he forgot that the "Daedalus" enzyme powering his entire company belonged to my family trust. I pulled out a burner phone he didn't know I had and dialed my old chief of operations. "This is Dr. Haley," I said, my voice finally steady. "Revoke all licensing for Payne Corp. It's time to show him what happens when the prop stops supporting the stage."”