Mr Prime Minister

No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

Xiao Xiaosu

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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"What time has it been, wicked girl? What a lazy bone, get up and go sweep the chicken coop!"

The taste of death exploded in Stella's ears, tapered to the bone.

Suddenly, her body was slapped so heavily that she thought she was protesting vehemently but ended up making what was nothing more than a slight grunting sound.

"What? Still trying to pretend you're sick? I think you just need more bitter to taste, you'll see, I'll tell grandma and you'll never eat today."

The sound of yelling and shouting was gradually moving away, and the door was slammed with a bang.

At that time, Stella's consciousness slowly returned.

She was dead, she remembered.

In that dark dungeon, in front of that woman's smugness, she suffered a painful death.

But where was here?

Stella slowly opened her eyes, only to see the blackened roof and the hard plank bed beneath her body.

The damp suffocating scent was so familiar, and a terrifying strange feeling scrambled out from Stella's bones.

She remembered!

Here was where she had lived until she was sixteen, the Judd family in Shawnclud Village!

Stella's eyes opened to the max, but tears still spilled out.

The heavens had eyes!

Did God think that she had lived too painfully, too? Was that the reason why he gave her another chance?

Stella cried wordlessly until she convulsed, this life, she would definitely not repeat the mistakes, and this life, she had crawled out of hell to collect her debt from those who had harmed and wronged her!

........

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