Her little secret

No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

Xiao Xiaosu

I went to the City Clerk’s office for a routine copy of my marriage license to finalize a trust fund audit. I expected a simple piece of paper, but the clerk’s pitying look told me my entire life was a lie. "The license was never finalized, Ms. Oliver. In the eyes of the state, you are single." The three-hundred-guest wedding at the Plaza and the Vogue features meant nothing. My husband, Gray Cooley, had intentionally filed the documents with a "procedural defect" so he could discard me without a legal divorce. Moments later, an iCloud invite titled "Our Little Secret" popped up on my screen. It was a photo of my best friend, Brylee, holding a positive pregnancy test at our Hamptons estate. Gray’s text to her was the final blow: "Happy anniversary, babe. This baby is the best gift. Once the trust unlocks today, we’re done with the charade." I soon discovered they were even stealing my career, reassigning my architectural masterpiece to Brylee while preparing my eviction notice. Gray's mother called me a "barren mule" in a leaked recording, mocking the infertility I suffered after saving Gray’s life in a construction accident. I wasn't a wife; I was a three-year placeholder used to secure his inheritance. How could the man I bled for treat me like a disposable prop? How could my best friend carry his child while pretending to comfort me through my darkest moments? The betrayal burned until it turned into a cold, hard stone of fury. I didn't cry. Instead, I walked into the penthouse of the Barretts, the Cooleys' most powerful rivals. I signed a marriage contract with Kane Barrett, the man the tabloids called the "Beast of Wall Street." "I want a wedding," I told his father, my voice steady and lethal. "Bigger than the one I had with Gray." If they wanted me gone, they would have to watch me become the woman who owns their world.

Modern Revenge Divorce

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"Room 957, I will greatly appreciate it if you can take me there." Rhett raised her eyebrows as she pointed to a card. She would come to work at the party for the night, which paid well.

"You can help yourself!" Crystal pushed him away, then tucked the card back into his shirt before slowly moving forward. This was a party for the wealthy; if she could assist him, she would be rewarded handsomely; if he was not kind enough, she could take some of his possessions.

She turned back and took his hand. "I will help you!" His room was only a few steps away from their current location; she only had to wake up for a minute before she arrived, authorized the card, and the door opened.

"You are so heavy!" She said that after putting him to bed, it was time for her to do her job. She moved closer to him, searching his pockets; his eyes were already closed, and he was probably too drunk to remember what she stole from him.

She was searching through her pockets when she felt his hand pull her in; she was only a few inches away from his face at the time. "What are you doing?" he inquired.

'He is still awake!' She screamed in her mind, wondering why she had not been more cautious.

"I am helping you with your clothes." She said nervously, smiling and ready to get out of his bed, but he still pulled her back.

"But I do not know you..." He whispered in a low voice, appearing uncomfortable; she could only persuade him otherwise.

"You begged me to help you, and I did, so do not blame me," she said nervously, but he still held her arm tightly.

"I am not his son, so I do not trust you, I do not trust anyone," he said, drawing him closer to her, her heart racing. Rich people usually have a lot of bodyguards; what if they showed up at this moment and held her down, refusing to let her leave?

"Since I have helped you, let me go," she hurriedly stood up, but he pulled her back, her lips landing on his.

"You..." She said and tried to slap him, but he was already sleeping, so she could not hurt him; it was probably not intentional, she sighed as she stormed out of the room.

"I have not taken anything from him," she hit her head as soon as she remembered, turning back to see a guard already standing at the door, what a missed opportunity.

'MORNING!!' The hotel attendant screamed from outside; he could not have entered the room without permission, and based on the number of knocks, the person inside was most likely sleeping.

Rhett got out of bed, exhausted from being woken up so early and still drowsy. He opened the door and found the attendant standing there.

"You must move out as soon as possible because your pay has expired!" The attendant said, and Rhett nodded slowly, thinking it was the stupidest reason to wake someone in the morning. He slammed the door shut and returned to his bedside.

He took his phone and saw fifteen missed calls from Ash, so he quickly called him back to see what was going on.

"You are already involved in a scandal, and thousands of reporters are waiting at the door!" He screamed, and Rhett arched his brow; this was not such a big deal to him.

"Why are you acting surprised?" "It happens all the time, it is fine," he put down the phone and was about to hang up when he heard him say.

"It is different this time around, there is evidence," Ash screamed at the top of his lungs, loud enough for him to hear.

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