Discarded Wife Is A Hidden Billionaire Heiress

The helicopter landed on the rooftop helipad of a skyscraper in Midtown Manhattan. Adah and Kian took a private elevator directly to the underground garage.

A fleet of luxury cars stood waiting. Kian opened the door to a deep blue Bentley Mulsanne for her.

Adah settled into the back seat as Kian took the driver's seat. The car pulled smoothly out of the garage and merged into the river of New York's nighttime traffic.

She leaned back against the soft leather, closing her eyes.

Meanwhile, Atticus met a "traumatized" Cayla at the hospital. She sat in a wheelchair, her foot in a cast, her face streaked with tears.

Atticus was consumed by guilt.

"I won't let you suffer another ounce of hurt," he said, his voice hoarse. He cupped her face in both hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Cayla, listen to me—I'll take care of everything. The divorce papers will be filed tomorrow. After that, you don't have to think about a thing. Just focus on healing, and leave the rest to me."

Cayla's tears finally broke through the dam, falling in heavy drops onto his knuckles. Yet even as she wept, she shook her head frantically. "No... I don't need your pity. Adah is your wife. I don't want to be the bad person here, Atticus. I really don't..."

Her words refused him, but her fingers clutched his sleeve with a death grip, knuckles white, as if letting go would make him vanish. That fragile, contradictory sight twisted Atticus's heart into knots. He bent down and pulled her into his arms, his chin resting on the crown of her head, and whispered his promise: "You were never the bad one. I was. From today on, I want only you."

In the hollow of his shoulder, where he couldn't see, the corner of her mouth twitched upward for barely a second—then she quickly melted back into trembling sobs, her arms tightening around him even more.

After settling Cayla in, Atticus received a text from his lawyer: "Mr. Sterling, as per the agreement you signed, you are required to finalize the divorce procedure with Ms. Beaumont tomorrow at 9 a. m. at the County Courthouse."

He let out a cold snort and replied, "Understood." He was curious to see how she would survive without him.

The next morning, in front of the New York County Courthouse. A flashy red Ferrari pulled up, and Atticus stepped out. He wore a perfectly tailored Armani suit and sunglasses, his powerful presence drawing glances from passersby.

He stood on the courthouse steps , hands in his pockets, impatiently checking the time.

At precisely nine o'clock, a deep blue Bentley Mulsanne glided silently to the curb.

Atticus recognized the top-tier luxury car but assumed it belonged to some big shot and paid it no mind.

The door opened. A man in a black suit, tall and exceptionally handsome, stepped out first. It was Kian. He then turned respectfully to open the back door.

A foot shod in a Jimmy Choo crystal-encrusted high heel emerged, followed by Adah.

She had shed the plain cotton dress for a crisp, white Chanel suit. Her long hair was swept up, revealing the elegant curve of her neck. Her makeup was subtle but flawless, her eyes cool, her aura commanding.

Atticus's pupils constricted violently. He could barely recognize the radiant woman before him as the wife who had been as meek as dust just yesterday.

Adah didn't look at him. She walked straight past, leaving a trail of a cool, clean scent in the air.

Atticus stood frozen behind her, staring at her and the handsome man by her side. Jealousy and rage ignited uncontrollably within him. He was certain Kian was the new man she'd lined up.

"You move fast," he couldn't stop himself from sneering. "Barely divorced and already eager to show off your new sponsor?"

Adah stopped and glanced back at him, her expression like she was looking at a petulant stranger. "Mr. Sterling, our relationship ended yesterday. My private life is none of your business."

After speaking, she took Kian's arm and walked into the courthouse without looking back.

The title "Mr. Sterling" stung Atticus. He stood rooted to the spot, his face ashen.

His assistant, Anthony Olsen, hurried over. "Sir, the proceedings are about to begin." He noticed his boss's fixed gaze and followed it.

Anthony caught a glimpse of Kian's profile and found it familiar. A memory sparked in his mind.

"Sir," Anthony said cautiously, "that man... he looks a lot like the sole apprentice of 'Althea,' the legendary surgeon who saved you a few years ago."

Atticus flinched at the name but was too consumed by jealousy to process it. All he could think was that Adah would stoop to anything for money.

The divorce was finalized in under ten minutes before a judge. Adah and Atticus were no longer legally bound.

As soon as it was over, Adah, escorted by Kian, turned and left with grace.

Atticus remained in place, clenching his fists as he watched her elegant back.

He let out a self-assured, cold laugh at her retreating figure. She'll come crying back to me in less than three days.

Then, Atticus went to the hospital to see Cayla.