Suits Aces 3

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Huo Wuer

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband's Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn't find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn't even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father's legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn's party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara's health and managing every detail of Caden's empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I'd drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause-if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I'd forgotten.

Modern Divorce Ex-wife

Download the Book on the App

He sat quietly in the swivel chair while one hand played the red soft stress ball. He leaned back in his seat while waiting patiently for someone he hadn't talked to in a long time since after the Silver Game five years ago.

He rolled his eyes around his office. The place was spacious. The things he put in the office from the drawer, bookshelf, leather couches, glass centered table, paintings, cactus plant pot, computer sets, glass desk, air-conditioned environment, and his vintage cartridge were all expensive.

His gaze shifted to the door opening. He adjusted his eating, straightening his broad back. A woman with long straight hair like the color of the night entered. His deep dark blue eyes went to the woman"s outfit, a fitted purple tee shirt, high waist tattered black jeans, five inches black boots heels, and she's holding the black denim jacket on her arm.

"Am I too late, Windfall?" she asked him as she sat in the chair opposite him.

A broadened smile set on his face. "Not that long, Demise. And? Why does it bring you here?"

"I have something to ask of you," she said as the aura of her face changed. Gone is the bright smile and happy eyes settled on her face. Now he confirmed it's not as simple as what her expression look.

"What?" He seriously laid both arms on the desk, playing his chin with his hand.

He stared intently into her striking violet eyes. A natural inborn by her. Her red lips turn into a smirk. One of his eyebrows rose at what she did.

"I have something important to do. I'll leave my position being a leader for a year or so."

He could not believe what she had stated. What was it that made her leave for a few years?

"What! Are you serious of it, Demise?" His two eyebrows furrowed.

"Very serious, Windfall. About that thing, I'm going to beg you," she said while crossing her leg.

Read Now