The Billionaire's Ex Wife Revenge

The Billionaire's Ex Wife Revenge

Rebecca Bruce

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Sarah had planned her life to follow in the footsteps of her father and become a well known renowned journalist. She was on the verge of completing her journalism course when her father had to marry her off in an arranged marriage to the son of a powerful mayor, Andrew. A closed door agreement to save his company.

The Billionaire's Ex Wife Revenge Chapter 1 Arranged Marriage

"No... no... no, Dad! What did you just say?" Sarah's voice was filled with disbelief. She rubbed her forehead, trying to stay calm, but the disappointment was clear on her face. She stood stiffly in front of her father, who sat on the couch, looking far too composed for her liking.

"I'm doing this for you, for us," Mr. Simon said, his voice steady but not entirely convincing.

Sarah let out a dry, humorless laugh as she sat down on the sofa next to him. "I can't believe you, Dad. How could you make such a big decision without even asking me?" she asked, her eyes searching his face for some sign of regret.

Mr. Simon shifted slightly, avoiding her gaze. "Listen, Sarah," he started, his voice softer now. "I have to save the comp-"

"My life matters too, Dad!" Sarah snapped, cutting him off. Her arms crossed tightly over her chest, and she looked away, her anger growing. "I won't agree to this marriage," she said firmly, shaking her head.

Mr. Simon's calm demeanor cracked as his voice turned stern. "Young woman!" he said, his tone filled with authority. "You will agree to this marriage, whether you like it or not!" He stomped his foot on the floor, his frustration boiling over. "Get ready, because you're getting married today."

"What?" Sarah's voice rose in shock, her eyes wide as she stood. "This can't be real. I thought you cared about me-about my life, my dreams, my career as a journalist!"

Mr. Simon sighed deeply, his face briefly softening before he spoke again. "I do care, Sarah. But this is the only way to save the company."

Sarah shook her head in disbelief, her voice rising with frustration. "So, saving the company means sacrificing your own daughter's dreams?" she asked, her tone laced with a mixture of hurt and anger. Mr. Simon looked away, unable to meet her gaze or offer an answer. His silence was deafening.

"I knew it," Sarah muttered bitterly, spinning on her heels and storming out of the house. Her footsteps echoed loudly against the floor as she made her way to the driveway.

"Sarah, wait!" Mr. Simon called out, rushing after her. "Where are you going? Come back here!"

But Sarah ignored him, her mind clouded with rage and disappointment. She climbed into her father's car, slammed the door, and revved the engine. Without a second thought, she sped out of the compound, barely missing the startled gateman who jumped out of the way as the car hurtled past.

The highway was busy, but Sarah's anger fueled her reckless driving. She drove for several kilometers, desperate to find some space to think and cool down. Her grip on the steering wheel was tight, her thoughts racing. She barely noticed the traffic lights turning red as she approached an intersection.

A truck barreled down the crossroad, its horn blaring. Sarah saw it too late. The impact was deafening, a violent collision that sent her car somersaulting multiple times before it slammed into the wall of a nearby coffee shop.

When the car finally came to a stop, it was a mangled wreck. Sarah lay inside, barely conscious, her body battered and bleeding. Her neck was twisted painfully, and every movement sent waves of agony through her. Within minutes, the wail of sirens pierced the air as an ambulance arrived. Paramedics carefully pulled her from the wreckage and rushed her to the hospital.

Meanwhile, Andrew stood in front of the mirror in his room, adjusting his white suit. His expression was blank, almost resigned, as he prepared for the wedding he didn't want. Yet, he knew it wasn't about what he wanted. This was a transaction-a deal to preserve power, silence questions, and cement alliances.

"You look sharp, son," came the voice of Mr. Philips, the mayor, as he entered the room. He smiled proudly at his son, his own suit perfectly pressed and his presence commanding as always.

"Thanks, Dad," Andrew replied, his voice flat but polite. He straightened his tie, glancing at his father through the mirror. The white suit fit perfectly, but it felt more like a costume than anything else.

"This marriage is an opportunity, Andrew," Mr. Philips said, moving closer and placing a firm hand on his son's shoulder. His voice was low but filled with authority. "It will strengthen our position and secure the family's grip on power and wealth. Don't forget that."

"I know, Dad," Andrew said with a small, hollow smile. "I'll make you-"

His words were cut off by the sudden ringing of Mr. Philips' phone. The mayor frowned and stepped back, fishing his phone from his pocket. He glanced at the screen, his face darkening slightly as he answered the call.

"Oh, it's the bride's father calling," Mr. Philips said, smiling as he showed Andrew the phone screen before answering it.

"Hello, Mr. Mayor," Mr. Simon said, his voice trembling as though the words were hard to speak. "There's a problem."

Mr. Philips quickly removed his glasses, his eyebrows rising in confusion. "And what kind of problem are we talking about, Mr. Simon?" he asked, his tone stern and serious.

"Sarah... she's in the hospital. She had an accident," Mr. Simon replied, his voice shaky and filled with worry.

"What?" Mr. Philips yelled, his face twisting in frustration. He ran a hand down his face, his anger building with each second. "Listen, Mr. Simon, this wedding has to happen! I've invited some of the most powerful and respected people in the country. I can't have you and your daughter embarrassing me like this!"

"But... but Mr. Mayor, she's unconscious! How am I supposed to fix this?" Mr. Simon asked, his own frustration starting to show in his voice.

"Fix it," Mr. Philips barked, his voice cold and sharp. "You've got one hour. I don't care what you have to do-even if it means taking the wedding to the hospital-just make sure it happens." Without waiting for a reply, he ended the call.

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I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.

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The Billionaire's Ex Wife Revenge The Billionaire's Ex Wife Revenge Rebecca Bruce Billionaires
“Sarah had planned her life to follow in the footsteps of her father and become a well known renowned journalist. She was on the verge of completing her journalism course when her father had to marry her off in an arranged marriage to the son of a powerful mayor, Andrew. A closed door agreement to save his company.”
1

Chapter 1 Arranged Marriage

21/01/2025

2

Chapter 2 Pregnancy Test

21/01/2025

3

Chapter 3 Secrets

17/02/2025

4

Chapter 4 Feeling

17/02/2025

5

Chapter 5 endless time

17/02/2025

6

Chapter 6 Instinct

20/02/2025

7

Chapter 7 Anxious

20/02/2025

8

Chapter 8 Helpless

20/02/2025

9

Chapter 9 Shake

20/02/2025

10

Chapter 10 Wedding or not

20/02/2025