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His Unwanted Wife, Now Unreachable Queen Novel Cover

His Unwanted Wife, Now Unreachable Queen

Bailey, an invisible shadow to the powerful Douglas family, stood in the freezing rain, watching City Hall. For five long years, she’d been used to being forgotten. But today, her entire world shattered as her fiancé, Jameson, walked out with another woman, Haleigh, holding their fresh marriage certificates. Jameson scooped Haleigh into his arms, treating her like fragile glass, convinced she’d saved him from a burning car five years ago. He never knew it was Bailey who pulled him from the flames, nor that Haleigh's "sickness" had left Bailey with an ugly scar from donating bone marrow, making her a mere family blood bank. Watching them kiss, pure nausea rose from years of blame. Bailey later found a joyous celebration for Haleigh at the manor. Her wet arrival drew only cold annoyance; Jameson gave pitying instructions before all four men rushed to Haleigh’s side when she faked a cough. Haleigh, with a sweet smile, presented Bailey a "gift"—a velvet box. Forced to open it, a venomous Brown Recluse spider dropped onto Bailey's hand, sinking its fangs deep. As white-hot agony exploded and her vision blurred, Haleigh theatrically screamed, deliberately scraping her forehead. The men, blind with panic for Haleigh’s minor scratch, roared at Bailey, shoved her to the floor, and rushed Haleigh to the car. Left to die alone, struggling for breath as her body shut down, Bailey knew this was the end of playing their disgusting game. She had already activated her hidden trust fund, planning to buy a remote island and disappear forever.
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Chapter 2

Bailey Douglas POV:

I pushed open the heavy oak doors of Abernathy's law firm in Manhattan. My wet heels left a trail of dark, muddy water on the pristine beige carpet.

The receptionist at the front desk looked up. She saw my soaked trench coat, my ruined shoes, and my pale face. She immediately stood up, wrinkling her nose in disgust, and moved to block my path.

"Excuse me, you can't just—"

The door to the inner office opened. Abernathy stepped out. The moment he saw me, he waved the receptionist away. A flash of deep respect crossed his aged face.

I followed him into his private conference room. The air conditioning was running on high. The cold air hit my wet clothes, and a violent shiver wrecked my body. My immune system was garbage. Donating bone marrow and countless pints of blood to Haleigh over the years had left me permanently weak.

Abernathy pulled a dry cashmere blanket from a cabinet and handed it to me. He poured a cup of steaming black coffee and set it on the mahogany table.

I didn't touch the coffee. I pulled out a chair and sat down. "Show me the asset list."

Abernathy sighed. He unlocked a heavy floor safe and pulled out a thick stack of documents. He pushed them across the table. "Ms. Douglas, dumping these stocks today is financial suicide. You are losing millions."

I picked up the heavy steel pen from his desk. I didn't even look at the final dollar amount. I flipped to the last page and signed my name on the dotted line.

I pressed down so hard the metal nib tore through the thick paper, leaving a dark, jagged scar of ink. It was done.

Abernathy silently put the papers away. He opened his laptop and turned the screen toward me. It showed an encrypted registry of private islands in the Caribbean.

My eyes scanned past the luxury resorts and the developed properties. I pointed to a tiny, jagged green dot in the middle of nowhere. It had no docks. No buildings.

"That one," I said.

Abernathy stared at me in shock. "Ms. Douglas, that island has no infrastructure. No running water, no electricity grid. It is completely isolated from the world."

A cold smile touched my lips. "That is exactly what I want. A place where no one can ever find me."

Abernathy nodded slowly. "Gathering the liquid funds and processing the deed transfer will take about two weeks."

I stood up. I folded the cashmere blanket and placed it neatly on the back of the chair. "Until then, the Douglas family knows nothing. Absolute secrecy."

By the time I left the law firm and took a cab back to the Douglas Manor in Long Island, the sky was pitch black.

I stood in front of the massive brass gates. I looked up at the second floor. The floor-to-ceiling windows were blazing with light. I could hear the loud, joyful laughter spilling out into the cold night.

That laughter. That sound of a happy family that I was never allowed to be part of. It had haunted my entire childhood.

I took a deep breath. I placed my freezing hands on the brass handles and pushed the heavy doors open.

The moment the doors parted, a wave of heat, the smell of white roses, and the loud pop of a champagne bottle hit my face.

The grand foyer was transformed. White flowers covered every surface. The long dining table was buried under mountains of expensive gift boxes.

Jameson stood in the center of the room. He held a crystal champagne flute. His eyes were soft and full of absolute devotion as he looked at Haleigh, who was surrounded by her three brothers.

Derrick, the eldest, was carefully fastening a massive diamond necklace around Haleigh's neck.

Blake, the second brother, held a digital camera, filming Haleigh's fake tears of joy.

Kane, the youngest brother, held a plate with a slice of cake, carefully feeding it to Haleigh like she was a helpless child.

The cold wind from the open door swept into the room. It hit the crystal wind chimes hanging in the hall. They crashed together with a sharp, piercing ring.

Every single person in the room froze.

Five pairs of eyes looked past the sea of white roses and landed on me. I stood there, dripping muddy water onto their perfect floor.

The tender look on Jameson's face vanished. His brows crashed together. A brief flash of guilt crossed his eyes, but it was instantly swallowed by cold annoyance.

Haleigh's smile froze for a fraction of a second. Then, she shrank back against Jameson's chest, her eyes widening like a terrified deer.

Kane slammed the cake plate down onto the table. The porcelain shattered with a loud crack.

He marched toward me, his face twisted in rage. He stopped a foot away, looking down at my soaked, shivering body with pure disgust.

"Do you look like this because you're back for a funeral?"

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