The Neglected Wife's Secret: Genius Designer Aria

Chapter 4 No.4

Word Count: 662 | Released on: 22/01/2026

ice was audible even from where Felicity stood. It was a

rned on his heel. He walked rapidly to the elevator, pressing the button with unnecessary force

ty was

ing. The adrenaline that had fueled her confr

oom. She pulled her old suitcase from the back of the

ortable sweaters. She left the couture gowns, the silk blouses, the uncomfortable lingerie Garold liked. She p

re. She opened it. Diamonds, emeralds, pearls. Gifts for

t and placed it on the mahogany surface. Be

le indentation on her skin. She set it on top of the divorce papers

he suitcase.

ng fluid and garbage, but it meant she didn't have

nging shadows bac

unbuttoned at the collar. Dealing with Jenilee had be

y?" he c

iding. We need to

living room. Empt

bedroom. "I'm not in

of designer clothes were still there, but the shelves where she kept h

at the n

And on top of them, catching

t felt heavy in his palm. A surge of irrational anger

ce, shoved the thick stack of documents into the shredder, and hit the bu

until I say so," he mu

He looked at the call

omposing himself. "

ndler's voice was sharp, crack

resting,"

expect her to look presentable. And Garold? I've decided she needs a real job. The

his temple. "I

u do." The l

ded her to play the part for Rose, or his inherit

Felicity

Then straigh

he leather couch. It boun

Chapter End

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The Neglected Wife's Secret: Genius Designer Aria

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“I sat in the sterile silence of a VIP fertility clinic, clutching my Chanel purse and praying for good news after three years of trying for a baby. But as the doctor told me my body was "pristine," my phone lit up with a Page Six headline: "Garold Chandler Spotted with Mystery Woman at OB-GYN-Heir on the Way?" The "mystery woman" was Jenilee Shaw, and the man in the charcoal suit was my husband. That night, I waited up to show him the news, but he didn't even offer an apology. When I asked if he ever wanted children, he pried my hands off him and looked at me with cold, dead eyes. "Not with you," he said, before walking away to take a shower. I packed my bags and left a divorce agreement on his nightstand, but Garold wasn't about to let his "perfect" wife go that easily. He shredded the papers and froze every one of my credit cards, leaving me stranded with forty dollars and a crumbling family estate. He even mocked me when I accidentally texted him for a loan, telling me to come home and beg for my allowance like a child. He thought he had me cornered, but he forgot one thing: I wasn't just his trophy wife. Years ago, I was "Aria," the anonymous design genius the fashion world had been hunting for. I didn't need his money-I had a secret offshore account and a lead designer job at his biggest rival. As I walked into Twelve Bridges for my first day, I ran into his mistress and smiled. "Keep him," I told her. "I'm bored of the three-minute disappointments."”