A Betrayed Wife Left To Die? She Rose As The Tech Empress
Ten years as childhood friends and three as husband and wife ended in her husband's betrayal, and her brothers' indifference. Diagnosed with mid-stage stomach cancer, Roselyn saw the truth of her life.
She walked away from everything, rising from an overlooked office worker to a leading figure in the tech world.
She outplayed her husband into signing divorce papers. When they met again, he begged, "I was wrong... take me back. I'd give you my stomach if I could."
Her once arrogant brothers pleaded too, but she felt nothing. After all, love that arrived too late meant nothing to her now-she simply didn't care anymore.
As they stood desperate, a man stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms. "Why waste time on them? Look at me instead."
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Chapter 2
Back at her desk, Roselyn set the documents aside, reached for her phone, and took a picture of the divorce agreement.
She sent the image to Jenifer Riley, Adrian's mother.
The day after she received her diagnosis, Roselyn had already met with Jenifer to talk about ending the marriage.
For a long time, Jenifer had wanted Adrian free from this relationship so he could finally marry the Hudson heiress and secure the backing of a powerful family.
Now that Roselyn was terminally ill and her time was uncertain, Jenifer only grew more eager to remove her from the Riley family.
She had made a clear offer. If Roselyn could get Adrian to sign, thirty million would be given as compensation.
A reply came through almost at once. "Understood."
After that, Roselyn slipped both the medical report and the divorce papers into her bag. She then opened her drawer and took out a resignation letter she had prepared two days earlier.
The choice had already been made, so there was no reason to hesitate. It needed to be done properly.
Holding the letter along with a set of completed documents, she made her way to the finance director's office.
Gerald, the finance director, was a middle-aged man with glasses, who carried a calm and scholarly air.
The moment Gerald saw the paper she handed him, his expression changed, and concern quickly followed.
"Ms. Hudson, are you leaving?"
Over the years, Roselyn had been the one he relied on the most. Her presence had kept Gerald's position steady.
Once Roselyn was gone, nothing would feel certain anymore.
A small nod came from Roselyn. "Yes. Thank you for everything you've done for me."
Since the marriage had never been made public, almost no one knew Roselyn was Adrian's wife.
Gerald leaned forward and lightly caught her sleeve. "If this is about your pay, I can talk to management. A raise and a promotion aren't out of reach."
A small smile formed on her lips. "It's not about that."
"You're really going through with this?"
"Yes."
Once she chose to walk away from Adrian, staying in his company no longer made sense.
The certainty in her voice left Gerald with nothing more to say.
With a quiet sigh, he picked up his pen and signed the letter.
After setting it down, Gerald looked up again. "What should I write as your reason for leaving?"
Roselyn met his gaze and spoke firmly. "Health reasons. Work can wait. Life can't."
Surprise showed on his face, and he didn't press further.
Both the resignation and the divorce would take one month to complete.
When that time passed, she would finally be free.
That evening, Roselyn returned home. She walked over to the calendar she had bought the day before, tore off the first page, crushed it in her hand, and threw it away.
The fresh page showed July 1st in bold red. By August 1st, one month later, she would walk out of this house for good.
Donna, the housekeeper, approached with a plate of fruit. Her eyes landed on the calendar resting on the table. "Ma'am, what made you buy this? It looks... old-fashioned."
A faint smile appeared on Roselyn's face. "It's easier this way. I want to see the days pass. My birthday's coming up, so this helps me keep track."
Donna looked puzzled.
A phone could have done the same thing.
Hardly anyone used something like that anymore.
Donna held back whatever questions lingered in her mind. She placed the fruit on the table, then quietly headed back to the kitchen.
Just before stepping fully inside, she stopped at the doorway. "Ma'am, I almost forgot. I called Mr. Riley earlier. He said he's tied up with a business dinner tonight and won't be coming back."
Roselyn reached for a grape and ate it. "Alright, noted."
The response caught Donna off guard.
In the past, news like that would've set Roselyn off. She would've called again and again, trying to confirm where he was.
Nothing ever slipped past her. She had to know every detail.
There was even a time when she secretly installed tracking software on Adrian's phone.
Later, for reasons unknown, Roselyn ended up in the ICU after slitting her wrist.
Now, she remained completely calm without questions or any reaction.
That quiet felt wrong.
A ringing sound broke the silence as the phone on the coffee table lit up. Roselyn glanced over. Stefan Hudson, her cousin, was calling.
Roselyn picked it up, and his voice came through, careful and measured. "Hey, Roselyn. You done with work? Am I catching you at a bad time?"
Roselyn's gaze dropped to the sliced apple in her hand. "I'm free. Just got back home. What's up?"
A short pause followed before Stefan continued, "I just got promoted, and my salary went up too. Mom and Dad were talking about you earlier. They want you to come have dinner with us."
Roselyn didn't hesitate. "Alright, I'll come."
"I'll swing by and get you," Stefan said.
Once the call ended, Roselyn stood up and went to change.
Before leaving, she told Donna she wouldn't be home for dinner, then stepped out of the villa.
Donna stayed where she was, watching her leave, though she kept her thoughts to herself.
She still believed Roselyn hadn't let go of Adrian. Someone like her wouldn't stay silent for long.
Something was bound to happen.
...
As she walked, Roselyn glanced at the message Stefan had just sent on WhatsApp.
His car had stalled from running out of gas, and he told her to wait for a bit.
Roselyn replied with a short "Okay."
Stefan was three years older than her. At twenty-seven, he was still unmarried, which had his parents constantly worrying.
Whenever marriage came up, he would brush it aside and refuse to take it seriously.
Roselyn didn't keep in touch with most of the Hudson family, but things were different with her uncle, Frank Hudson's household. Since they never had a daughter, they had always treated her as one of their own.
Back then, when Roselyn's mother walked away from the divorce with nothing, it was Frank's family who stepped in to help them.
To Roselyn and her mother, they were the closest family they had.
After passing through the main gate of the residential area, Roselyn waited for a few minutes before her phone rang again.
"Roselyn, traffic's bad right now. I've got a friend nearby, so I asked him to come get you," Stefan said.
Before he could finish, a black Bentley stopped right in front of her. The driver lowered the window, revealing a face she hadn't seen in years.
Still holding the phone, Roselyn hesitated before replying, "I think... he's already here."
The man had defined features, dressed in a black shirt with the sleeves pushed up, showing his forearms.
Kevin Wheeler looked at her, and his thoughts drifted back to five years ago.
At that time, Roselyn used to trail after him with her books, calling his name and asking him to explain things.
Time had changed her. That earlier version of her was gone, replaced by someone more composed.
Now, Roselyn stood there in a fitted lavender dress, her hair tied into a high ponytail. There was unease in her eyes, and she looked noticeably thinner.
Kevin's gaze deepened as he looked at her. "Get in."
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7.5
To save my family's dying company, I was forced to marry a billionaire I hadn't seen in fourteen years.
But right outside the City Clerk's office, he tossed our marriage certificate at me like a cheap receipt and shoved a four-year-old boy into my arms.
"Your new life has begun. You're on babysitting duty now."
He sneered and left me stranded on the sidewalk. I realized with absolute horror that my new husband was Ellsworth Marshall, the sickly boy I had relentlessly bullied in middle school.
He didn't spend five billion dollars to save the Bradford family. He bought me to execute a slow, suffocating revenge.
He used his orphaned nephew as a pawn, explicitly threatening my father that if I failed to play the perfect, compliant nanny, he would instantly destroy our family's legacy.
He even had his guards lock me out of his Long Island estate on my first night, forcing me to stand in the cold dark just to prove he owned me.
I was trapped in a gilded cage, suffocated by the guilt of my past and the terror of my present.
Why did he involve an innocent child in his twisted vendetta? How much humiliation was enough to pay for my childhood cruelty?
Looking at the terrified little boy clinging to my skirt, I tightened my grip on my suitcase.
If he wanted to destroy my will piece by piece, I had to find a way to survive the monster I created.
9.3
Born into privilege, Eleanor never imagined her life could shatter in a single night. Then her father disappeared with his mistress, her mother fell from a building and slipped into a coma, and everything she once owned turned to dust.
Determined not to ruin Jonathan's future with her family's disgrace, she ended their relationship and became the bride of a man trapped in a vegetative state.
She believed that was the last time their paths would cross. But two years later, Jonathan pinned her in the dark and whispered, "Long time no see, my sister-in-law."
8.8
My husband thought I was just a docile wife, easily controlled. He didn't know I'd spent five years meticulously dismantling his life. Tonight, his world would finally crumble into dust.
For five years, I endured Jackson's entitled demands and his family's greed, silently funding their lavish life in our Beverly Hills mansion.
My illusion shattered finding his mistress Amber's lingerie in his suitcase. My attorney just severed all financial ties, making Jackson's arrogant demands hollow.
I tossed my diamond ring into the trash, summoning an industrial compactor. Jackson, his mother, and mistress watched in horror as their designer luggage, bought with my money, was crushed, turning their lavish trip into garbage.
A cold, dead smile marked my cathartic release from five years of betrayal. How could they be so blind to the woman they dismissed?
Stepping into an armored Maybach, I left them in chaos. My iPad confirmed Jackson's credit cards freezing. This wasn't just divorce; it was a calculated demolition, making their pampered lives very real.
8.4
On the night before her wedding, Navia Harrison discovers her fiancé in bed with her step-sister-and worse, the two of them are already planning how to get rid of her after the marriage.
Humiliated and consumed by hatred, Navia exposes their affair during the wedding ceremony itself, destroying both families' reputations in a single move.
Then, she meets him.
Leonel Crawford - the cold and dangerously powerful head of the Crawford family. Untouchable. Ruthless. A man no woman has ever been able to keep close.
He's also her ex-fiancé's uncle.
One impulsive proposal changes everything.
"If you need a wife... marry me instead."
"Honestly... we'd make a pretty good match."
8.5
Alexandrea woke up with a splitting headache in a strange hotel bed, terrified to find a brutally handsome, half-naked stranger beside her.
Before she could even scream, the door burst open. Her adoptive mother, Ivette, stormed in with a swarm of reporters and flashing cameras.
"How could you disgrace our family name like this?"
Ivette sobbed, putting on a theatrical performance of a heartbroken mother. It was a setup to completely ruin Alexandrea's reputation in front of New York's elite.
For ten years, Alexandrea had lived in a house of horrors. Her back and arms were covered in silvery scars and puckered cigarette burns left by Ivette's vicious abuse.
Yet to the public, Ivette had carefully crafted Alexandrea's image as a wild, ungrateful, and manipulative liar.
Trapped under the duvet, Alexandrea was drowning in shame, her voice lost in the storm of accusations.
She didn't understand why her adoptive family hated her so much, treating her worse than a stray dog while using her brother's future to keep her chained.
But what she understood even less was the stranger beside her.
Instead of panicking, the man slowly sat up, his presence alone silencing the frantic room. He was Ace Griffith, the billionaire heir who owned half of Manhattan.
He wrapped his suit jacket around her trembling shoulders, looked Ivette dead in the eye, and dropped a bomb.
"I will be marrying her."
Then, he carried Alexandrea away from her ten-year prison, ordering his men to dig up the Terry family's darkest secrets and her true identity.
7.5
I was Nyx, a top-tier covert operative. But when I opened my eyes, I was trapped in the unfamiliar, overweight body of a bullied girl named Eliza.
Before I could even process the body swap, the bedroom door splintered open. I was in bed with Julian Malone, a wealthy military heir, both of us heavily drugged. Cameras flashed wildly. It was a vicious setup to ruin his career, and I was the bait.
To save his family's reputation, Julian was forced to marry me. But the moment the wedding was over, he abandoned me. His elite family treated me like a disease. His mother froze my only bank account, trying to starve me into submission.
I even intercepted a private conversation between his parents.
"Once she's in a private facility, she loses all legal standing. We can sign anything we want on her behalf."
They planned to lock me up in a mental asylum and erase my existence entirely to get rid of the "trailer park trash."
To them, I was just a weak, pathetic pawn they could crush without a second thought. They thought they had backed a helpless girl into a corner.
They had no idea they had just declared war on a lethal weapon.
I didn't cry or beg. Instead, I bypassed their state-of-the-art security, cracked their safe, and stole the financial secrets that could destroy their entire empire.
"I want five hundred thousand dollars, or these files go to the IRS."
This time, I was playing by my own rules.