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Divorced And Penniless: The Billionaire's Secret Heir Novel Cover

Divorced And Penniless: The Billionaire's Secret Heir

On their seventh wedding anniversary, Kiley's billionaire husband, Aden, slid a thick stack of papers across the restaurant table. It was a petition for divorce. He was leaving her for his college sweetheart. Thanks to a ruthless prenup, Kiley was being thrown out with absolutely nothing. That very night, their young son Jules was rushed to the ER, bleeding profusely. The doctor's diagnosis was a death sentence: acute leukemia. When Kiley frantically called Aden for help, he dismissed the emergency as a simple nosebleed. "I'm not paying for this. Deal with it," Aden sneered, the sound of his mistress giggling in the background. To force Kiley to sign the divorce papers, Aden froze all her credit cards and canceled their son's health insurance. He refused to pay a single cent for the chemotherapy. Even Kiley's adoptive parents sided with the wealthy Aden, calling her a burden and telling her to stop fighting him. Driven to the brink of despair, with a dying child and no money, Kiley didn't understand how a father could be so monstrous to his own flesh and blood. Until a news article on a friend's phone caught her eye. It featured a fallen 9/11 firefighter hero from the ultra-wealthy Whitfield family. The man in the photo looked exactly like Jules, down to the very bone structure. Kiley's mind raced back to the fertility clinic and the anonymous sperm donor. Could this dead billionaire hero be her son's biological father? Looking at her sleeping, fragile boy, Kiley wiped her tears and crushed the divorce papers in her hand. She was going to find the Whitfield family, save her son, and make Aden lose everything he held dear.
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Chapter 3

The waiting room outside the surgical suite was freezing. Kiley sat with her hands clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were white and her fingernails left crescent moons in her skin. Jules had been taken in for the bone marrow biopsy twenty minutes ago. Every second felt like an hour.

She unclenched her tightly clasped hands and wiped her already sweaty palms on her pants. She looked like a ghost.

A few miles away, in a penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park, Aden Frost woke up. The sheets were expensive Egyptian cotton. The room smelled of expensive perfume and sex.

He reached for his phone on the nightstand. He wanted to check if Kiley had caved. He expected a string of texts, begging him to come, apologizing for the wine. He opened his messages.

Nothing.

He sent a quick, dismissive text: "How's Jules? Don't overreact to a simple nosebleed." He waited a minute. No reply. His irritation grew. He typed out another message, the words sharp and commanding: "Since you have time to play games, sign the papers, Kiley. Don't drag this out."

He hit send. The message turned from blue to green. Not delivered. He frowned, trying again. Green again. She had blocked him.

He scoffed, tossing the phone onto the mattress. "Unbelievable."

Beside him, Seraphina Vance stretched, the silk sheet slipping down her torso. She rolled over, tracing a finger down his chest. "What's wrong, baby?"

"My wife is playing games," Aden said, his jaw tight. "She thinks ignoring me will make me change my mind."

Seraphina pouted, her lower lip jutting out. "When is Jules coming to live with us? I can't wait to be a stepmom."

Aden's frown deepened. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Jules is a Frost. He stays with me. Kiley isn't taking my heir."

"Of course not," Seraphina said smoothly, masking the flash of annoyance in her eyes. She sat up, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'll love him like my own. You'll get full custody. I'll make sure of it."

Aden patted her hand. "I'll have my lawyer add a clause. She thinks she can fight me? She'll learn."

Back at the hospital, the door to the surgical suite opened. The doctor walked out, holding a manila folder. He didn't smile.

"Mrs. Frost," he said. "The preliminary results from the aspirate are back."

Kiley stood up, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Tell me."

"We found a high concentration of blast cells in the marrow," the doctor said, his voice heavy. "It's preliminary, but it's consistent with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia."

Kiley's knees buckled. The floor seemed to tilt. A nurse grabbed her arm, steadying her, but Kiley felt like she was falling into a bottomless pit.

"Leukemia," she repeated, the word tasting like poison.

"We need to run more tests to confirm the subtype, but we should prepare for an aggressive treatment protocol," the doctor continued. "Chemotherapy, possibly radiation. It's going to be a long fight."

"How much?" Kiley asked, her voice hollow. "How much is it going to cost?"

The doctor gave her a sympathetic look. "I'll have financial counseling speak with you. But you need to focus on Jules right now."

Kiley nodded, stumbling back to Jules's room. He was still groggy from the anesthesia, his face pale against the pillow. She sat beside him, pulling out her phone. She scrolled to Aden's name again. Aden Frost. She had changed the contact name earlier. Now it just said Scum.

Her thumb hovered over the unblock button. She needed money. She needed help. But then she heard it again-that laugh. She saw the blood on the towel. She put the phone down.

She wouldn't beg. Not him. Not ever.

She walked down to the financial office. The counselor was a middle-aged woman with kind eyes. She handed Kiley a printout of the estimated costs for the first round of chemo.

The number on the page made Kiley's stomach drop. It was more money than she had seen in her entire life. More than the house, more than the car. It was astronomical.

"I don't have this," Kiley whispered.

"We can set up a payment plan," the counselor said. "But we need a deposit to begin treatment."

Kiley nodded, walking out in a daze. She went back to Jules's room. She opened the small jewelry box she had grabbed from the house. The diamond earrings. The sapphire bracelet. The gold watch. It was all she had left of her marriage. It was blood money, but it would pay for Jules's blood.

She was pulling out the earrings when the door burst open.

"Kiley!"

Camila Sharpe rushed in, her red hair flying. She dropped her purse on the chair and wrapped Kiley in a tight hug. Kiley stiffened for a second, then collapsed into her friend's arms, sobbing.

"I thought you were in Boston," Kiley cried.

"I drove back the second I got your text," Camila said, holding her tight. "What happened? Why are you selling your jewelry?"

Kiley pulled back, wiping her face. "He left me, Cam. He wants a divorce. And Jules... they think it's leukemia."

Camila's face went pale. "That bastard. I'll kill him."

"Don't," Kiley said, her voice hardening. "He's with her. He doesn't care. I'm not asking him for anything."

"You aren't asking, but you aren't doing this alone," Camila said firmly. "I'll cover the deposit. I know people. We'll get the best doctor in the city."

"Camila, I can't let you-"

"You can, and you will," Camila interrupted. "We are going to beat this. And we are going to take Aden for everything he's worth."

Kiley looked at her son, sleeping in the bed. Then she looked at her friend. The panic was still there, but it was fading, replaced by a cold, hard determination.

"I'm going to divorce him," Kiley said. "And I'm going to make sure he never gets near Jules again."

Across town, Aden was getting dressed. He tried calling the house phone. No answer. He tried calling Brenda.

"Hello?" Brenda's voice was shaky.

"Where is she?" Aden demanded.

"She's at the hospital, Mr. Frost," Brenda said. "She told me not to answer your calls."

Aden's grip on the phone tightened. "She thinks she can cut me out? Fine. Let her see how she likes living without my money."

He hung up and called the bank. "Freeze the supplementary cards. All of them. Effective immediately."

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