His Unwanted Wife: The Hidden Genius Architect

e spoke, the friendly concern in her voice had evaporated, leaving behind the cool, sh

r voice flat. "I'm in the lobby of

d. I knew it. Okay, Stella, listen to me. Do not go upstairs. Do no

lawyer; she was the only true

up. I'm packing my thin

m your legal counsel. Do not engage with him or his family w

said, her voice hollow. "I signed a pr

awyers to ensure she would walk away with nothing but the clothes on her back. At the

ie. "Alright. I'll start drafting the divorce papers first thing in the mornin

mall studio I kept before the wedding." It wa

ote of fierce pride in her voi

ivate elevator, her spine straight, her ste

ne, a scent she used to adore. Now, it was cloying, the smell of a lie. She ignored the art-

ry watches. The other half was a monument to her role as Mrs. Carlisle: racks of pristine

sneered that Stella's only purpose w

t touch a single item. Instead, from the very back of the

tecture textbooks. Lastly, she added a plain manila folder. Inside were the photocopies of the a

an from their wedding day. She picked it up, stared at her own hopeful,

he staff quarters, her expression one of surp

Ms. Pacheco," she corrected, her voice g

st stared, utte

ing, the screen lighting up with his name. She ignored it. With deliberate care, she slid the five-carat diamond ring

pulling the door quietly shut behind

thout a moment's hesita

ed to a drizzle. She gave the driver an address in DUMBO, Brook

e allowed herself one last look back at

no sadness

Tonight, Stella Pachec