Apartment 46

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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In a dimly-lit hotel room...

Rena Gordon passionately kissed the handsome stranger.

Earlier tonight, her ex-boyfriend, Harold Moore, announced his engagement—with another woman. Rena was so devastated that she got drunk at a bar. Under the influence of alcohol and the strange man's charm, she somehow ended up here.

Now that Harold was marrying a rich girl regardless of his four-year relationship with her, then she could also indulge herself a little, right?

Just as the man was pulling her clothes off, Rena leaned on the man's shoulder and forgot herself, murmuring, "Harold!"

The man stopped abruptly, and the lust in the atmosphere instantly dissipated.

The next second, the lights were flicked on.

The bright light made her squint, but when her eyes finally adjusted to the light, she saw the man's face clearly.

It was Waylen Fowler—the most sought-after lawyer across the country. He was very famous in law circles, and he was an elite with countless assets.

But most importantly, he was the future brother-in-law of Harold, who had just betrayed her.

Rena sobered up instantly.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She almost had sex with the brother of her very rival in love!

Waylen also pulled away from her.

Leaning against the wall, he lit a cigarette. After taking a long drag, he looked her up and down and said playfully, "Very interesting, Miss Gordon."

He flicked the ash off his cigarette and asked with a faint smile, "What were you thinking about just now when you kissed me? Did you want to have sex with me to make Harold jealous?"

Obviously, Waylen also recognized her now.

Rena couldn't pretend that she didn't know this man.

After all, Waylen was famous. She just didn't recognize him earlier because of the alcohol.

She knew that she couldn't afford to offend such a big shot, so she lowered her head and apologized meekly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Fowler. I drank too much."

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