His Forbidden Mate

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 Revenge Female-centered Divorce

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Chapter 1.

Stoneville. May 13, 1814.

"Grandma! The scrolls are shining! The walls are glowing but I can not tell the writings on the wall!" Clara cried out.

"What?" 94 years old Annabel spoke immediately and sprung from her seat.

"It stopped glowing immediately after I saw it and it suddenly disappeared!" Clara added.

"Those walls have not glowed in 7 decades now! What must it be?" She blurted out as a heavy lump rose in her throat.

She picked her staff and started walking toward the chamber. When she got there, she saw Clara by the door as she gave her a look.

"Let us see what the Progenitors have to say. I just hope it is good" she spoke and Clara felt fear grip her immediately.

When they got into the chamber, Annabel saw the scrolls glowing as she took one of them, she opened it and there were writings on the walls immediately.

Clara watched in terror as she wished that she could also read the writing on the scrolls and walls.

But she could only read it when her grandma, Annabel was dead and she would succeed her. For they can never be two scroll keepers.

Annabel kept her eyes glued to the wall as her facial expression changed immediately.

"What does it say?" Clara was agitated.

"There is a new prophecy! Prepare! We are going to meet the Queen! It is about her pregnancy!" Annabel, the keeper of the seven scrolls announced after reading the handwriting on the wall.

"What does it mean? What does the prophesy say?" Clara inquired.

"You have not been reading your manuals lately that is why you are asking me such questions! Scroll keepers are not allowed to announce a prophecy except in the presence of the council. I can not even say it to the Queen alone except in the Council, even if the prophecy is about her pregnancy!" Annabel tutored as she walked out of the chamber with Clara trailing at her back.

The doors of the chamber closed immediately after they left.

"But why can't you relay the message to the Queen first since the prophecy is about her?" Clara inquired.

"Because of political ambitions my dear. When you become the next scroll keeper, you would understand all this. Now stop bothering granny and go hit the giant bell! The council needs to gather before we arrive!" Annabel instructed as 16 years old Clara nodded and ran to the giant bell.

She held the rope that was connected to the bell and started dragging it as it gave a ringing sound. She did it three times and ran back to her grandma that was waiting for her.

"Now, let us go" she said as they walked out of the house with Clara locking the door after them.

*.*

At the council meeting.

The black and witch witches were gathered as Queen Ursula sat on her throne, heavily pregnant. Lucas, the king sat next to her as he was visibly worried about the incoming prophecy.

All the council elders were visibly scared as they murmured and hoped that the prophesy be good.

"Why is Annabel taking so much time?" One of the elders who is a white witch spoke as they turned to look at him.

"Annabel is an old lady. We should pardon her and wait patiently. She summoned us here, and I believe that she would be here, anytime soon" King Lucas said as the hall became dead silent.

A royal attendant suddenly walked to the hall as he took a bow.

"Annabel, the keeper of the seven scrolls, is here" he announced and quickly left as Annabel was seen, walking with the aid of her stick with Clara, trailing at her back.

"Forgive an old lady for coming this late, my old feet can not carry me like they used to" she apologized and took a bow, Clara saw what her grandmother did and did the same.

"Annabel, you are welcome!" Queen Ursula spoke for the first time and she seemed calm.

"Thank you, my Queen" she bowed.

"My King" she bowed too and bowed at the council as she decided to start to the point as all eyes were fixed on her.

"There has been a prophecy and I believe that it is causing chaos because there has not been anything from our ancestors for 70 years now" she began as everyone listened attentively.

"But this prophecy has to do with the Queen" she announced as everyone gasped except the Queen who was still calm.

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