Jilted Heiress: Her Billion-Dollar Payback

Jaeda Reynolds POV:

The insistent buzzing of my phone dragged me from a restless, dreamless sleep. I hadn't bothered to change out of my silk robe. The sun was just beginning to streak the sky with shades of gray and pale pink over the San Francisco Bay.

The caller ID displayed "Ewing Coleman." Drew's father. The patriarch of Coleman Industries. The man who had practically begged me to marry his son, his eyes full of desperate hope for the salvation I represented.

I silenced the call and tossed the phone onto the silk sheets beside me.

It rang again. Immediately.

I silenced it again.

A text message followed. Then another. And another. A frantic cascade of digital pleading. My phone vibrated against the bed like a trapped insect.

I finally picked it up, my thumb hovering over the screen.

Ewing: Jaeda, please pick up the phone. We need to talk.

Ewing: This is a disaster. You have to stop this.

Ewing: What Drew did was unforgivable, I know, but this? This is destroying us!

Then, a new message, from a number I hadn't blocked yet. Drew.

Drew: Are you happy now? You' re destroying my family. All because your ego got bruised.

Drew: I fell in love, Jaeda. Is that such a crime? You can't control who someone loves. You tried to control me, and I broke free. Why can't you just let me go?

Drew: This is petty and vindictive. It proves I was right about you. You' re a cruel, heartless bitch.

I let out a short, sharp laugh. It was a hollow sound in the vast, empty penthouse. Cruel? He thought this was cruel? He hadn't seen cruel yet.

He had stood before our friends, our families, the entire world, and branded me as an unlovable shrew who had to buy a husband. He had taken my vulnerability, the genuine affection I had felt for him, and twisted it into a weapon to humiliate me. He and his little intern were now the internet's darlings, a modern-day fairytale of love conquering corporate greed.

And I was the dragon to be slain.

He, the man who used his supposed mysophobia to manipulate everyone around him, who recoiled when I tried to hold his hand but had no problem sharing saliva with another woman. He, who had whispered promises of a future, a family, while already building a life with someone else.

He had made me a laughingstock. My name, the name I had built into an empire of power and respect, was now a punchline in a sordid tabloid drama.

Why can't you just let me go?

The question was so absurd, so utterly disconnected from the reality of his actions, that it was almost funny. He didn' t want to be "let go." He wanted to escape the consequences of a deal he had broken. He had publicly repudiated our contract, and now he was shocked that the financial penalties were being enforced.

Another text from him buzzed through.

Drew: I'm begging you, Jaeda. For the sake of what we almost had. Call it off. We can come to a settlement. Don't destroy everything.

A settlement. Of course. That was the endgame. He thought he could publicly disgrace me, turn public opinion against me, and then force my hand into a generous exit package to make him go away. He didn' t just want to leave me; he wanted to be paid for it.

The cold rage inside me coalesced into a single, sharp point of focus.

I picked up my phone and sent a text, not to Drew, but to my assistant, Zara.

Me: Accelerate Phase Two. I want maximum pressure. Now.

Zara's reply was instantaneous.

Zara: Understood.

I walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looked down at the waking city. My other monitor was already live, displaying the pre-market data. Coleman Industries (C.I.) was in a freefall. It was a waterfall of red. Their market cap was evaporating in real-time. Millions of dollars, turning into smoke with every passing second.

It was a beautiful sight.

I knew Ewing Coleman. He was an old-school businessman from a generation that valued pride above all else. He would be panicking. He' d see his family' s legacy, a company that had been in their name for three generations, crumbling to dust because of his son' s idiotic, greedy little psychodrama. He wouldn't sit by and let it happen. He would act.

Just as I predicted, my phone lit up with a new text from Drew. The tone was markedly different. The arrogance was gone, replaced by a thin veneer of panic.

Drew: Jaeda. Okay. I get it. You're angry. I deserve it. Let's talk. Please.

Drew: I'll do anything. Just... call off the dogs. The company can't survive this.

Drew: I'll give you a public apology. I'll say I was wrong. Whatever you want.

His pleas were like music. I read and reread them, savoring the shift from blustering self-righteousness to groveling fear. He was starting to understand. He was starting to realize that he hadn't just poked a bear. He had willingly stepped into the cage with a starving lion, armed with nothing but his own ego.

And the lion was about to feed.