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Losing My Genius Wife: The Billionaire's Regret

Chapter 8 

Word Count: 902    |    Released on: Today at 15:02

show up at the company today? You were supposed to hand over the Biomedi

had vanished, then down at her daughter, safe in her ar

I didn't go to the handover because there is nothing to

ing about?" he dem

nality. "That document is my final 'handover'. You can keep your first love,

art surprisingly calm. The finality of her words hung in the air, s

of the townhouse, Brody stared

e Agre

ancial audits. It was ridiculous. He tossed the paper back onto the table. It w

e for your childish games. Be at the office tomorrow at 9 AM f

ched her lips. She would go. Not because he ordered he

a walked into the Carli

ment to the family's power. Alisha walked through the revolving doors, her head held h

harp tailoring a stark contrast to the somber black of the funeral.

smantled. Boxes were stacked in a c

rang. It

ient. "Celestia is waiting. Just get the hando

voice flat. She hung up bef

vements efficient. But her mind was elsewhere. Her gaze

that screamed for attention. She was the new queen surveying her conquered

e. "8:58 AM. Barely making it on time, Alisha? Or were you

ied coldly, placing an empty cardboard box

ypted servers and handed

quarters," she said, her tone crisp and professional. "The digital copies have been sent to the b

s fiery entrance. The taunts she had prepared died on her lips.

I assumed it was mostly simple administrative work." She was trying to d

search grants and coordinates with several hundred researchers globally. If you find it too complex, I'm sure

e hadn't prepared her for this. She was out of her depth, and Alisha

more than capable. Unlike some people who jus

le word of the technical jargon, but she refused to look incompetent. "These are outdated metrics. Once I f

rogance of this woman was almost comical.

rling into a mocking smirk. "I h

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Losing My Genius Wife: The Billionaire's Regret
Losing My Genius Wife: The Billionaire's Regret
“At the Carlisle family funeral, I held my traumatized five-year-old daughter's hand, playing the perfect billionaire's wife. But my husband, Brody, stood feet away, openly rubbing the back of his mistress, Celestia. When our daughter reached out for comfort, he shoved her small hand away to catch his "fainting" lover. He carried her out in front of everyone, leaving us to the mockery of his elite relatives. "Maintain your dignity," my mother-in-law whispered coldly, before going to hug the mistress. The nightmare had just begun. The next morning, Brody publicly announced he was giving the biomedical division I had spent five years building to Celestia. When I stopped Celestia's son from bullying my daughter, Brody grabbed my arm and threatened me. He even bought off my daughter's therapist to write fake medical reports, claiming I was an unstable mother, all to set up a ruthless custody battle. I couldn't understand how the man I married could not only betray me but systematically erase my life's work and plot to steal my child just to please another woman. Looking at my daughter's silent, terrified face, the last shred of my hope snapped. I hired the most ruthless divorce lawyer in New York and drafted my demands. Then, I received a text from "The Ninth"-a legendary, untouchable specialist who had just miraculously saved my daughter from a fall, and the one man the Carlisle money couldn't buy. "He is waiting for you." This time, I was going to make them lose everything.”