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The Unwanted Wife Is A Billionaire Heiress

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 690    |    Released on: Today at 17:00

ed the power button

nimalist interface. There was onl

itate. She tapped the

ayt

antly. A man's voice, deep and

ally decided to

in his tone, mixed with the relief

es, but she forced the tears back

need you to

t words tasting lik

ting a d

Then, Clayton's voice returned, stripped of all wa

be there in f

ment. Just immediate,

hone into her handbag, along with her passport and a few persona

her small suitcase and u

Augustine stood nearby, his brow furrowed in a deep frown. When he saw Chloe de

leave," he said, his

aight toward the front door, the heels of her boots cl

his fury. He strode forward and grabbed

you going to

er flesh, sending a jo

he wrenched her arm free from his gr

ome self-respect. By tomor

Rh

to his heart. She had always called

a tense standoff,

ervously at Augustine be

gold-rimmed glasses. Behind him, parked at the curb, was a black Ma

were sharp as daggers. His gaze swept over the chaotic scene in the living ro

ery's expressio

to Chloe. He shrugged off his own expensive

dirt, he calmly removed Augustine's

oft, for her ears onl

night, a crack appeared in her composure, a hi

n at the impossibly expensive car parked outside. A

of Chloe,

didn't

his eyes filled with a contempt so profound it was

have the ri

a protective arm around her shoulders, and guided her out

ed, as Chloe got into the Maybach a

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The Unwanted Wife Is A Billionaire Heiress
The Unwanted Wife Is A Billionaire Heiress
“On our third wedding anniversary, I spent all afternoon preparing a perfect dinner, waiting for my husband. He showed up three hours late, bringing his first love along with him. Her hand was resting protectively over a softly rounded belly. Augustine looked at me coldly and announced that she was pregnant and would be living with us from now on. When she pretended to be weak, he ordered me to get her a glass of hot water, treating me like a lowly maid. His mother rushed in shortly after, cursing me as a barren hen and celebrating the mistress's pregnancy. They surrounded her with care, completely forgetting the silvery scar hidden on my lower back. It was the permanent reminder of the kidney I had given him to save his life. Three years of devotion, swallowing my pride, and sacrificing my own body all felt like a cruel, elaborate joke. I didn't feel pain anymore, just a profound, bone-deep chill and overwhelming disgust. So, I calmly demanded a divorce, waived my rights to all his assets, and walked out. Then, I turned on a secret phone I hadn't used in three years and called my billionaire brother. "Brother, I need you to come get me. I'm getting a divorce." This time, I chose to reclaim my true identity and crush him on my own terms.”