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The Broken Wife's Revenge, Taking Everything From My Billionaire ex Novel Cover

The Broken Wife's Revenge, Taking Everything From My Billionaire ex

Monica Blackwell gave eight years to her marriage and her husband's company, blind to Andrew's betrayal. But when she catches him laughing about her inability to conceive with the adopted sister he's secretly sleeping with, her world shatters. Days before their lavish church wedding, she publicly humiliates him by walking out. Yet the truth cuts deeper: the money behind his empire was never his. Now, Monica is determined to strip him of everything, reclaiming what he stole—and exposing the lies that built his perfect life.
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Chapter 2

Monica's POV

Andrew nodded, turning back to stir the sauce. "Yeah. Unbelievable, right?. I'm telling you, so you won't be surprised when you see her with a baby bump."

"Wow." I forced my voice to stay steady. "That's... that's wonderful news. Who's the father?"

"Some guy she was dating in France." He shrugged, tasting the sauce from the wooden spoon. "Apparently he disappeared when she told him about the baby. Real piece of shit, that one."

Lying bastard.

"He left her?" I moved closer, gripping the edge of the counter. "Just like that?"

"Yep. Mum was devastated when Lina called to tell us. You know how traditional she is." He added more wine to the pan. "But we will all be here for her. She needs family right now".

My fingernails dug into my palms. I watched him lie so smoothly, so easily, like he'd practiced the story a hundred times.

"That's terrible," I whispered.

"I know, right? Men these days." He shook his head, actually managing to look disgusted. "Treating women like they're disposable. It's pathetic."

The other pan on the shelf caught my eye. I imagined it connecting with his skull.

"Thank God I found someone like you." The words came out sweet. "You're different, Andrew. You'd never treat me like that, would you?"

He turned around, that familiar smile spreading across his face. "Of course not, my sunrise."

My sunrise. The nickname he'd given me in college because I was always up before dawn, studying in the library, before he would stumble in after parties. He used to say I was the first beautiful thing he saw every morning.

"You know I love you." He crossed the kitchen, pulled me close. "I would never hurt you. Never." He kissed my forehead, with tenderness,like he meant it.

My stomach turned. I wanted to shove him away, wanted to scream the truth in his face, wanted to claw that lying smile off him. Instead, I smiled back.

He glanced at his phone. "Lina just landed. I should head to the airport." He grabbed his keys from the counter. "I'll be back in an hour.

I listened to his car start,then I grabbed my phone and dialed.

"Sterling & Associates, how may I…"

"Put Richard on the line. Now."

A pause. "One moment, Mrs. Blackwell."

"Monica?" Richard Sterling, our Attorney.

“Are those papers ready?” I asked.

“Yes. “They were finalized yesterday.”

“Good. I’ll be there tomorrow morning to collect them.”

"Also,I need divorce papers drafted. Tonight."

Silence.

"Richard?"

"I'm... I'm sorry, did you say divorce papers? Monica, your wedding is in few days.

"I know what I said."

"But-"

“Just do what I asked, Richard.”

“And no one hears about this. Are we clear?"

Another pause. Longer this time.

"Crystal clear, Mrs. Blackwell."

Hours later, I heard the front door open. It was them.

"Monica!" Selina appeared in the doorway, arms outstretched.

"Oh my God, look at you! Still gorgeous as ever. Wedding stress has got nothing on. Andy's taking such good care of you."

She pulled me into a hug.

"Selina." I hugged her back, pretentiously matching her enthusiasm. "You look amazing. Pregnancy really suits you."

"Thank you!" She pulled back, hands resting on her belly.

I smiled. "I'm so sorry about what happened, with the father. Andrew told me everything."

Her face fell. She managed to look genuinely upset. "Yeah. It's been rough. "Some men just can't handle responsibility."

"Well, you have us now." I touched her arm, faking concern.

Dinner was torture. Andrew served the sauce with rice like he was presenting a Michelin-star dish. Selina moaned after the first bite.

"Oh my God, Andy. You still remember how to make this after all these years."

"How could I forget, little sister?" He grinned at her. "You used to request it every birthday."

"Best big brother ever." She reached across the table, squeezed his hand.

I cut my chicken into smaller and smaller pieces. Watched them laugh together. Little sister. Yeah, More like little slut.

My fork scraped against the plate.

That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Andrew had insisted on getting Selina settled in the guest room. He was at it for twenty minutes. When he finally came to bed, I pretended to be asleep.

Early in the morning, a crash woke me up from sleep. Glass shattering, Something heavy hitting the floor. I jolted awake, heart pounding. Andrew was already sitting up.

"What was that?"

I threw off the covers and rushed into the hallway. Selina stood at the far end, hand over her mouth. At her feet lay our wedding photo. The frame had split down the middle. Glass scattered across the floor. The picture was of me and Andrew outside the registry office, grinning like idiots, torn clean in half.

"Ooops." Selina looked up at me, eyes wide. "Monica, I'm so sorry. I was just trying to find the kitchen. I wanted some water and I bumped into the table and-"

I noticed the smile. It was there and gone in a flash. She'd done it on purpose.

"Are you hurt?" Andrew appeared, rushing past me toward Selina. "Did you cut yourself? Let me see your hands."

"I'm fine, Andy, Really." She held out her hands for inspection. "Just a little clumsy. Pregnancy brain, you know?"

"Don't move. There's glass everywhere." He knelt down and started picking up the larger pieces.

I stared at our ruined photo. That was the only picture we had from that day. The photographer had charged us fifty dollars. Then, we had thought it was expensive.

"It's just a picture." Andrew glanced up at me. "We can get another frame. Monica, can you grab the broom?"

"Actually..." Selina purred. "Andy, I have a favor to ask." He looked up at her. "Anything. What do you need?"

"Well, I've been thinking. Monica's room is so much closer to the kitchen than the guest room." She touched her belly. "And with the baby, I get hungry at weird hours. Cravings, you know? It would just be easier if I could... I mean, only until I leave after the wedding."

My stomach dropped.

"You want my room?"

"I know it's a lot to ask." She looked at Andrew, not me, with those puppy dog eyes of hers.

"But getting up and down the stairs at night, walking all the way to the kitchen... The doctor said I need to avoid unnecessary strain."

"That's ridiculous." I stepped forward. "The guest room is perfectly…"

"She's right, Monica."

I turned to stare at Andrew.

"She's pregnant," he continued, standing up with handfuls of broken glass. "We can't expect her to trek across the house every time she needs water or a snack. Your room is practical. It makes sense."

"Makes sense?" My voice climbed.

"Monica." His tone shifted. The voice he used when he didn't want to argue. "Get your things, now. Selina needs proper accommodation and that's the end of it!.”

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