The Lone Daughter of Martyrs: Her Glory Blooms After Divorce

The Lone Daughter of Martyrs: Her Glory Blooms After Divorce

Sutton Moul

5.0
Comment(s)
View
40
Chapters

On the day my parents' ashes were being returned from overseas, I waited for my husband of five years, Domenic, to go to the military base with me. He was the only family I had left. He never showed. His assistant called with an "emergency"-his mistress's mother had twisted her ankle. This was the same man who had given my mother's ruby necklace to that woman, calling it "outdated trash." The same man who, when I brought my parents' urns home, sided with his mother when she called them "disgusting" and ordered the maids to throw them in the basement. "Take that box and get out," he told me. "Do not come back until you are ready to apologize to my mother." He didn't care that the box held the remains of two national heroes. He didn't care that I was their daughter. I finally understood he never saw me as his wife; he saw me as a stray he'd picked up, a pet he could discard. But he made a fatal mistake. The "penniless orphan" he married was a decorated Delta Force veteran and the secret architect of his entire ten-billion-dollar company. He thought he was throwing away a problem. He was about to find out he had just declared war on the woman who held his entire empire in the palm of her hand.

The Lone Daughter of Martyrs: Her Glory Blooms After Divorce Chapter 1 1

Frankie pulled open the heavy velvet-lined drawer of her vanity.

Her fingers, usually so steady, trembled slightly as they brushed past empty ring boxes and discarded silk ties.

She was looking for the small, worn mahogany box that held her mother's ruby necklace. It was the only piece of jewelry she planned to wear tomorrow to the military base.

Her hand hit the back of the drawer. Empty.

Her heart skipped a harsh, unnatural beat. The air in the massive Manhattan penthouse suddenly felt too thin to breathe.

She pulled the drawer out further, the metal tracks groaning under her sudden, frantic force. She tossed aside a velvet pouch. Nothing.

The heavy bedroom door clicked open.

Domenic walked in. He was shrugging off his suit jacket, his movements carrying that effortless, arrogant grace that had once made Frankie's chest ache with love.

Now, all it did was bring a cold draft into the room.

Along with the draft came a scent. It wasn't his usual crisp cologne. It was a heavy, expensive cedarwood perfume.

Carley's perfume.

The scent hit the back of Frankie's throat, making her stomach churn with a sudden, violent nausea.

"Where is it?" Frankie asked. Her voice was low, forced through a throat that felt tight and dry.

Domenic didn't even look at her. He walked to his closet, his fingers moving to the knot of his silk tie. He loosened it with a sharp tug, a habit he always fell into when he was annoyed by her presence.

"Where is what, Frankie?" he sighed, sounding utterly exhausted by the mere fact that she was speaking to him.

"My mother's ruby necklace. It was in this drawer."

Domenic paused. He pulled the tie free and tossed it over a leather chair. He finally turned to look at her, his dark eyes flat and unapologetic.

"Oh, that old thing," he said, his tone entirely too casual. "I gave it to Carley."

The words landed in the room like physical blows.

Frankie's pupils contracted. The blood drained from her face, leaving her skin icy cold. "You what?"

"She saw it on the dresser yesterday," Domenic said, rolling up his shirt sleeves. "She said the vintage cut was interesting. You never wear it anyway. It doesn't even match your clothes."

He spoke as if he had given away a spare umbrella.

Frankie stood up. Her spine snapped perfectly straight, a rigid line of military discipline cutting through her shock. She took a step toward him.

"That was my mother's," Frankie said, her voice shaking with a rage she was fighting desperately to suppress. "It is the only thing I have left of her. I need it back. Now."

Domenic frowned. He took a half-step back, his upper lip curling in distaste at her intensity.

"Stop being so dramatic," he snapped. "It's just a piece of cloudy glass. I'll buy you a new one. Go to Cartier tomorrow and pick out whatever you want."

Frankie didn't argue. Her jaw locked. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, her thumb swiping the screen to find Carley's contact.

"What are you doing?" Domenic demanded, his voice dropping into a dangerous register.

"I am calling her to get my property back."

Domenic crossed the room in two long strides. His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. His grip was bruising, his fingers digging into her skin.

With his other hand, he snatched the phone from her grasp.

Before Frankie could react, Domenic hurled the device at the marble floor.

The sickening crunch of shattering glass echoed off the high ceiling. The screen spider-webbed into a hundred jagged pieces, the light flickering once before dying completely.

Frankie stared at the broken glass. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, rapid breaths.

"Do not bother Carley," Domenic warned, his voice a low, cold hiss. "Her test flight ceremony is next week. She is under a lot of stress. I will not have you ruining her mood over some cheap trinket."

Frankie slowly raised her eyes to meet his.

Her eyes were red-rimmed, burning with a heat that felt like acid. But she didn't cry. She just looked at him, really looked at him, as if seeing a stranger wearing her husband's skin.

Domenic reached into his inner pocket. He pulled out a sleek, heavy American Express Black Card and tossed it onto the floor.

It landed right on top of the shattered glass of her phone.

"Buy yourself something nice," he said, his tone returning to that bored, dismissive drawl. "Consider it an apology."

Frankie looked down at the card. The ultimate symbol of his wealth, sitting on the wreckage of her communication. It was almost funny.

She didn't reach for it.

"Tomorrow is the day," Frankie said, her voice completely devoid of emotion now. It was a dead, flat sound. "The military is bringing my parents' ashes back. You promised you would go with me to the base."

Domenic rubbed his temples, letting out a long, put-upon sigh.

"Yes, fine. I remember," he muttered, not looking at her. "I'll be there. Just... clean this mess up."

He turned his back on her and walked out of the master bedroom, heading straight for the guest suite down the hall.

The heavy door slammed shut. The sound echoed like a gunshot, severing the last invisible thread of their five-year marriage.

Frankie stood alone in the silence.

She slowly crouched down. She reached for the broken pieces of her phone. A jagged edge of glass sliced into her index finger.

A drop of bright red blood welled up and fell, landing directly on the Amex Black Card.

Frankie didn't flinch. She didn't feel the pain in her hand. The pain in her chest had already consumed everything else.

She stood up, leaving the card and the blood behind. She walked to the massive floor-to-ceiling window and looked out over the glittering skyline of New York.

The sorrow in her eyes slowly hardened, freezing over into a landscape of absolute, desolate silence.

She turned away from the window and walked to the walk-in closet. She pushed aside a row of expensive designer coats she never wore, revealing a hidden wall safe.

She punched in a twelve-digit code. The heavy metal door clicked open.

Inside sat a thick, sealed manila folder. Her true identity file. Untouched for five years.

Beside it lay a pair of dull metal dog tags on a ball chain.

Frankie picked up the dog tags. She squeezed them in her fist until the metal edges bit sharply into her palm.

The physical sting grounded her. It reminded her of who she really was.

Continue Reading

Other books by Sutton Moul

More

You'll also like

Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance

Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance

Roderic Penn

I stood at my mother's open grave in the freezing rain, my heels sinking into the mud. The space beside me was empty. My husband, Hilliard Holloway, had promised to cherish me in bad times, but apparently, burying my mother didn't fit into his busy schedule. While the priest's voice droned on, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a livestream of the Metropolitan Charity Gala. There was Hilliard, looking impeccable in a custom tuxedo, with his ex-girlfriend Charla English draped over his arm. The headline read: "Holloway & English: A Power Couple Reunited?" When he finally returned to our penthouse at 2 AM, he didn't come alone-he brought Charla with him. He claimed she'd had a "medical emergency" at the gala and couldn't be left alone. I found a Tiffany diamond necklace on our coffee table meant for her birthday, and a smudge of her signature red lipstick on his collar. When I confronted him, he simply told me to stop being "hysterical" and "acting like a child." He had no idea I was seven months pregnant with his child. He thought so little of my grief that he didn't even bother to craft a convincing lie, laughing with his mistress in our home while I sat in the dark with a shattered heart and a secret life growing inside me. "He doesn't deserve us," I whispered to the darkness. I didn't scream or beg. I simply left a folder on his desk containing signed divorce papers and a forged medical report for a terminated pregnancy. I disappeared into the night, letting him believe he had successfully killed his own legacy through his neglect. Five years later, Hilliard walked into "The Vault," the city's most exclusive underground auction, looking for a broker to manage his estate. He didn't recognize me behind my Venetian mask, but he couldn't ignore the neon pink graffiti on his armored Maybach that read "DEADBEAT." He had no clue that the three brilliant triplets currently hacking his security system were the very children he thought had been erased years ago. This time, I wasn't just a wife in the way; I was the one holding all the cards.

The Silent Bride's Billion Dollar Contract

The Silent Bride's Billion Dollar Contract

Landslide

My bank account showed exactly $42.18, and my student loan notifications were flashing red. I lived in a sweltering Queens apartment with my Aunt Lydia, where the air was thick with the smell of stale frying oil and the constant threat of being homeless. Lydia handed me a grainy photo of a man twice my age and told me she had already "sold" me to him. He was a dry cleaner looking for a wife, and in exchange for my hand, he would pay off her credit cards and my debt. If I didn't show up for the date that night, my boxes would be on the curb by midnight. I arrived at the cafe in a state of panic, my selective mutism making it impossible to even breathe. In the crowded room, I accidentally sat at the wrong table. Instead of the man from the photo, I found myself facing Gerhard Holcomb—the cold, terrifyingly handsome billionaire whose family owned the very museum where I worked. He didn't send me away; instead, he studied my trembling hands and offered me a different deal: a two-year contract marriage, a two-million-dollar payout, and a strict clause forbidding any children. I signed the papers and moved into his Park Avenue penthouse, thinking I was finally safe. But when I went back to the old apartment to retrieve the only memento of my dead parents, Lydia lashed out, leaving me bleeding from a head wound. Gerhard’s retaliation was absolute—he had her arrested and her building foreclosed on within hours, claiming he was simply "protecting his assets." As I recovered in his silent, glass-walled home, I saw a call from a famous socialite flash on his phone, and a cold truth settled in my gut. I wasn't just a wife; I was a placeholder, a silent shield used to fend off the women from his past. I looked at the massive pink diamond on my finger and realized the silence I had lived in my whole life was about to become my most expensive prison. I had traded a life of poverty for a high-stakes game of shadows, and now I had to survive the man who claimed to own me.

Betrayed Bride: Claimed By The Brother

Betrayed Bride: Claimed By The Brother

Reilly Mcardle

I arrived at the hotel with Julian's favorite takeout, ready to surprise my fiancé before our big merger. But the moment I swiped the keycard, the silence of the hallway felt heavy and wrong. Inside, a red-soled stiletto lay on the marble floor-the same one I'd watched my best friend Lila try on at Saks last week. Through the cracked bedroom door, I watched Julian's back arch as Lila looked me straight in the eye and smiled, wrapping her legs tighter around him to mock my heartbreak. I fled to the penthouse to hide, only to find Grafton, Julian's "crippled" brother, waiting in the dark. To my horror, the man who was supposed to be paralyzed stood up from his wheelchair, gripped my chin with cold fingers, and forced me to sign a contract that gave him control of my family's shares. He knew about my mother's secret medical bills and used them to buy my silence, effectively turning my life into a calculated game of corporate chess. The betrayal tasted like acid, and the injustice of it all burned in my throat. My fiancé was a liar, my best friend was a thief, and the man now controlling my fate was a predator who had been faking his disability for years. I couldn't understand how everyone I trusted had turned out to be a monster. I was trapped between a man who cheated on me and a man who wanted to own me, with no way out and no one to turn to. But when Julian came looking for me, Grafton didn't hide; he stood tall, looming over me with a possessive glint in his eyes. "Help me destroy Julian," I rasped, realizing that to survive the Faulkner men, I had to become the most dangerous player of them all.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book
The Lone Daughter of Martyrs: Her Glory Blooms After Divorce The Lone Daughter of Martyrs: Her Glory Blooms After Divorce Sutton Moul Modern
“On the day my parents' ashes were being returned from overseas, I waited for my husband of five years, Domenic, to go to the military base with me. He was the only family I had left. He never showed. His assistant called with an "emergency"-his mistress's mother had twisted her ankle. This was the same man who had given my mother's ruby necklace to that woman, calling it "outdated trash." The same man who, when I brought my parents' urns home, sided with his mother when she called them "disgusting" and ordered the maids to throw them in the basement. "Take that box and get out," he told me. "Do not come back until you are ready to apologize to my mother." He didn't care that the box held the remains of two national heroes. He didn't care that I was their daughter. I finally understood he never saw me as his wife; he saw me as a stray he'd picked up, a pet he could discard. But he made a fatal mistake. The "penniless orphan" he married was a decorated Delta Force veteran and the secret architect of his entire ten-billion-dollar company. He thought he was throwing away a problem. He was about to find out he had just declared war on the woman who held his entire empire in the palm of her hand.”
1

Chapter 1 1

19/03/2026

2

Chapter 2 2

19/03/2026

3

Chapter 3 3

19/03/2026

4

Chapter 4 4

19/03/2026

5

Chapter 5 5

19/03/2026

6

Chapter 6 6

19/03/2026

7

Chapter 7 7

19/03/2026

8

Chapter 8 8

19/03/2026

9

Chapter 9 9

19/03/2026

10

Chapter 10 10

19/03/2026

11

Chapter 11 11

Today at 15:29

12

Chapter 12 12

Today at 15:29

13

Chapter 13 13

Today at 15:29

14

Chapter 14 14

Today at 15:29

15

Chapter 15 15

Today at 15:29

16

Chapter 16 16

Today at 15:29

17

Chapter 17 17

Today at 15:29

18

Chapter 18 18

Today at 15:29

19

Chapter 19 19

Today at 15:29

20

Chapter 20 20

Today at 15:29

21

Chapter 21 21

Today at 16:37

22

Chapter 22 22

Today at 16:37

23

Chapter 23 23

Today at 16:37

24

Chapter 24 24

Today at 16:37

25

Chapter 25 25

Today at 16:37

26

Chapter 26 26

Today at 16:37

27

Chapter 27 27

Today at 16:37

28

Chapter 28 28

Today at 16:37

29

Chapter 29 29

Today at 16:37

30

Chapter 30 30

Today at 16:38

31

Chapter 31 31

Today at 17:19

32

Chapter 32 32

Today at 17:19

33

Chapter 33 33

Today at 17:19

34

Chapter 34 34

Today at 17:19

35

Chapter 35 35

Today at 17:19

36

Chapter 36 36

Today at 17:19

37

Chapter 37 37

Today at 17:19

38

Chapter 38 38

Today at 17:19

39

Chapter 39 39

Today at 17:19

40

Chapter 40 40

Today at 17:19