No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

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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“Poor bride. She’s been standing there for hours waiting for the groom,” I heard a woman’s whispering voice.

“It’s truly so sad. I can’t imagine how sad she’s feeling,” Another woman replied in a hushed tone.

“Do you think the groom has ditched her?” A man whispered in a low voice.

“That would be too sad. Please don’t say that…” Another woman replied with what seemed to be genuine sadness in her voice.

I stood silently in front of the altar in a white wedding dress that was far too elegant for my tastes and far too heavy for my comfort. The overly high-heel shoes that I was wearing was starting to hurt my feet and my legs were starting to feel sore from standing still for too long. I clenched and then unclenched my hands together for the hundredth time, or something along those lines since I had already lost count.

The sequined lace fabric of the dress that covered my arms in a long sleeve was itchy, not that anyone cared. I didn’t choose this dress. I have never met my groom. I was in love with another man. Most of all, I didn’t want to get married.

Yes. Me, Malissa Maxford is being forced into a contract marriage with the heir of the largest global mafia syndicate.

It was cold inside the white marble church; however, I was sweating in discomfort. I don’t know how long I’ve been standing here just waiting for my future husband to arrive. It must have been at least a couple of hours and everyone else have gotten restless and anxious.

If this had been a wedding that I wanted, I would have felt so worried that the groom has not shown up. However, the truth is, I didn’t care if he never shows up. Actually, it would be for the better for us all if he never showed up. Then the wedding would be called off and my grandmother and I can return to our normal and peaceful life.

I glanced sideway to see my frail and very sick granny sitting in a wheelchair with a nurse standing close behind her. I wish this wedding or whatever would be over quickly so that she can return to rest at the hospital. My grandmother was very old, and recently, I had discovered that she was very sick. The doctors couldn’t tell me how much longer she had left but even my untrained eye could tell that it wasn’t very long.

“Where’s the groom?” a man asked in a hush voice.

“Good questions. We’ve been waiting for almost three hours already…” another man replied before yawning.

“Shhhh…be quiet. The boss will kill you if he hears,” another man hissed to the other two.

“Has someone found him yet?” another voice asked seriously.

“I sent a bunch of men from my squad already. It shouldn’t take much longer…” someone else replied but I couldn’t sense much conviction from his voice.

“Don’t stare at the boss. He’ll kill you if he sees you staring…” one of the men hissed.

“That’s right. He’s definitely not in a good mood,” another one said with a sigh.

“What is that damn son of his doing?” the other said in a very soft whisper.

“Exactly, it’s his wedding and he’s not even here…” another man replied in agreement.

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