After Divorce, I Married My Husband's Enemy

"Thank you all for coming," Diana announced, her voice echoing through the microphone.

She stood under the ballroom's massive chandelier, wearing a diamond necklace that blinded the front row.

"Tonight is not just about charity," she continued, dabbing a fake tear from her eye. "It is about family. After twenty-four years of searching, the Kensington family has finally found their missing daughter. Me."

Gasps erupted across the banquet hall. Applause thundered.

"The Kensingtons?" a woman whispered next to me. "New York's oldest dynasty? No wonder Bill Montgomery keeps her so close."

"I heard she grew up in an orphanage," a man added, swirling his champagne. "Such a tragic beginning for an elite."

"Tragic?" a woman sneered. "She's a billionaire now. The Kensingtons own half the real estate in Manhattan."

I clenched my jaw. Diana didn't grow up in an orphanage. She grew up in a comfortable suburban home in Ohio. She bragged about it during her job interview last year.

Diana stepped off the stage. The crowd parted for her like royalty. Photographers snapped wildly, capturing her every step. She walked straight toward my table, a smug smile plastered across her face.

"Enjoying the party, Olivia?" Diana asked, stopping a few feet away.

"You're a fraud," I stated flatly.

"Excuse me?" Diana gasped, placing a hand over her chest.

"You heard me. The Kensingtons are going to arrest you the second they run a real background check. You're from Ohio, Diana."

"Are you jealous?" Diana asked, lowering her voice so the reporters couldn't hear. "Is that why you showed up tonight? To ruin my moment?"

"I showed up because this is a charity for the local symphony," I shot back. "The symphony Bill just banned me from."

"Watch your mouth," Bill snapped, appearing right behind her. He wrapped a protective arm around Diana's waist.

He didn't look like a man who just discovered his assistant was a billionaire heiress. He looked like a man who had planned this all along.

He slammed a thick manila folder onto the white tablecloth.

"It's over, Olivia."

I stared at the bold letters on the top page. *Petition for Dissolution of Marriage.*

"You're doing this here?" I asked, keeping my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands. "In front of everyone?"

"Diana deserves her proper place," Bill stated. He tossed a gold pen on top of the documents. "Sign it, and I can still give you a sum of money. A million dollars. More than enough to replace that broken violin."

"A million dollars?" I scoffed. "You freeze my accounts, destroy my career, and now you want to buy me off?"

"It's a generous offer," Bill warned. "Take it before I change my mind and leave you with nothing."

I picked up the pen. The metal felt like ice against my skin. My fingers shook.

"You plotted this," I muttered. "The fake heart attack. The fake inheritance. All to get rid of me legally."

"Sign the paper, Olivia," Diana urged softly. "Don't make a scene. You don't belong in our world anymore."

"Our world?" I laughed, a harsh sound that made a few nearby guests turn their heads. "You're wearing my clothes and sleeping in my bed. You don't have a world. You just stole mine."

"She is a Kensington," Bill interrupted. "You are a nobody from a rundown orphanage. Know your place and sign the damn papers."

Before the pen touched the paper, a frantic voice shattered the tension.

"Olivia! Don't do it!"

I spun around. My adoptive mother, Martha, shoved past a pair of security guards. Her faded wool coat stood out violently against the sea of designer gowns.

"Mom?" I dropped the pen. "What are you doing here?"

Martha threw herself at my feet. Her knees hit the marble floor with a loud crack.

"Get up!" I reached for her shoulders.

"Don't sign it," Martha begged, grabbing my wrists. "He doesn't know who you are! You aren't an ordinary orphan, Olivia. You have to wait!"

Bill scoffed. He signaled the guards. "Get this crazy woman out of my sight. She's ruining the gala."

"I'm not crazy!" Martha screamed as the guards hauled her backward. "Olivia, listen to me! You belong at the top! Don't let him throw you away! The orphanage lied!"

"Mom!" I lunged forward, but Bill grabbed my arm, yanking me back.

"Sign the papers, Olivia. Now."

"Let her go!" I yelled, struggling against his grip.

"She's a lunatic," Bill sneered. "Just like you. Sign the damn papers and you can both go back to the gutter."

"Go to hell," I spat. I ripped my arm from his grip and bolted toward the exit.

"Let her go," Diana told Bill, her voice carrying over the music. "She'll come crawling back when she runs out of cash."

I pushed through the heavy glass doors, escaping into the freezing courtyard. The music from the ballroom faded into a dull hum.

"Miss Olivia."

I stopped. An elderly man in a pristine black tailcoat stepped out from the shadows of a manicured hedge.

"Who are you?" I demanded, backing away.

The man bowed deeply. He held out a velvet box. Inside rested a heavy gold crest, etched with a soaring eagle and a crown.

"Miss, we've finally found you," the old man said, his voice thick with emotion. "You are the true heir missing for over twenty years."

I stared at the gold metal. My heart hammered against my ribs.

"Did Bill send you?" I asked.

"Mr. Montgomery is a fool," the man replied. "I represent your true family. We have been searching for decades."

"This is a scam." I shook my head, stepping backward. "Diana just claimed to be an heiress inside. Now you're out here telling me the same thing? You're sick."

"Diana Montgomery is a pawn," the old man said smoothly. "She holds a fabricated title. You hold the bloodline."

"I don't care about bloodlines," I snapped. "I care about the fact that my life is falling apart, and you people won't leave me alone."

"Please, Miss," the old man pleaded, taking a step forward. "Look at the crest. It bears the mark of your birth. The true Kensington eagle."

"Leave me alone!"

I turned and ran. My shoes hit the pavement hard. I didn't look back. I just needed to get away from the lies, the manipulation, the absolute insanity of this night.

I rounded the corner of the courtyard and slammed directly into a solid wall of muscle.

Strong hands gripped my shoulders, steadying me before I could fall.

"Running blindly into traffic yesterday, and now sprinting through dark gardens," a deep, familiar voice rumbled. "Do you make a habit of colliding with people?"

I looked up.

Shawn Thorne stood under the dim glow of a streetlamp. He wore a midnight-blue tuxedo, looking completely unbothered by the freezing temperature.

"Let go of me," I ordered, pushing against his chest.

He released me instantly. His dark eyes scanned my face, dropping to my empty hands, then shifting to the darkness behind me.

The old man emerged from the pathway, stopping a few feet away. He still held the velvet box open.

Shawn's gaze locked onto the gold crest. The bored, arrogant expression vanished from his face. His jaw tightened. A dangerous, calculating light sparked in his eyes.

"Mr. Thorne," the old man greeted, bowing his head slightly.

"Arthur," Shawn replied, his tone cold.

I looked between the two men. "You know each other?"

Shawn didn't answer me. He stepped closer, his imposing frame blocking the wind. He stared down at the crest, then shifted his intense gaze back to my face.

"It seems," Shawn murmured, his voice dropping an octave, "they've finally found you."

"Found me?" I repeated, my pulse racing. "What are you talking about?"

Shawn leaned in, his lips brushing mere inches from my ear.

"You really have no idea who you are, do you, Olivia?"