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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 8

Kiley needed hot water. The coffee in the room was cold, and her hands were shaking so badly she couldn't hold the cup steady. She walked down the hall to the nurses' station, holding her empty mug.

As she turned the corner, she heard voices. Familiar voices.

She stopped, pressing her back against the wall. She peeked around the corner.

Roy was standing by the vending machines, his phone pressed to his ear. His face was red, and he was practically spitting into the receiver.

"I'm telling you, it's a disaster!" he barked. "The kid has cancer! Cancer! Do you know how much that costs? It'll wipe us out if Aden makes us pay!"

Kiley's blood ran cold. She clutched the mug tighter, the ceramic biting into her palms.

"We should have never adopted her," Roy continued, his voice dripping with venom. "She's a jinx. A bad investment. First the divorce, now this. We're screwed."

Kiley stepped out from behind the corner. She didn't say a word. She just stood there, staring at her adoptive father.

Roy saw her. He jumped, nearly dropping his phone. "I gotta go." He hung up, shoving the phone in his pocket.

"Kiley," he said, smoothing his tie. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough," Kiley said, her voice flat. "More than enough."

She turned and walked away. She didn't want to yell. She didn't want to cry. She just wanted them gone.

She reached the main lobby. Aden was standing there, Bertie at his side. He was putting on his coat, ready to leave.

He saw Kiley and stopped. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. He held it out to her.

"Here," he said. "My lawyer's direct line. Call him when you're ready to sign. And don't bother calling me again."

Kiley didn't take the card. She just looked at him, her eyes empty.

"You're making a mistake," Bertie chimed in, stepping forward. "Sign the papers, Kiley. Take the little bit of money he's offering. You can't afford to be proud."

"I'm not proud," Kiley said, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm just not for sale."

"Fine," Roy snapped, stepping between them. "Starve, then. See if we care. But don't come crawling to us when the bills pile up."

Aden's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen. A slow, sleazy smile spread across his face.

"Seraphina," he said, answering the call. He looked right at Kiley as he spoke. "Hey, baby. Yeah, I'm on my way. Did you miss me?"

Kiley watched him. The man she had loved for seven years. The father of her child. Flirting with his mistress in front of her.

"Don't let him get any worse, Kiley," Aden said, covering the phone mouthpiece with his hand, his voice a low sneer. "The last thing I need during a high-profile divorce is a PR crisis over a sick kid. It would be... inconvenient."

Something inside Kiley snapped. It wasn't a loud snap. It was a quiet, final break. The last thread holding her to the person she used to be.

She looked around. On the table next to her was a trash can. Sitting on top of the trash was an empty soda can.

She picked it up. The aluminum was cold and light in her hand.

She threw it.

The can flew through the air, missing Aden's head by an inch. It hit the wall behind him with a loud, metallic clang, denting the drywall.

Aden ducked, his eyes wide with shock. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Get out," Kiley said. Her voice was low, steady, and terrifyingly calm. "Get out of this hospital. Get out of my life. And if you ever come near my son again, I will kill you."

"You're crazy," Aden sneered, but he took a step back. He looked around. People were staring. A security guard was walking toward them.

"Is there a problem here?" the guard asked, his hand resting on his belt.

"This woman just assaulted me," Aden said, pointing at Kiley.

"I threw a piece of trash in the trash can," Kiley said, not looking at the guard, her eyes locked on Aden. "It missed."

The guard looked at the dented wall, then at Aden, then at Kiley. "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. This is a hospital, not a boxing ring."

Aden's face turned purple. He opened his mouth to argue, but Bertie grabbed his arm. "Just go, Aden. She's not worth it."

Roy was already heading for the door. Aden snatched his arm away from Bertie, shot Kiley one last glare, and stormed out.

Bertie looked at Kiley, her lips thin. "You'll regret this, Kiley. You'll see."

She hurried after Roy.

Kiley stood in the middle of the lobby. The guard gave her a sympathetic look and walked away.

She walked over to the wall and picked up the dented can. She squeezed it, the aluminum crumpling in her grip. She squeezed until the edges bit into her palm, until her hand ached.

She dropped it back into the trash. She didn't need it anymore. She had her anger. It was sharper than any can.

She walked back to Jules's room. He was awake, playing with a stuffed bear Camila had brought.

Kiley sat on the edge of the bed, pulling out her phone. She scrolled through her contacts. Roy Nielsen. Bertie Nielsen. Aden Frost.

One by one, she blocked them. She didn't hesitate. She didn't second-guess. She just deleted them from her life.

She looked at Jules. "It's just us now, baby."

Jules looked up at her, his blue eyes so clear and trusting. "Okay, Mommy."

She had nothing. No money. No family. No future she could see. But she was free. And she was going to fight.

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