Incompatible

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Huo Wuer

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband's Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn't find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn't even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father's legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn's party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara's health and managing every detail of Caden's empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I'd drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause-if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I'd forgotten.

Modern Divorce Ex-wife

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Prologue

Amsterdam,

Late night,

A tall and a dark young man stepped out of an Audi R8. He straightened his black coat as his mouth pressed in a thin line of irresolution.

His eyes intriguingly stared at the tower in front as he sighed nervously. He'd never thought he'd come here to visit her. But here he was. After pocketing his iPhone he moved inside of the tower slowly.

The night was slow and silent. Yet the moon in the sky shone bright. One could clearly see the spots it has amidst the dancing black clouds. He pressed the button of '9th floor' and stood silently against the mirror behind him looking at the small screen above the elevator doors that screened the number of floors he crossed by.

The doors unlatched with a ding, he bit his lower lip exiting the same. His emotionless peepers gazed at the door of the flat located in the corner, 'Flat no. 903' with a sigh.

After a moment of blank thinking, he finally pressed the bell button. Almost after five minutes, he sensed the lock from within getting unlocked and there, and a gorgeous lady stepped out.

A mere look of her face raised his eyebrows in amusement. His heart skipped a beat.

"Uhh, Raven! You are here at this time, anything serious?" She was Kiara, a delicate lady with big fluttering eyelashes.

She had her hair pulled up in a bun. With a sleepy yawn she drew her loose jacket she wore close to her chest. She couldn't stand his dark eyes checking her petite body when she was only wearing a loose knee length night dress with no brasserie.

"Umm yeah, I... I mean no. It is not serious." He diverted his pupils from her body.

He can't let his mind lose his patience now or else, they'd end up in her bed for a good time. He mused as he looked away in order to concentrate further. It would not lead to good consequences either if he ever dared doing that with her.

Raven ran a hand through his hair. He could not find words to express the reason why he was standing at her doorstep at this hour of night. It was already known by her but still something made their encounter awkward. So, simply removing some papers from his jacket he forwarded them to her.

Her eyes grew wider looking at the paper type, and she shockingly blurted out, "We didn't plan on getting married for real. It was supposed to be a fake marriage, wasn't it? "

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