
Mr. Sterling, Your Ex-wife is a Famous CEO
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Five years ago, Arabella Sterling vanished without a trace, disgraced, heartbroken, and branded her billionaire benefactor's dirty secret.
What the world never knew was that she'd also been his wife.
Or that the man she loved-and the son she gave everything for-chose another woman over her.
Now, she's back as The Reformer, a world-renowned business strategist celebrated for resurrecting dying empires.
Her newest client? The Sterling Group.
Her ex-husband's empire.
Adrian Sterling has spent years trying to atone for the lies that destroyed them both.
But when Arabella walks into his boardroom, colder, sharper, untouchable...he realizes redemption may come at a cost he can't pay.
Because this time, she's not here to save him.
She's here to ruin him.
Mr. Sterling, Your Ex-wife is a Famous CEO Chapter 1
"Umm...Uugh.. Aaah..." The voice was breathy, urgent, and way too close.
Arabella slowly lifted her heavy eyelids and for a second, she couldn't tell if she was still dreaming.
The room was dark, the air heavy with alcohol, heat and perfume.
Then another moan broke through the haze.
A laugh. Soft. Intimate. Wrong.
Serena.
Arabella froze. The alcohol she had last night still fogged her head, and for a heartbeat she wondered if she was imagining it.
Her heart stuttered as she turned her head ever so slightly.
Adrian.
Serena.
Serena's figure went down between Adrian's thighs, the soft sheets rumpled beneath them.
Adrian groaned, hands buried in her hair, his face twisted in confused pleasure, like he was caught between sleep and waking, guiding her movements while she took him deeper.
"Adrian..." Serena's voice was soft, deliberate.
Arabella's world tilted.
The bed wasn't a mistake, but their marriage was.
If not for a drunken one-night stand, six years ago.
If not for his father's will...He would never have married her.
Now his father was dead. Their son already five years old.
Nothing was stopping him from his freedom.
Well...Except for a few signatures from her.
She gagged, covering her mouth as she slipped out from under the covers, bare feet hitting the cold marble floor.
The night air cut through her thin nightdress as she stumbled into the hallway.
She pressed her back against the wall, sliding down until she sat on the floor. Her chest heaved, but no sound came out.
Her fingers dug into the hem of her dress trying to stop them from trembling, her long blonde hair scattered over her face.
She couldn't breathe, every sound clawed at her chest.
The urge to scream rose in her throat, but she swallowed it back, tasting salt.
Five years.
Five years since she married him...
...Since she'd vowed to endure anything just to watch her child grow.
And this was what 'enduring' had become.
To think she thought she could make this marriage work. After all, she'd been in love with him long before their one night stand.
Over the years, she did everything she could.
She cooked his meals, ironed his suits, tidied his office, even waited by the door at night just to hand him a warm cup of tea, hoping he'd finally see her.
But instead of appreciating her, he'd snap at her, call her desperate, and pathetic gold digger and even accuse her of trying to gain his affection through pity. Her efforts only seemed to irritate him.
"Serena isn't like you, Arabella. I won't reduce her to a mistress by cheating on you with her while we're still married," Adrian would always say whenever he came back home dead into the nights with lipstick stains all over his shirt.
Arabella wanted to believe him. She believed him. And now this was what she got in return.
He didn't just cheat with her. He did it on their matrimonial bed...while she was sleeping on it.
"Mommy?" Axel's voice was low, unsure as he stood in front of his room.
His brown hair scattered, his eyes tired.
Arabella sniffled, quickly wiping the tears in her eyes as she walked up to him, not wanting him to get closer and hear the disgusting sound coming from her room.
"Axel, dear. Why are you not asleep?"
"I had a nightmare. I was coming to your room." He replied, still rubbing his sleepy eyes. "Mommy, were you crying?"
Arabella wiped her face once again, smiling broadly despite her heart ripping apart. "Of course not, Axel."
As she picked Axel up and took him back to bed, she whispered, "How can I cry when I have you?"
She gently tucked him back to sleep, slowly patting her back as she sang him a lullaby.
Axel shifted on the bed, looking up at his Mom, "Mom, why do I have two moms?"
Arabella swallowed, her eyes darting around the room.
When Adrian insisted Axel call Serena mom in public, she knew this question was going to come one day.
Just not in the middle of the night when he should have been sleeping.
She laid gently beside him at the edge of the bed, hands carefully wrapped around him.
"I am your only Mom, sweetheart. Aunt Serena is just someone your dad cares deeply about." She tried to explain though it didn't make sense even to her.
Axel shifted on the bed, holding his mom's gaze, "But all my friends and teachers think she's my mom."
Of course they did.
Serena was the one who stood beside Adrian at school events, smiling for photographs like she belonged there.
The one who signed permission slips.
The one who went on the school trip last week while Arabella stayed home, folding laundry in a house that barely remembered her name.
To the world, Serena Sterling already existed. Arabella was just the shadow that hadn't been erased yet.
"Sweetheart, I will talk to your Dad..."
"Can you sign the papers?" Axel suddenly interrupted, his voice small.
Arabella raised a brow, her heart skipping. "What papers, baby?"
Axel fidgeted with his blanket, not meeting her eyes. "Aunt Serena said... she said if you sign them and go away, then she can be my real mom. She said Daddy and grandma would be happy then." He paused, then added quietly, almost like a question, "Don't you want them to be happy?"
Arabella's chest tightened, her brain refusing to process the words. She bit her lip, fighting the urge to scream.
The taste of bile rose in her throat, air snatching from her lungs.
Axel loved her. He was the reason she could cope in this hellhole for so long, so those words...she refused to believe they were his.
"D–did something happen during the school trip?" she asked when her lips finally parted.
But Axel quickly turned his back against his mom, shoving her hand off. "Nothing happened. I'm sleepy."
A pause, then softer, repeating what he'd clearly been told: "Just... just leave and everything will be okay. That's what Aunt Serena said." His tiny voice cut deeper than any knife could ever.
The kid she went through humiliation and pain to birth, suffered to raise...was choosing another woman over her.
The same woman his Dad chose over her.
Arabella's voice trembled as his name echoed from mouth, "A-Axel..."
"I want to sleep, Mommy. Leave me now."
As Arabella left the room, a tremor rippled through her body, starting from her throat and ending in her knees.
She didn't know where else to go. Her husband was sleeping with another lady in their bedroom and her only son didn't want her.
Arabella covered her mouth with her palm, as she climbed down the stairs, not wanting to disturb anyone with her sobs.
The kitchen spun. Or maybe it was her, but she gripped the edge of the kitchen island hard, afraid that moving would make it real.
She slumped under the island, finally letting out the cry tearing through her throat.
Once she was the Young Miss of the mansion...adopted daughter, beloved by their father.
She had everything. Love, family and domestic staff at her beck and call. Now she was nothing. Far less than the family dog.
Even when she was sick, she worked, got hit, starved, humiliated over and over again with several scars to tell her story of resilience.
She thought that was pain. But watching the only reason she went through that pain for turn against her...that's hell on earth.
Arabella cried, sobbed, forced herself to stay strong, and eventually...dozed off.
Until...
"Hey," an exaggeratedly sweet voice called, kicking her legs.
When her eyes fluttered open, Serena's sweet smiley face was the first thing she saw.
Her long brown hair was packed in a messy bun, the sleeve of her sexy nightwear falling from her shoulder.
"Oh, Bella...you look exhausted. Did we disturb you last night?"
Arabella almost choked on her breath, her body shaking with anger.
Oh how she wished she could just scratch her sly, and annoyingly beautiful face.
Serena knelt before her, her lips curving into a smirk, "Adrian wanted us to take the guest room, but I kinda like your bed better...especially when you're on it."
A lone tear trickled down Arabella's eyes, but she quickly wiped them out, sniffling hard.
She'd cried enough through the night. Her head was splitting in pain, her body was sore, her eyes blood shot.
But she was done.
Adrian had humiliated her enough. She didn't want his love anymore. She just wanted her son.
"Now do what you are good at and prepare breakfast." Serena said as she stood up and turned away.
Arabella struggled to get feet, gripping the counter as a wave of dizziness washed over her.
Serena was almost out of the doorway, already dismissing her like she was nothing.
No.
Not this time.
"Serena Smith," Arabella called, her voice low but shaking with fury, "What did you do to my child?"
Serena halted, the smirk on her face intensifying as she slowly turned and walked back to her.
"Oh, Axel told you?"
Arabella felt her heart sank as she confirmed her suspicions.
"I only told him the truth...that the world can not know you are his mom."
Arabella's jaw tightened, "Serena!"
"What? Am I wrong?"
Arabella couldn't reply. Because Serena wasn't wrong.
Despite Adrian having to marry her to claim his inheritance, he made his stance clear.
"You're nothing but my dirty little secret, Arabella. Know your place." Adrian had insisted.
And she did.
Serena glanced over her shoulder gently, catching a glimpse of Adrian by the doorway. She had seen them coming downstairs earlier.
Her sly smirk deepened, her voice lowered so only Arabella could hear her, "The will might have made Axel a legitimate heir, but we both know he's always going to be a bastard..."
White-hot rage exploded behind Arabella's eyes.
She could take the humiliation. The cheating. The abuse. She'd swallowed it all for five years.
But her son?
Her son was innocent. Perfect. The only pure thing that had ever come from this nightmare of a marriage.
And this woman...this mistress who paraded around her house, slept in her bed, stole her husband- dared to call her child that word?
Over her dead body.
The slap rang out before Arabella even realized her hand had moved.
Serena slowly placed her hand on her cheek, her lips widening into a smile, leaving Arabella confused.
Until...
"Arabella!" Adrian's voice thundered from the doorway as he stormed into the kitchen, shoving her off, "Have you lost it."
Continue Reading
Mr. Sterling, Your Ex-wife is a Famous CEO of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6Chapter 7 Ch. 7Chapter 8 Ch. 8Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels

7.1
The last thing I remembered was the blinding flash of my starship crashing. But instead of a rescue crew, I woke up tied to a wooden post, surrounded by hostile beastmen.
My universal translator kicked in just in time to hear their priestess, Chelsea, declare that I was a cursed demon who ruined their hunt. To save the clan from winter starvation, I was to be burned alive.
The flames were already blistering my legs, and jagged stones hurled by the crowd gashed my forehead. I barely negotiated a three-day reprieve to find them food, venturing into the deadly primeval forest.
I found a massive supply of wild potatoes and even gained the protection of Bronson, a terrifyingly powerful saber-toothed tiger beastman.
But Chelsea wouldn't stop.
She labeled my food as poisonous, tried to sentence me to starve in a penitent's cave, and when my agricultural knowledge proved her wrong, she invoked an ancient law. She incited the tribe's savage warriors to fight over me, turning me into breeding property.
I was a scientist offering them endless food, yet their primitive ignorance and one woman's vicious jealousy kept pushing me toward a brutal end. I was terrified, completely powerless against their monstrous physical strength.
As five ruthless challengers drew their bone axes to claim me, I begged Bronson to leave me and run.
Instead, he pulled me against his scarred chest and kissed me fiercely in front of the entire clan.
"She is my mate," he roared, unleashing a soul-crushing aura. "Anyone who wants her, come at me together."

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."

8.7
Ada was eight months pregnant, sitting peacefully in her husband's Manhattan estate, looking at a baby nursery catalog.
Suddenly, her husband's mistress, Jacklyn, walked in, threw an ultrasound photo on the table, and locked the door.
Before Ada could process the betrayal, Jacklyn dragged her to the top of the marble staircase and threw herself backward just as Desmond walked through the front doors.
"She pushed me, Desmond! She tried to kill our baby!"
Desmond looked at Ada with absolute hatred.
He ignored Ada's breaking water and her agonizing screams for help, leaving her to miscarry on the freezing floor while he rushed Jacklyn to the hospital.
He sent Ada to a brutal federal prison for three years, where she was tortured and left with a body covered in horrific scars, mourning the baby she was told died at birth.
When Ada was finally released, Desmond destroyed her cousin's company to force her back to his estate as a lowly maid.
But when Ada saw Jacklyn's three-year-old son, her world stopped.
Right in the center of the little boy's palm was a faint crescent moon birthmark.
It was the exact same mark Ada had kissed on her own lifeless baby's tiny hand before the doctors took his body away.
How did her dead child become Jacklyn's little prince?
Looking at the woman who stole her life and the husband who threw her in hell, Ada clenched her scarred hands and swore she would tear their world apart to get her son back.

9.0
I am the undisputed ice queen of the ER, a doctor whose life is built on absolute control. A month ago, I impulsively married a stranger to create a legal shield against my ex-mentor's betrayal.
Our prenup had one strict rule: a fake marriage with zero interference in each other's lives. But tonight, my "husband on paper" was wheeled into my ER, unconscious, reeking of cheap whiskey, and suffering from a bleeding ulcer.
To authorize his emergency surgery, I had to sign the consent form as his wife, detonating a gossip bomb among my colleagues. Worse, his overbearing family found out he was hospitalized. To stop his terrifying mother from flying in and exposing our sham marriage, I had to lean over his hospital bed and take a fake, loving couple's selfie.
I didn't understand why this disciplined math professor was suddenly drinking himself to death, nor why my chest tightened when he looked at me with exhausted eyes and begged for homemade soup. My perfectly ordered, untouchable life was crumbling into a chaotic mess, and I was losing my grip on the narrative.
"We should probably spend some time together beforehand. We could be roommates."
To prepare for an unavoidable family dinner and a wedding, my stranger husband just asked me to move into his apartment. The ultimate uncontrolled variable has just crossed the line, and our fake marriage is about to become dangerously real.

8.7
For seven years, I was Alpha Zane’s Chosen Mate, suppressing my warrior instincts to be the docile, supportive partner he demanded.
On our seventh anniversary, while I waited by a candlelit table, I accidentally overheard his mind-link with another woman.
"Seven years is a habit, my dear, not love. She's docile, she'll understand."
He told Seraphina, his new political ally, laughing as he dismissed my entire existence.
I didn't scream or cry. I scraped the anniversary cake into the trash, drafted a formal rejection letter, and walked out of the packhouse.
But Zane didn't even notice my departure. He was so consumed by his new lover that my rejection letter was treated as garbage and tossed into the incinerator.
He paraded Seraphina around the pack, even handing my hard-earned strategic command over to her—a woman who knew absolutely nothing about war.
When my loyal subordinates protested, he violently suppressed them, declaring my absence a "childish tantrum" and framing me as the bitter obstacle to his destined romance.
He honestly thought I was just hiding in my room, waiting to beg for his charity and accept a humiliating demotion.
He had no idea that I had already crossed the border into enemy territory.
Tonight, I am attending his grand celebration.
Not as the heartbroken mate he discarded, but as the newly appointed Gamma of his deadliest rival, the Sterling Pack.

8.5
Alexandrea woke up with a splitting headache in a strange hotel bed, terrified to find a brutally handsome, half-naked stranger beside her.
Before she could even scream, the door burst open. Her adoptive mother, Ivette, stormed in with a swarm of reporters and flashing cameras.
"How could you disgrace our family name like this?"
Ivette sobbed, putting on a theatrical performance of a heartbroken mother. It was a setup to completely ruin Alexandrea's reputation in front of New York's elite.
For ten years, Alexandrea had lived in a house of horrors. Her back and arms were covered in silvery scars and puckered cigarette burns left by Ivette's vicious abuse.
Yet to the public, Ivette had carefully crafted Alexandrea's image as a wild, ungrateful, and manipulative liar.
Trapped under the duvet, Alexandrea was drowning in shame, her voice lost in the storm of accusations.
She didn't understand why her adoptive family hated her so much, treating her worse than a stray dog while using her brother's future to keep her chained.
But what she understood even less was the stranger beside her.
Instead of panicking, the man slowly sat up, his presence alone silencing the frantic room. He was Ace Griffith, the billionaire heir who owned half of Manhattan.
He wrapped his suit jacket around her trembling shoulders, looked Ivette dead in the eye, and dropped a bomb.
"I will be marrying her."
Then, he carried Alexandrea away from her ten-year prison, ordering his men to dig up the Terry family's darkest secrets and her true identity.







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