Sir, She's Gone With Their Daughter And Never Returns

My four-year-old daughter was dying of leukemia, waiting desperately for a bone marrow transplant. I begged my billionaire husband to just call the registry or visit her, but he claimed he was too busy with board meetings to care. Until the hospital informed me that my daughter's life-saving bone marrow had been suddenly reallocated to another patient. When I walked down the VIP hallway, I found my husband. He wasn't at a board meeting. He was gently peeling an apple, playing the loving father to his widowed mistress's daughter. When my pale, sick daughter called out for him, he instinctively stepped back in disgust. I later discovered the mistress had bribed the hospital to swap the registry numbers, stealing my daughter's marrow for her own child. When I demanded a divorce, my husband laughed in my face. "You haven't worked a day in four years. You're a purchased asset. You don't get to walk away." He threatened to freeze my accounts, assuming I would be starving on the streets and begging to come back. His family and the mistress publicly mocked my background, waiting for me to be utterly humiliated. They thought I was just a useless, penniless housewife who relied entirely on his last name to survive. They didn't know I never needed a single cent of his money. I packed my bags, took my daughter, and made a single phone call. Three days later, at his family's elite banquet, my husband waited to see me beg. Instead, the most powerful corporate magnate in North America walked right past him, bowed to me at a perfect ninety-degree angle, and spoke. "Welcome back to the throne, Madam."

Billionaires Cold love Divorce Arrogant Drama Hidden Identities Billionaire

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In the dark of the night, Loraine Bryant walked nervously to a room, straightening her silk nightgown with sweaty palms.

This was the first time she'd worn such a revealing nightgown, and she wasn't wearing any underwear, either.

There was a cool breeze, and the sensation of it brushing past her skin made her tremble.

Loraine spurred herself on.

There was nothing to be afraid of, she reminded herself.

The man in the room was her husband, Marco Bryant, and they had been married for three years. A nightgown like this was made for times like this.

Patting her face and taking deep, calming breaths, Loraine knocked on the door.

A man appeared, tall and strong-looking. His eyes were unfriendly and his lips were slightly pursed. He was as handsome as a god from an ancient Greek oil painting.

"It's late. What's up?"

His voice was ice cold. It was like looking at a stranger.

Loraine almost lost all the courage she had worked so hard to gather.

"Marco, do you remember what day it is?"

Marco frowned. "Get to the point."

The expectation in Loraine's eyes became disappointment. Forcing a smile, she said, "It's our third wedding anniversary. You've seemed so busy lately. But it doesn't matter; I prepared a surprise for you!"

No sooner had she finished speaking than a woman suddenly stepped out from behind Marco. She stood comfortably by his side and greeted Loraine with a smile.

"Loraine, I've heard so much about you from Marco. We haven't been introduced, have we?"

The woman was beautiful. Her voice was gentle, and her eyes were lively. It made people want to protect her.

But the sight of the woman shocked Loraine. She froze, feeling the warmth drain from her hands and feet.

"Keely? Why are you here?"

Though they had never met, Keely Haywood's existence had always overshadowed Loraine's marriage like a dark cloud.

The house was full of traces of Keely. All the members of the Bryant family had reminded Loraine that Keely was Marco's woman of choice and that Loraine was just the titular Mrs. Bryant.

Noticing Loraine's sexy nightgown, Keely lowered her eyes with embarrassment.

"Marco, am I disturbing you?"

Loraine unleashed her hostility. "Yes, obviously."

The color drained from Keely's face. "I'm sorry. Please don't be angry. I'll leave right away."

As Keely spoke, she moved as though she were about to leave.

Frowning, Marco looked at Loraine and said, "Keely is our guest, Loraine. Watch your attitude."

Standing alone at the door, Loraine felt humiliated, as though she was stripped naked.

Legally, she was his wife, but she hadn't received any respect from Marco or the Bryant family for the past three years.

Marco was always busy with work and seldom came home, and even when he did come home, he never slept in the same room as Loraine.

Now Loraine was being told not to be angry about seeing another woman in Marco's room. What the hell was going on?

All of her efforts, patience and expectations over the past three years had become nothing but a joke.

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