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The Jilted Wife's Spectacular Billionaire Comeback

Zhi Yao

For ten years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to my wealthy husband, managing his severe OCD and hosting flawless high-society parties. But on our tenth anniversary, when I brought him his special hangover soup, I caught him sleeping with my younger sister in our master bedroom. Instead of panicking, he coldly handed me divorce papers with zero assets. He told me I was just a "placeholder" until my sister finished her degree and was ready to take my spot. Desperate, I called my mother for help, only to find out she had known about their affair for years. "You don't have Jana's drive or her looks. You clean house and you cook. That's not a wife, that's a domestic." My own mother sneered at me, telling me to walk away quietly because our family needed his financial support. They kicked me out of the penthouse with nothing but a suitcase, laughing that a woman who hadn't worked in a decade would end up begging on the streets. I bled for this family for ten years, only to be thrown away like garbage when my sister wanted my life. But they didn't know that while I was playing the boring housewife, I had secretly earned a Cordon Bleu diploma, a Cornell nutrition certification, and a Columbia master's degree. Using a hidden photo to blackmail a property out of him, I packed my elite credentials and landed a $300,000-a-year job managing a billionaire's estate. When my ex-husband drunkenly called days later demanding I come back to serve him, I calmly hit block.

Billionaires Divorce Billionaire Female-Centered Divorce Personal Growth

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On a late spring morning, the sunlight, soft and diffuse, gave way to the first strong rays of the day. Flowers were colouring the world for the warmer days to come, waving in the lazy breeze like a smile born of the cosmos—happiness in brilliant shades.

"Achoo --"

Essie Yi sneezed again. She was still in bed, draped in a heavy blanket. Just as she turned to her side she hit her face on something warm and was startled out of her sleep.

'How does the wall get here?'

Forcing her eyelids open, Essie sat bolt upright and whipped her head around in wide-eyed confusion.

After taking a moment to shed the sleep away from her eyes, she recognized the familiar floral curtains hanging at each side and the small oval table next to her bed.

It was her room. Yes!

Essie put her hand on her chest and breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps it was just a dream.

She closed her eyes and was just about to drift off again when a big hand reached out from behind and touched her back. The suddenness of the touch made her tremble like a dry leaf. As she turned her head around, there was the handsome face of a stranger sleeping next to her.

"Oh my God!" a panicked scream broke out from her lips, shaking the walls of the room.

'What is going on? Did this guy break into my apartment?'

The man lying next to her was startled out of his sleep by her screaming. He shot up from bed like a jack-in-the-box, momentarily shocked and disoriented. Then, suddenly, his expression froze, allowing an eerie chill to permeate the air.

Essie jumped into the corner of the bed and quickly wrapped herself up with the blanket. It was unnecessary, as it was obvious that the other party had seen her naked.

Suffice it to say, the man didn't seem very happy.

Essie grasped her aching forehead, desperately scrambling in her mind to make sense of everything, but her effort was all in vain.

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