Seesaw taejin

No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

Xiao Xiaosu

I went to the City Clerk's office for a routine copy of my marriage license to finalize a trust fund audit. I expected a simple piece of paper, but the clerk's pitying look told me my entire life was a lie. "The license was never finalized, Ms. Oliver. In the eyes of the state, you are single." The three-hundred-guest wedding at the Plaza and the Vogue features meant nothing. My husband, Gray Cooley, had intentionally filed the documents with a "procedural defect" so he could discard me without a legal divorce. Moments later, an iCloud invite titled "Our Little Secret" popped up on my screen. It was a photo of my best friend, Brylee, holding a positive pregnancy test at our Hamptons estate. Gray's text to her was the final blow: "Happy anniversary, babe. This baby is the best gift. Once the trust unlocks today, we're done with the charade." I soon discovered they were even stealing my career, reassigning my architectural masterpiece to Brylee while preparing my eviction notice. Gray's mother called me a "barren mule" in a leaked recording, mocking the infertility I suffered after saving Gray's life in a construction accident. I wasn't a wife; I was a three-year placeholder used to secure his inheritance. How could the man I bled for treat me like a disposable prop? How could my best friend carry his child while pretending to comfort me through my darkest moments? The betrayal burned until it turned into a cold, hard stone of fury. I didn't cry. Instead, I walked into the penthouse of the Barretts, the Cooleys' most powerful rivals. I signed a marriage contract with Kane Barrett, the man the tabloids called the "Beast of Wall Street." "I want a wedding," I told his father, my voice steady and lethal. "Bigger than the one I had with Gray." If they wanted me gone, they would have to watch me become the woman who owns their world.

Modern Revenge Divorce

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At the Barrett family's residence in Shirie.

The grand living room on the first floor buzzed with conversation, guests swirling glasses of champagne as they exchanged pleasantries. A towering banner with the words "Welcome Home, Beloved Daughter" stretched across the entrance.

Meanwhile, in the cramped, airless attic on the third floor, Brenna Barrett was packing her belongings.

Alec Barrett, Brenna's adoptive father, stood before her, an envelope in his hand. He set it down gently before Brenna, his face lined with feigned reluctance.

"Brenna, why must it come to this?" he said. "Yes, we've found our biological daughter, but that doesn't mean you have to leave. You know our family's wealth—taking care of one more person isn't a burden. If you ask me, you should stay. Your mom and I will treat you no differently than before. But if you're determined to leave, I won't stop you. Still, your family is barely scraping by. I doubt they can even send a car to pick you up. Take this money—at least let it cover your travel expenses."

Brenna's eyes flicked to the slim envelope. She was already certain it held no more than a thousand dollars. Without a hint of hesitation, she pushed it back toward Alec, her expression cold. "I don't need it. My parents have already sent a car for me."

She scoffed inwardly. What a laughable attempt to make her stay. Persuading her to stay while already offering her travel money?

The Barrett family had taken her in when she was barely past her second birthday, a replacement for the daughter Ruby Barrett had lost—a child stolen from the hospital the day she was born. Drowning in grief, Ruby had grasped at the idea of adoption, convincing herself it would ease the ache of her loss.

But Brenna had never been a daughter for the Barrett family in anything more than name. She had spent her childhood in hand-me-downs from discount racks, scraping by on leftovers while serving as a servant in the Barrett household.

When she had gotten older, Alec had stumbled upon her natural flair for design. Even her casual sketches outshone those of seasoned professionals, their market value undeniable.

That was when everything changed. The Barrett family had stopped her from going to school. She had become their hidden asset, locked away to draft blueprints for car parts and even entire vehicles. They knew exactly how much of their wealth was earned by her.

Without Brenna, they would have never broken into Shirie's elite circles, never had the means to throw this lavish welcome party for their biological daughter, with influential figures from all walks of life attending.

And now that their fortune had just begun to flourish, they didn't want to keep Brenna anymore. The Barretts were eager to kick her out of the family, their selfishness laid bare.

Alec sighed and shoved the envelope into Brenna's bag.

He said, "They've sent a car to pick you up? I find that hard to believe. I looked into your biological family. Your parents have two sons, and your only uncle is bedridden, unable to care for himself. They live in a struggling village—barely making ends meet. They don't have the luxury to come pick you up. You've been living in comfort here, spending freely. Are you sure you're ready for that kind of hardship? Just take the money..."

Brenna pulled the envelope out of her bag and placed it on the table with quiet finality. "Goodbye."

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