His Unwanted Wife: The Hidden Tech Genius
For seven years, I hid my MIT Ph.D. and my identity as a top haute couture designer to be the perfect, obedient wife to billionaire Cornelius Lambert.
But on our anniversary, while I waited at home with a cold dinner, I found him at a Michelin restaurant with his childhood sweetheart, Halle.
My seven-year-old son sat between them, laughing loudly.
"Mom is too boring. I wish Aunt Halle was my real mom."
Cornelius didn't defend me. He just smiled and affectionately ruffled the boy's hair.
When I finally packed my bags and left, I accidentally triggered an old AI robot prototype Cornelius had given me years ago.
A hidden recording played his voice from the very night he proposed.
"Why marry her? Because she's easy to control. Halle doesn't want to settle down yet, so Cassidy is just a perfect, temporary shield."
Later, when I caught them being intimate in a dark parking garage and snapped a photo, Cornelius watched with cold, dead eyes as his massive bodyguard shoved me against a concrete pillar.
My arm was torn open, blood dripping onto the floor, as they forced me to delete the evidence of his affair.
For seven years, I filed down every sharp edge of my brilliance for a man who saw me as nothing but a pathetic, disposable placeholder.
My heart turned to absolute ice. He thought I was just a weak, powerless housewife.
But he forgot who he was dealing with.
As his luxury car drove away, I pulled up the hidden command terminal on my phone and recovered the encrypted cloud backup of the photos.
I looked at my lawyer with a bleeding arm and a cold smile.
"Let's go. Now, we have a weapon."
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Chapter 7
Cassidy walked into the dimly lit, exclusive private lounge. The air smelled of expensive bourbon and leather. She spotted Kori sitting in a secluded, velvet-lined booth in the far corner.
Cassidy slid into the booth and immediately ordered a dry martini from the waiter. Kori pushed a thick, intimidating stack of legal documents across the table.
Kori's brow was furrowed in deep frustration. She tapped the thick paper with her manicured fingernail. "This prenup is an iron fortress, Cass."
"Under New York state law, based on these clauses, unless you can prove major, undeniable fault on his end, you are walking away with absolutely nothing. You will be stripped bare," Kori explained, her voice tight with anger.
Kori slammed her palm flat against the table. "Cornelius is a calculating bastard. He trapped you from day one."
Cassidy picked up her martini glass. She took a slow, deliberate sip. Her face remained perfectly calm, as if they were discussing the weather.
She set the glass down. "I don't want a single cent of his money. I just want my freedom, and I want full custody of Benny."
Kori let out a heavy, exasperated sigh. "Cass, how are you going to live? How are you going to fight a billionaire in court? Your pathetic salary at that bank won't even cover my retainer, let alone a custody battle."
A faint, mysterious smile touched the corners of Cassidy's lips. "You don't need to worry about the money."
She pulled out her phone, opened a highly secure banking app, authenticated with her biometrics, and swiftly initiated a transfer. "I've just wired one million dollars to your firm's trust account as an initial retainer," Cassidy said calmly. Kori's phone buzzed immediately with the deposit notification. Kori glanced at the screen.
Her eyes widened in absolute shock. She stared at the unbelievable sum, her mouth falling open.
She nearly knocked over her own drink.
Kori leaned in, dropping her voice to a frantic whisper. "Did you rob a bank?"
Cassidy shook her head slowly. "I earned every penny of it."
She didn't elaborate on the Indigo identity. She simply locked her phone and put it away. "Money is not the issue. What we need right now is undeniable proof of his fault."
Having established their battle plan, the two women paid the bill and walked out of the lounge, heading down a narrow stairwell to the underground VIP valet parking garage.
The garage was cavernous and poorly lit. The air was thick with the suffocating smell of car exhaust and burnt rubber.
Kori walked a few paces ahead toward the valet stand to get her keys. Cassidy followed, reaching into her trench coat pocket for her phone.
Her fingers slipped. Her keys tumbled from her pocket and hit the rough concrete floor with a sharp, echoing clatter.
Cassidy bent down to pick them up. As she crouched, her line of sight passed through a narrow gap between two massive SUVs parked nearby.
In the deepest, darkest corner of the garage-a blind spot completely hidden from the security cameras-sat a sleek, black Maybach with a specialized license plate.
It was Cornelius's personal car.
Cassidy's heart skipped a violent beat.
The rear window of the Maybach was rolled halfway down. The faint, warm glow of a reading light illuminated the backseat.
Cassidy narrowed her eyes, peering through the gap. Cornelius was leaning back against the plush leather seat, his eyes closed in relaxation.
And Halle Moss was half-kneeling on the seat beside him. Her body was leaning aggressively forward, completely invading his personal space.
Halle's fingers were gently, intimately tracing the line of Cornelius's jaw, as if wiping something away.
Cornelius didn't push her away. He didn't flinch. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his posture radiating a sickeningly familiar intimacy.
The blood rushed to Cassidy's head, pounding in her ears. This wasn't just a betrayal. This was the exact weapon she needed, handed to her on a silver platter.
She immediately dropped lower, pressing her body against a thick, concrete load-bearing pillar for cover.
She pulled out her phone, swiped open the camera app, and switched it to the highest resolution setting. She double-checked that her phone was on silent.
She aimed the lens directly at the half-open window, locking onto the disgusting, intimate scene between the cheating husband and the childhood sweetheart.
Her thumb hovered steadily over the digital shutter button, ready to strike.
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9.3
Chandler was the secret wife of Avery Osborn, a powerful media heir who kept their marriage hidden to avoid the scandal of her illegitimate birth.
After catching him openly flirting with a rival at a gala, Avery mocked her low status and told her she was nothing without his money.
Instead of crying, Chandler immediately signed a zero-payout divorce agreement, left her wedding ring on his glass table, and walked out.
To numb the pain of her shattered life, she went to a notorious underground club.
Drugged by a bartender, she lost her mind and ended up having a wild night with a handsome stranger she mistook for a high-end male escort.
Panicking the next morning, Chandler transferred her entire life savings of $50,000 to the man to buy his silence, then fled to her corporate job.
But at the afternoon executive meeting, her blood ran cold.
The man she had paid off was standing at the head of the boardroom table. He wasn't a gigolo. He was Brennan George, the ruthless new COO of her company.
Cornering her in the women's restroom, Brennan held up a printed copy of her $50,000 wire transfer.
"Wiring a massive sum of cash to your direct superior after a night together is classified as commercial bribery and solicitation," he whispered dangerously.
Chandler was terrified, realizing she had handed him the exact evidence needed to destroy her career and sue her into bankruptcy.
"Marry me," Brennan demanded coldly. "It's the only way to make this HR problem disappear."
7.2
Blaire woke up in a Manhattan penthouse, her body covered in bruises and her innocence stolen.
Before she could process the terror, her adoptive sister Danita burst in, acting heartbroken and accusing Blaire of shamelessly seducing the powerful Kamryn Lane. Kamryn threw a one-million-dollar check at Blaire's bleeding face, calling her a calculating gold digger.
That night, Blaire overheard a conversation in the family study that shattered her entire reality.
"Once she gives birth to the Lane family's seed, we'll stage an accident, drain her blood, and transplant her healthy heart into your chest."
Her adoptive mother and Danita were celebrating the success of their trap. She wasn't an adopted daughter; she was a living organ bank and a disposable surrogate. Even her adoptive brother, Calhoun, knew everything, trapping her in the dark hallways with a sick, possessive obsession to ensure she never escaped.
The horrific truth suffocated her. The family that had taken her in had raised her like livestock for slaughter. How could they smile at her every day while planning to carve out her heart?
Terrified but burning with a desperate will to survive, Blaire swallowed a Plan B pill to ruin their surrogate plot and fled the estate. To get the money and power she needed to crush her adoptive family, she pulled out Kamryn Lane's business card. This time, she would make a deal with the devil.
8.5
After four years of marriage, my wealthy husband Brad handed me a $50,000 severance check outside the Manhattan Family Court.
He linked arms with his mistress, Jenna, who flaunted the diamond ring that used to be mine.
"Just take it, Hayley. Take the money and get out of our lives," he sneered, looking at me with absolute disgust.
I tore the check into pieces, but my nightmare was just beginning.
To access my grandfather's trust fund, I had exactly seventy-two hours to get legally married, so I desperately proposed a one-year contract marriage to a poor insurance salesman I met in a dive bar.
When Brad found out, he and his arrogant family cornered me at their estate.
Brad mocked my new husband for being a penniless, money-grubbing parasite, while my former mother-in-law slapped me hard across the face, knocking me to the ground.
"You are trash, just like your mother," she spat, watching my knee bleed onto the sharp gravel.
Jenna gleefully kicked my phone away, shattering the screen and cutting off my only lifeline.
Lying there in the dirt, I stared at the broken glass in absolute despair.
I didn't understand why four years of quiet devotion had earned me nothing but cruel betrayal and endless humiliation from the people I once called family.
Just as I thought I had completely lost, a black Lincoln Navigator slammed to a halt at the gates.
My "penniless" new husband stepped out, radiating a terrifying, righteous fury that made the entire Patton family freeze in horror.
9.8
Adeline's stepmother had secretly drugged her for years, turning a child genius into a drooling, mentally disabled laughingstock just so her stepsister could steal her life.
But when her greedy father sold her off to Griffin Herring—a violent, untouchable billionaire psychopath—to save his company, things took a deadly turn.
Before the wedding, Griffin attacked her in a dark alley, nearly snapping her neck before stealing her grandfather's silver necklace.
That necklace held a micro-drive with her family's deepest secrets, and without it, she had nothing.
Back at the estate, her situation only worsened. Her stepsister Damaris paraded around in the Herring family's diamond engagement gifts, trying to force-feed Adeline wet dog food on an Instagram live stream.
When Adeline's calculated "clumsiness" ruined the video, her furious father locked her in a damp, rusted basement.
"Give her to the psycho," her stepmother hissed through the door. "Let him lock her away forever."
Listening from the shadows, Adeline's fists clenched until her palms bled.
Her supposed mental fog wasn't a tragedy—it was a calculated assassination of her mind. They had destroyed her childhood and were now throwing her to a monster just to keep the billions.
The dull, empty look in Adeline's eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a razor-sharp, chilling clarity.
She pulled a thin surgical needle from her messy bun and picked the heavy iron padlock in ten seconds. It was time to break into the billionaire's penthouse, take back her necklace, and tear them all apart.
9.3
"Adrian, why would you lie to me? Why would you let her push my mum like that?"
Yvonne's voice trembled, holding back tears.
Adrian smirked. "Wake up, Yvonne. You really thought I wanted you when Tricia was right here?"
That was how Adrian-her first crush, the boy she thought cared-chose to humiliate her in front of everyone as she was the cleaner's adopted daughter.
But fate had other plans.
Because the Diamond Belfort brothers-the heirs everyone adored were coming to their school in search of their missing heiress- baby sister. But the queen bee steals the chance that should have been hers. Then again, secrets don't stay buried forever. With her true identity waiting to explode, Yvonne must decide to rise from the ashes, claim her place, and bring down everyone who tried to destroy her.
Because the real heiress doesn't beg.
She takes rather.
Now, Yvonne is done playing small. It's her time to rise, reclaim her crown, and make everyone regret ever doubting her.
7.9
I woke up in a burning warehouse, twelve years after my supposed death. My body had been reset to its physical prime, the deep burn scar on my wrist completely gone.
Through the smoke, my eldest son, Kennard, rushed blindly into the flames. He was screaming the name of the very woman who had orchestrated this trap—Brittnie.
When I tackled him out of the way of a falling steel beam, he didn't recognize my youthful face. Instead, he pinned me to the concrete and nearly crushed my windpipe.
"How much did she pay you to carve up your face to look like a dead woman?"
He hissed the words at me, treating me like a sick corporate spy. For a decade, a bizarre narrative "script" had brainwashed my son, forcing him into pathetic devotion to Brittnie. She had drained his wealth, turned my daughter against him, and hollowed out our family empire.
Whenever Kennard tried to resist her, the mind control punished him with agonizing migraines, driving him to smash his own hands against the wall just to cope with the pain.
Hearing him quietly sobbing outside my locked door, my heart shattered. How could this invisible force torture my brilliant son and turn my family into puppets for a D-list actress?
I dragged him to the hospital for a DNA test.
When the results confirmed my maternity at 99.999%, the cold billionaire collapsed to the floor, weeping in my arms like a lost child.
I wiped his tears and smiled ruthlessly. It was time to take back my empire and burn Brittnie's life to the ground.