Hell Hath no fury like a billionaire's Ex

Diane's Pov

I kept having the impression that something wasn't quite right. Lately, Liam had become aloof, consistently arriving home after work late, with increasingly flimsy justifications. Though I made an effort to ignore it, the doubt that was always there in the pitiful silence of our formerly content home remained.

I made up my mind that tonight would be different. I would show up at work unexpectedly and perhaps even propose an impromptu dinner date, just like we used to do when we first got married. I put on his favorite perfume, brushed up my makeup, and slipped into a tight black dress that I knew he would love, grinning at the prospect.

It was a short drive to his office block, with the downtown streets remarkably deserted on this Thursday night. With my heels clicking on the glossy marble floor, I parked my car and walked to the lift. My heart was thumping with excitement, picturing Liam's happy surprise upon seeing me.

Excitement mounted as I walked out of the lift when the doors opened to the executive floor. But I heard muted conversations as I walked up to Liam's office. In case he was in a meeting, I reduced my speed to avoid disturbing him.

That's when I heard it-a woman's laugh. I knew that chuckle all too well.

The laugh of my sister, Sophie.

As I edged closer to the door, which was slightly ajar, my blood raced cold. I could see them through the crack: Liam with his hair mussed and shirt undone, and Sophie sitting on his office table , her skirt indecently high.

Sophie laughed, "We can't keep doing this," but as she drew Liam in closer, her words were contradicted.

Why not?" With a growl, Liam felt her body with his hands in a way that made me queasy. Diane has no suspicions at all. She is too preoccupied with her own small world to pay attention to what is in front of her."

I was silently seeing my own humiliation and wanted to shout, to rush in and confront them both, but I couldn't.

Sophie purred, "You're terrible," but her tone was devoid of any genuine criticism. "What about next week's charity gala? It's not like we can arrive together."

Liam chuckled, a sound that used to fill me with warmth but now sent ice through my veins. "Don't worry, I've got it all figured out. Diane will be there, playing the dutiful wife as always. You'll arrive fashionably late, and we'll steal a moment when no one's looking."

Sophie mumbled, "Mm, I like the sound of that," and then they locked lips in a passionate kiss that broke my heart.

I stumbled backward, my hand over my mouth to stifle the sob threatening to escape. How long had this been going on? How could they do this to me?

Unshed tears clouded my vision as I made my way back to the lift. The ride down was so intense that my knuckles went white. I don't know how long I sat there, replaying the scene in my head, every detail a new severance of grief; the way Liam touched and looked at Sophie was exactly how he used to look at me, and Sophie was my own sister. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined.

Eventually, I turned on the ignition and drove home on autopilot, while a flurry of feelings, including hurt, anger, and bewilderment, battled inside of me and threatened to break me apart.

Memories hit me as soon as I stepped into our bedroom, which Liam and I had shared for years. I was reminded of the night he proposed, right by the window, our lazy Sunday mornings spent curled up in the sheets, our shared dreams, and the future we had planned.

All lies.

After sinking ontod our bed, I began to cry. How could I have been so blind? The late nights at work, the enigmatic texts, the way he would withdraw from me when I tried to be intimate-everything made sense now.

As I was crying, I noticed our wedding picture on the nightstand. We looked so happy, so in love. I picked it up and traced Liam's face with my finger. Had he ever really loved me, or had I just been a useful stepping stone on his road to success?

In a fit of anger, I threw the frame across the room. It cracked against the wall, leaving glass tinkling on the floor like the broken pieces of my marriage.

I'm not sure how long I sat there, letting the tears run, reliving every moment of my connection with Liam, looking for clues I could have missed. The sun had long gone down when I heard the front door open.

"Diane? "Are you home?" Liam's voice rang out, sounding regular and unaffected. How dare he?

I hurriedly dried my eyes and braced myself. I couldn't let him see me this way, or tell him I knew. Not yet.

"In the bedroom," I responded, shocked by how calm my voice sounded.

Liam stood in the doorway, his brow furrowing as he took in the scene: me, still in my dress, mascara most likely smeared, and the broken picture frame on the floor.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice filled with worry that I recognized as phony.

I forced a smile. "Oh, I simply knocked it over by accident. "Clumsy me."

He nodded, appearing happy that I was not upset. "I will clean it up. How about I order us some dinner? "I am starving."

"That sounds great," I said, my stomach turning at the idea of eating a meal with him. "I'm just going to take a quick shower."

I let out a trembling breath as soon as I entered the restroom and was safely behind the shut door. I noticed my reflection in the mirror, and a woman I barely recognized looked back at me. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face pallid, and her world devastated.

But while I stood there, something changed inside me. The hurt and betrayal were still present, but a new emotion was emerging: rage. White-hot, all-consuming rage.

I took a shower, imagining the hot water would cleanse me of Liam's lies and deceit.

I needed time to think and plan before confronting him. Liam and Sophie thought they were clever, but they had no idea who they were dealing with. During dinner, I played the role of the oblivious wife, laughing at Liam's jokes, asking about his day, and pretending.

I would not approach him. Not quite yet. I required time to plan and reflect. Liam and Sophie believed they were quite smart, but they were unaware of the person they were dealing with.

I was the ideal example of the unaware wife over dinner. I asked Liam about his day, laughed at his jokes, and pretended not to notice when his phone buzzed and he smiled surreptitiously at a text message.

"I was thinking," I remarked nonchalantly while we were clearing the dishes, "that maybe I should pay Joan a visit for a few days." We haven't had a genuine girls' weekend in ages.``

I could tell Liam was plotting his trysts with Sophie as soon as his eyes brightened. "Honey, that's a really good idea. You merit some time off. When do you plan to travel?"

"Maybe tomorrow?" I replied. "I could use a change of scenery."

"Definitely," he said with haste. "Take as much time as necessary. Here, I'll hold down the fort."

I smiled, despite my bitter thought, "I bet you will." "You're the best, darling."

That night, I lay awake with a racing mind while Liam slept soundly beside me. I reflected on the years we had spent together and the life we had created. My little sister Sophie, whom I had always helped and shielded, crossed my mind. How could they subject me to this?

Nevertheless, my route became clearly visible when the first rays of morning peaked through the drapes. I couldn't simply turn a blind eye to this betrayal. No, I would take offense. When pushed to the absolute limit, Liam had no idea what I was capable of.

As I prepared to go to Joan's beach house in the morning, I packed a tiny bag, and said farewell to Liam as if nothing had happened.