No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

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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"From Urgent News Flash, there was a rear-end collision on Highway 257. A drunk truck driver collided with a taxi in front, causing it to flip over. The extent of injuries is not yet known, but witnesses say a pregnant woman about to give birth was inside."

The sounds of sirens, screams, and traffic were deafening.

The noise battered Kimberly Holden's ears, and the air reeked of blood.

Barely conscious, she managed to grab her phone and dialed a number.

Just as the call was about to drop, someone picked up.

A familiar female voice responded, "Kimberly, Declan is in the shower and can't come to the phone. What's the matter? Is it urgent?"

At that moment, Kimberly's heart sank.

It was Valerie Walsh! Of course!

Always Valerie, the beloved adopted sister Declan Walsh had grown up with, the one who made him neglect her, block her number, even on her due date.

With her eyes closed, Kimberly felt a warm stream beneath her, signaling the life inside her fading. Despite her agony, she begged, "Help me... Highway 257... Save my child..." Her words were hard to speak.

The sudden accident had knocked down the barriers on both sides, completely blocking the highway. Cars couldn't go forward or backward, and rescue vehicles were trapped outside.

The process of deploying a helicopter was too complicated. However, Kimberly knew that the Walsh family owned a private chopper. If Declan could send it over right away, there was still a chance for hope.

"I'm sorry, Kimberly. Declan is busy with my birthday preparations today and can't address this," said the voice, sounding naive yet harsh.

Then the line went dead.

Kimberly fell to the ground, the smell of gasoline urging her to escape before an explosion.

But she felt a sudden acceptance of her fate.

In her last moments, she thought about her twenty-five years, half spent loving a man who didn't love her back.

From the spoiled heiress of the Holden family, she had become a disgraced figure, publicly embarrassed.

She had gambled everything of the Holden family's property, yet failed to gain even a shred of Declan's genuine love.

She was exhausted and had lost the will to love him again.

This life taught her about poor judgments, and she promised herself not to make the same errors in another life.

"Mrs. Walsh, are you really going to wear this pink couture dress to the charity auction tonight? Even though Mr. Walsh..." Maggie, the housekeeper, paused, then gently continued, "This short dress seems too casual. Maybe choose something different?"

After her suggestion, she watched anxiously for the woman's reaction in the mirror.

Having worked for the Walsh family for many years, Maggie understood Kimberly's deep love for Declan. To win his approval, Kimberly carefully matched her lifestyle to his preferences.

Kimberly looked at the familiar reflection, her heart racing.

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