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No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return Novel Cover

No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

I went to the City Clerk's office for a routine copy of my marriage license to finalize a trust fund audit. I expected a simple piece of paper, but the clerk's pitying look told me my entire life was a lie. "The license was never finalized, Ms. Oliver. In the eyes of the state, you are single." The three-hundred-guest wedding at the Plaza and the Vogue features meant nothing. My husband, Gray Cooley, had intentionally filed the documents with a "procedural defect" so he could discard me without a legal divorce. Moments later, an iCloud invite titled "Our Little Secret" popped up on my screen. It was a photo of my best friend, Brylee, holding a positive pregnancy test at our Hamptons estate. Gray's text to her was the final blow: "Happy anniversary, babe. This baby is the best gift. Once the trust unlocks today, we're done with the charade." I soon discovered they were even stealing my career, reassigning my architectural masterpiece to Brylee while preparing my eviction notice. Gray's mother called me a "barren mule" in a leaked recording, mocking the infertility I suffered after saving Gray's life in a construction accident. I wasn't a wife; I was a three-year placeholder used to secure his inheritance. How could the man I bled for treat me like a disposable prop? How could my best friend carry his child while pretending to comfort me through my darkest moments? The betrayal burned until it turned into a cold, hard stone of fury. I didn't cry. Instead, I walked into the penthouse of the Barretts, the Cooleys' most powerful rivals. I signed a marriage contract with Kane Barrett, the man the tabloids called the "Beast of Wall Street." "I want a wedding," I told his father, my voice steady and lethal. "Bigger than the one I had with Gray." If they wanted me gone, they would have to watch me become the woman who owns their world.
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Chapter 3

Haleigh refused the driver's offer to take her to the Cooley apartment. She needed the anonymity of a yellow cab.

It was nearly midnight when the taxi pulled up to the curb. The pre-war building loomed above her, its limestone facade illuminated by soft uplighting. It used to look like home. Now, it looked like a mausoleum.

The doorman, Eddie, jumped up when he saw her. "Mrs. Cooley! We didn't expect you back until Tuesday."

"Surprise," Haleigh said, forcing a smile. She pressed a hundred-dollar bill into his hand. "Don't call up. I want to surprise Gray."

Eddie winked. "Understood, ma'am."

The elevator ride was smooth and silent. Haleigh watched the floor numbers climb, her heart beating a slow, heavy rhythm. Thump. Thump. Thump.

She stepped out into their private foyer. She could hear music coming from inside. Soft jazz. Miles Davis. Gray's favorite "seduction" playlist.

She unlocked the door. Click.

She pushed the door open. The apartment smelled of beeswax and expensive lilies.

Right there, in the center of the entryway rug, sat a pair of red-bottomed Christian Louboutin heels.

Haleigh stared at them. She had bought those for Brylee's birthday last month. Brylee had cried, hugging her, saying she'd never had such expensive shoes.

Haleigh kicked off her own flats. She moved silently across the Persian runner in her stocking feet.

She crept up the curved staircase. The music was coming from the master bedroom. The door was ajar, spilling a slice of golden light into the hallway.

Haleigh peered through the crack.

Gray was standing by the bed, his back to the door. He was unbuttoning his dress shirt. Brylee was sitting on the edge of the mattress-Haleigh's mattress-wearing Haleigh's silk robe. The champagne-colored silk parted to reveal her legs.

Gray handed Brylee a glass of milk. "Drink this. It's good for the baby. Calcium."

Brylee took it, smiling up at him. "You're going to be such a good dad, Gray. Much better than you were a husband."

Haleigh felt a wave of dizziness. It was one thing to know it. It was another to see it.

She stepped back from the door. She reached into her purse and pulled out her heavy keychain. She held it out over the hardwood floor of the hallway.

She dropped it.

CLANG-JINGLE-THUD.

The sound was explosive in the quiet house.

From the bedroom, chaos erupted.

"Shit!" Gray's voice was a harsh whisper. "Did you hear that?"

"Is it her? Is she back?" Brylee sounded frantic. Glass clinked against a nightstand.

"Hide! Just hide!"

Haleigh waited five seconds. Then she bent down, picked up her keys, and started humming. Loudly. A cheerful, mindless tune.

"Honey? I'm home!" she called out, her voice pitching up into a sweet, singsong melody.

She walked toward the bedroom, her footsteps deliberate and heavy now.

She pushed the door open.

Gray was standing by the bed, panting slightly. His shirt was half-unbuttoned, his hair messy. The room reeked of Brylee's perfume-Chanel No. 5.

But Brylee was gone.

Haleigh scanned the room. The bed was rumpled. The balcony doors were closed. The bathroom door was open and dark.

Her eyes landed on the walk-in closet. The handle was vibrating slightly, as if someone had just let go of it.

"Haleigh!" Gray exclaimed. His smile was terrified, a rictus of panic. Sweat beaded on his upper lip. "You... you're back early!"

Haleigh walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. She could feel his heart hammering against her chest like a trapped bird.

"I missed you," she cooed. She buried her face in his neck, inhaling deeply. "Mmm. You smell... different."

Gray froze. "I... I was just trying out a new cologne samples."

Haleigh pulled back, sniffing the air theatrically. "And is that... Chanel No. 5? It's so strong."

Gray's face drained of color. "I... I was looking for a gift for you. I must have sprayed some on myself by accident at the store."

"A gift?" Haleigh's eyes lit up. She turned toward the closet. "Is it in there? Let me see!"

She took a step toward the closet door.

Gray lunged, blocking her path.

"No!" he shouted. Then, softer, "No, babe. It's... it's a mess in there. I haven't wrapped it yet. It's a surprise. You can't go in."

Haleigh stopped. She looked at the closed door. She imagined Brylee in there, huddled among the winter coats, holding her breath.

A cruel smile touched Haleigh's lips, gone before Gray could see it.

"Okay," she said, shrugging. "I won't ruin the surprise. I'm exhausted anyway. I think I'll just... take a shower and go to bed."

She sat down on the edge of the bed, right where Brylee had been sitting moments ago.

"Come sit with me, Gray," she patted the mattress.

Gray looked at the closet, then at Haleigh. He looked like he was about to vomit.

"Sure, honey," he said weakly.

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