undefined

Phoenix Rising: The Scarred Heiress's Revenge

Xiao Hong Mao

I lived as the "scarred ghost" of the Stephens penthouse, a wife kept in the shadows because my facial burns offended my billionaire husband's aesthetic. For years, I endured Kason's coldness and my family's abuse, a submissive puppet who believed she had nowhere else to go. The end came with a blue folder tossed onto my silk sheets. Kason's mistress was back, and he wanted me out by sunset, offering a five-million-dollar "silence fee" to go hide my face in the countryside. The betrayal cut deep when I discovered my father had already traded my divorce for a corporate bailout. My step-sister mocked my "trashy" appearance at a high-end boutique, while the sales staff treated me like a common thief. At home, my father threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving medicine unless I crawled back to Kason to beg for a better deal. I was the girl who took the blame for a fire she didn't start, the wife who worshipped a man who never looked her in the eye, and the daughter used as a human bargaining chip. I was supposed to be broken, penniless, and desperate. But the woman who stood up wasn't the weak Elease Finch anymore; she was Phoenix, a tactical predator with a $500 million secret. I signed the divorce papers without a single tear, walked past my stunned husband, and wiped the Finch family's bank accounts clean with a few taps on my phone. "Your money is dirty," I told Kason with a cold smile. "I prefer clean hands." The cage is open, the hunt has begun, and I'm starting with the people who thought a scar made me weak.

Modern Revenge

Download the Book on the App

On a quiet, summer night in Wragos, Rosalynn Fuller sat on the sofa in her home, browsing through some news on her phone.

"Brian Hughes, CEO of Hughes Group, attended a social event with the famous actress, Eleanor Hilton. They later retired to a hotel and spent the night together. Intimate pictures of the two have been captured..."

This particular article was among the trending topics online, and it spread all over the Internet like wildfire.

Rosalynn pushed her black-framed glasses against the bridge of her nose and peered at the photos published with the article, her face devoid of any expression.

The pictures were blurry, but one could make out the silhouette of a man and a woman kissing by the window.

This man, Brian Hughes, was none other than her husband, and the heir to the wealthiest and most influential family in the city.

He was a powerful man who had control over the economic lifeline of the entire city.

As ridiculous as it would sound to most people, Brian had never set foot in their home since they got married two years ago.

In fact, he hadn't even shown up when their marriage was registered.

Instead, he had sent his lawyer to represent him, completing the entire process by proxy.

Rosalynn was aware from the start that Brian was against their union.

The only reason he had relented was because of his grandmother, Debora Hughes.

By some twist of fate, Rosalynn's grandfather had once saved Debora. When she expressed her desire to repay him for the favor, he had boldly requested her grandson to marry his granddaughter in hopes of giving her a comfortable and carefree life.

At first, Rosalynn had harbored some hope for her marriage.

But over the last couple of years, Brian had constantly seen dating various actresses. It was more than enough to disappoint her and shatter her naive illusions.

Rosalynn pursed her lips as she finished reading the article, then she went over to her contact list, searched for Brian's number, and called him.

This was the first time she had ever called Brian.

Soon, the call connected.

"Hello, this is Rosalynn."

"Rosalynn? Which Rosalynn?"

Brian's voice was deep and smooth. Although his tone was unmistakably cold, listening to him was quite a pleasant experience.

His words, however, were another matter entirely. Rosalynn sneered and clenched her fingers tightly around her phone.

He didn't even remember his own wife's name.

"This is your wife. At least on paper, anyway."

"Ah. What do you want?"

Brian's tone became even colder.

"I want a divorce," Rosalynn answered as she jabbed her glasses against her face.