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Jilted Ex-Wife? The Secret Billionaire Heiress! Novel Cover

Jilted Ex-Wife? The Secret Billionaire Heiress!

I endured labor alone while my hockey-captain husband ignored my calls, choosing my stepsister over me. The nurses mocked me, strangers called me a discarded "Puck Bunny," and a month earlier he'd served divorce papers so my stepsister could take my place. I was the adopted orphan everyone used and abandoned. But as I prepared to sign, the hospital director moved me to a VIP suite with a DNA test. I wasn't unwanted—I was the Sinclairs' long-lost daughter. My billionaire parents and three brothers flew in to protect me, and I finally called my arrogant husband to make him leave with nothing.
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Chapter 1

ANYA POV:

When I was lying in the operating room with postpartum hemorrhage and in urgent need of family consent form during emergency situations, the twelve phone calls I made to my husband with my last strength were not worth one tenth of the hockey stick in his hand.

The operating room is in chaos. The monitor screamed and the nurses ran around.

After a day and a night of childbirth, my body was exhausted. Every pulse takes away a warm and sticky blood and slips away from me quietly. I knew I was going to die. I can feel it.

Two years of marriage, and I should have known. I was just a prop he married to satisfy his family.

But, for the sake of my unborn child, I continue to make one last effort.

This was the thirteenth time I had called him.

Waiting in agony,the call connected.

But it wasn't his voice. It was his assistant's, crisp and professional. "Mr. Knight is in a critical strategy meeting before tonight's game, Mrs. Knight."

My voice was so weak I could barely hear it. "Please, let me say something to him, just once...... Maybe after today,he won't have to answer my calls anymore. ”

A moment of silence. Then, I heard Keenan's voice, laced with irritation. The background noise was unmistakable-the sharp tap of hockey sticks on a locker room floor.

"Anya, what trick are you playing now? Didn't I tell you every pre-game meeting is crucial?"

My eyes are blurred with tears. "Keenan, I know you always wanted me to sign that divorce agreement. Now I agree to your request. As long as you come to the hospital—"

He cut me off, his tone brutal. "Giving birth is a woman's job. You have doctors and nurses for that. Don't bother me with this stuff. You can't afford to be responsible for messing with the team's focus."

Just as I was about to speak again and beg for help, another voice. Sweet, familiar, and dripping with poison. "Keenan, the competition is about to start.don't let irrelevant people upset you. Come try the energy drink I made for you."

My adopted sister, Kinley Hayes.

Keenan's voice instantly softened. "Okay, babe."

The line went dead.

I let the phone slip from my numb fingers. Tears mixed with the sweat on my face.

I gave up the struggle, and numbly closed my eyes.

But nurse Miller suddenly rushed in. "Dr. Reynolds! The mother's family has just signed off. We're ready for the operation!"

When I heard these words, my eyes, which I had just closed, slowly opened again.

My adoptive parents?

No, they would rather have me die than let this happen. I can't help but wonder whether maybe the family of one of their patients signed the wrong form.

But I no longer have the time to care about these things. The darkness has blinded my eyes.

When I opened my eyes once again, I found myself in a regular ward. Two small, transparent baby beds were placed beside my bed.

Through the clear plastic, I saw two tiny, wrinkled beings. One slept peacefully, the other waved a minuscule fist in the air. So small. So fragile.

My children… they are all alive. I am also alive.

Tears flowed from my eyes, I stretched out my trembling hand, pressing my fingers against the smooth plastic surface of the baby crib, as if I could feel their warmth through it.

At that moment, I suddenly remembered the person who signed the informed consent form for the emergency treatment.

Just as I was about to call the nurse to ask about this matter, the TV on the wall flashed briefly. Someone must have changed the channel. Live sports news began to play in the room.

"Keenan Knight leads his team to a stunning victory tonight! The star player delivered an unforgettable performance, securing their place in the finals!"

My eyes snap open.

On the screen, Keenan stands in the middle of the rink, arms raised in triumph. The crowd roars behind him. His face is all smiles—the same face that had called me a trick just hours ago.

And then the camera pans.

Kinley is there, at his side, clinging to his arm. Her head leans against his shoulder. She looks up at him, her cheeks flushed.

The news anchor's voice continues, "And it looks like the victory isn't the only good news for Knight tonight! Rumors are swirling that he and his long-time girlfriend, influencer Kinley Hayes, are getting closer to making things official. Wedding bells might be ringing soon for this golden couple!"

Golden couple. Long-time girlfriend. Wedding bells.

My chest hurts terribly. But I swallowed the pain back down. I looked at my child again… I can’t collapse now.

In this crowded ward, there are two other beds. Both of these beds are surrounded by family members. The husband holds the wife’s hand. The mothers are busy taking care of the newborns. The grandparents laugh as they watch the babies. The room is filled with conversations, laughter, and expressions of love.

My corner is completely silent. I close my eyes, pretending to be asleep, trying to ignore all this chaos.

"Look, that's the woman who married Keenan Knight. I heard she's just an adopted daughter with no background."

"Her husband didn't even show up for the birth. Tsk, tsk. Being a rich man's wife isn't easy."

"I heard Keenan's real love is her influencer sister. This marriage is probably about to end."

"She's so pathetic. A Puck Bunny who thought she could climb the ladder, only to get kicked off."

I clenched the blanket, my nails digging into my palm. That's what they thought of me. I didn't marry him for his fame or his money.

The malicious speculation was a physical pain, worse than the tearing of childbirth. Humiliation and grief made it hard to breathe.

I turned my head, my two babies snored softly beside me. They were my only comfort in this world.

I gently took my daughter's tiny hand.

Anya, I told myself, that's enough. This one-woman show is over. For my children, I have to leave him.

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