Electronians

Cheated On Me? I Married a Tycoon

Rum Runner

I spent three years building my husband, Axel Farrell, into Silicon Valley's ultimate "family man." As his lead PR strategist, I carefully managed his public image, making sure the world saw him as a perfect, devoted husband while I worked in the shadows of our estate. The illusion shattered when he came home one night smelling of sandalwood and roses, with three deep fingernail scratches carved into his back. When I tried to check his phone, the passcode we had used for years-our wedding anniversary-had been changed. The betrayal got worse the next morning when his mother called me a "defective product" and tried to force me into a fertility clinic. Axel didn't defend me; instead, he shoved me against a marble bar at a public gala to protect his mistress in front of the world's elite. By the time I tried to leave, Axel had frozen my bank accounts and filed a forged legal petition to have me declared mentally incompetent. He planned to have me legally kidnapped and locked in a private psychiatric ward just to stop me from filing for divorce. He even blocked every major law firm in the city from taking my case, leaving me with no money, no identity, and no one to turn to. I couldn't understand how the man who "saved" me from the mud years ago could be the same monster now trying to legally erase my existence. Was our entire marriage just a grooming process to exploit my genius for his billion-dollar empire? As the deadline for my forced commitment approached, I stopped crying and opened my laptop. I leaked the video of his affair to every tech journalist in the country, watching his stock price crash in real-time. "Axel thinks starving me out will make me crawl back to him," I whispered as I walked into the headquarters of his biggest rival. "But he forgot that the most valuable part of his company is in my head." I was no longer the abandoned wife; I was the one who was going to take his throne and burn it to the ground.

Modern Revenge Bankruptcy Billionaires Female-Centered Ex-wife

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A searing pain shot through her arm. It was unbearable.

Claire Williams licked her chapped lips and tried to open her eyes but couldn't.

Her eyelids felt hot and heavy. She heard a muffled voice as she stirred on the bed. Sometimes the voice sounded loud and clear and at times it softened, confusing her.

"Gosh, poor thing! The girl's family refused to give her anesthesia. I wonder why they hate her so much."

"Yes. She has thirty stitches on her arm. I feel the pain just by looking at it."

After a long while, Claire slowly opened her eyes and found herself lying in a hospital bed. Her eyes widened in horror when she saw the IV drip pinching her skin. She soon realized what had happened.

Sierra Brooks had asked her to go shopping with her. But she had brought her only to carry the shopping bags for her.

Sierra often ordered Claire to do her chores, and the latter always obeyed her. That was the case even now.

On the way back, Sierra drove the car and Claire was sitting in the back seat. The next moment, the car crashed.

The car accident flashed in her mind. Claire's heart was drumming in her chest. She broke into a cold sweat. The fear wracked her nerves.

Her body trembled. She frantically looked around and realized no one else was in the ward.

Just as she was about to sit up, she heard sound of footsteps outside the ward.

Claire turned around and saw a tall figure. Her heart fluttered as she realized it was the person whom she had missed a lot.

"Darren!" she cried with joy.

Darren Sampson was her husband. They had been married for three years. She liked him even though they barely saw each other.

Claire thought he had come to visit her after knowing about the car accident. She knew it. He cared about her.

But the next second, the man hurried away, not bothering to even look at her.

Claire's smile vanished in an instant.