STIGMA

Cheated On Me? I Married a Tycoon

Rum Runner

I spent three years building my husband, Axel Farrell, into Silicon Valley's ultimate "family man." As his lead PR strategist, I carefully managed his public image, making sure the world saw him as a perfect, devoted husband while I worked in the shadows of our estate. The illusion shattered when he came home one night smelling of sandalwood and roses, with three deep fingernail scratches carved into his back. When I tried to check his phone, the passcode we had used for years-our wedding anniversary-had been changed. The betrayal got worse the next morning when his mother called me a "defective product" and tried to force me into a fertility clinic. Axel didn't defend me; instead, he shoved me against a marble bar at a public gala to protect his mistress in front of the world's elite. By the time I tried to leave, Axel had frozen my bank accounts and filed a forged legal petition to have me declared mentally incompetent. He planned to have me legally kidnapped and locked in a private psychiatric ward just to stop me from filing for divorce. He even blocked every major law firm in the city from taking my case, leaving me with no money, no identity, and no one to turn to. I couldn't understand how the man who "saved" me from the mud years ago could be the same monster now trying to legally erase my existence. Was our entire marriage just a grooming process to exploit my genius for his billion-dollar empire? As the deadline for my forced commitment approached, I stopped crying and opened my laptop. I leaked the video of his affair to every tech journalist in the country, watching his stock price crash in real-time. "Axel thinks starving me out will make me crawl back to him," I whispered as I walked into the headquarters of his biggest rival. "But he forgot that the most valuable part of his company is in my head." I was no longer the abandoned wife; I was the one who was going to take his throne and burn it to the ground.

Modern Revenge Bankruptcy Billionaires Female-Centered Ex-wife

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Golden rays of sunlight washed into the bedroom, shafts from the huge windows spilling over the two occupants sleeping on a king-size bed. The woman groaned and shifted on the bed. Her long tresses tickled her bare skin. Her hands splayed on a torso of a man as she slept soundly, her naked body pressed against him.

She slowly woke up, wondering why was her pillow too warm to touch. The woman moaned softly, and her brows twitched as the sunlight hit her face, making her aware that it was already morning.

Luna Jiang just wanted to spend most of her days in her bed. Most of her nights passed by with her working on the advertisement for the newest phone that their company launched yesterday. Good thing it was already Saturday, and she didn't have to do anything for today.

Her hand unconsciously gripped the nearest pillow to her body, but she was surprised when she felt naked skin beneath her fingers. She opened her eyes in confusion and propped an elbow to lift her torso from the bed. Her gaze landed on a man smiling down on her, and she jolted up from her lying position while clutching the sheets to her chest, covering her breast from his sight.

"Where am I? This isn't my place!" Luna Jiang blurted out.

Her eyes looked around, seeing she was in an unfamiliar room. From the looks of it, it seemed she was in a hotel. She looked down on her body and noticed the darkening hickeys on her chest and that she was in her birthday suit. Her clothes littered the floor beside the bed.

"Oh, God … no … what did I do?" she murmured to herself. It finally dawned to her what had taken place apparently.

"You seemed surprised." A cold and stoic voice of a man startled her. She almost jumped out of her skin when she heard his voice. She couldn't believe the situation she found herself in. Her heart skipped a beat.

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