The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

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 Rebirth Divorce Ex-wife

Download the Book on the App

A woman in a white T-shirt and jeans walked out of the train station in Douburgh with a suitcase.

Her delicate face turned slightly red as the sun hit her. She tucked wisps of curly hair behind her ears. Under her arched eyebrows were a pair of bright and pretty eyes, a slim nose, and cherry lips. She looked so beautiful even though she had no make-up on.

"Hello! You are Annabel Hewitt, right? I'm the driver sent by the Benton family."

Annabel nodded and followed the driver into the car casually. She was already worn out.

On the way, the driver stole glances at the woman, whose eyes were closed as she rested in the back seat.

This woman was Rupert Benton's fiancee.

Rupert Benton was the most eligible bachelor in the city. At just twenty-one years old, he was already the CEO of Benton Group. He was way ahead of his peers. He was a vigorous, resourceful and no-nonsense person, causing many in the business world to be afraid of him.

His grandfather, Bruce Benton, took it upon himself to find a wife for him. And he picked Annabel, a girl from the countryside.

With his hands on the steering wheel, the driver took another look at Annabel's innocent face and clicked his tongue. He envisaged that she would have a hard time with the Benton family.

At this time, Annabel slowly opened her eyes and looked at the strange city with a calm expression.

The car arrived at the Benton family's residence soon. The driver carried Annabel's luggage for her.

Annabel barely had one foot inside the house when a well-dressed woman appeared. She eyed Annabel from head to toe with a look of utter disdain.

"Tracy!"

"Yes, Mrs. Benton."

As soon as Tracy was given a signal, she began to spray the disinfectant all over Annabel.

The well-dressed woman was Erica Benton, Rupert's mother. With her hands akimbo, she ordered, "Her shoes and hair. Spray them, too."

Annabel's face and body were soon covered with droplets of disinfectant. The pungent smell made her nose a little itchy. She uttered coldly, "What is wrong with you?"

Erica flipped out immediately.

"I heard that you're from the countryside, but I thought you would at least be well-behaved. It appears you are the same as the wayward and rude girls they breed over there. I'm doing this because I don't want you to bring any virus or bacteria into this household. Do you want us to get infected with whatever you are carrying?"

Annabel wasn't one to take shit from anyone. She would have walked out if she hadn't made a deal with her grandfather.

Read Now