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Once An Overlooked Housewife, Now A Queen Of Fortune Novel Cover

Once An Overlooked Housewife, Now A Queen Of Fortune

'PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE.' "And where exactly would you go after the divorce?" Felix scorned. "Have you forgotten you had nothing when grandma took you in?" He added, giving her a dismissive once-over. There was no hint of surprise on his face regarding the divorce news, which all the more showed how much he disliked her. Wren has spent three years of her life trying to be the perfect housewife to an unloving man. But when she's pushed to the wall, she's forced to retaliate. However she has no idea what is waiting for her on the other side. Happiness at last or worse chaos?
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Chapter 3

Wren's first instinct was to slam her foot on the gas, but unfortunately, her car had just broken down. Right when she was about to step into her new life, it chose to betray her.

Wren forced herself to relax her facial muscles, then curved her lips into a confident smile.

"Tell me, Omar, what are you doing here? Don't tell me you regret rejecting my confession back then?" She raised her brows playfully. "Though it's a pity-your full head of gray hair isn't really my taste anymore."

Omar froze, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

"Wren." He drew in a deep breath, his voice low and heavy. "Don't provoke me with jokes like that. You know very well-it was nothing more than your youthful impulse. I. I've always seen you as my daughter."

Wren narrowed her eyes, her smile sharpening.

"Daughter? What an honor. But what kind of father would say in a board meeting that I'm unfit to be an heir? Daddy, your love is truly special."

With that, she moved to close the car door. She had just gotten divorced, and she didn't want anyone watching her fall apart-least of all Omar and his father.

They had found her a year ago, but she told them she refused to return to that toxic family. She was happy, as if living in paradise.

God, was he here to mock her on her father's behalf?

"That's not true," Omar said.

"Then why are you here?" Wren cut him off. It didn't matter-she would stick to her choice and never reconnect with them.

"I heard about the divorce," Omar said in a low voice.

There it was. Finally. Wren rolled her eyes.

She let out a cold laugh, slowly folding her arms across her chest like building an invisible wall.

"Of course I'm not surprised you know about it. After all these years, he's still in the habit of planting spies behind my back." She lifted her chin, her voice dripping with mockery.

Omar frowned. "Don't think that way, Wren. He's not spying on you. He still cares about his daughter."

"Right!" Wren gave a soft laugh. "So he sent you here to remind me that his prediction about my marriage failing came true. Be sure to congratulate him for me."

Omar sighed. "He sent me because he knows you're vulnerable."

"Vulnerable? Twelve years ago I cut ties with him for a reason, Omar! Remember?"

Her mother had been fighting cancer, life hanging by a thread, while her father carried on an affair with a mistress. That woman even moved into her house not long after her mother's funeral. His excuse was that the doctors said her mother wouldn't live, that depression had driven him into the affair, that he couldn't bear the pain.

In the end, her mother committed suicide. Betrayal had driven Wren to run away from home at sixteen. She believed living under the same roof with the man who had caused her mother's death was a betrayal to her.

That very day, she'd been in an accident, falling into a coma for two weeks. When she woke, she learned the one who had saved her was Felix's grandmother, Maria. Maria had taken her in, and before she married Felix, Wren had lived with them for six years. Her father had always warned her that marriage was a mistake, but she had refused to have anything to do with him.

Omar looked at her car and let out a weary sigh.

"Come with me. Let's talk somewhere better. I'll have someone take care of your car."

--

"He wants you to take the VP position at Ellington Innovation's New York branch." In the jazz-filled bar, Omar finally revealed his purpose.

Damn it, Omar's words still had an effect on her. She was sure she didn't like him, but she still trusted him. After all, aside from opposing her inheritance, he was the one who would rush in on stormy nights to help her sleep, the one who'd sneak her sandwiches when her stepmother withheld her meals-right in front of that woman.

That was why she had agreed to follow Omar to the bar, at least to spare him some embarrassment.

Hearing his words, Wren was silent for a moment, frowning.

"Why? He has another daughter." Her father had never liked her. He only doted on her stepmother's daughter, always saying her stepsister was his pride.

Omar pressed his lips together, his voice slower but still heavy.

"But you've always been his treasure too. It was your stepmother whispering in his ear-saying you were spoiled, reckless, unstable-that made him so harsh with you."

Wren was surprised. Why would her stone-hearted father suddenly change?

Omar paused, his gaze falling on her before continuing.

"Just last year, your father began to realize something was wrong with your stepmother's words. He often called me over, asking about you. He dug out your college transcripts, even the records Madam Maria left behind. That's when he realized. you'd always been excellent. Just hidden."

Wren thought she should feel happy-she had finally won her father's recognition. But that could never be enough. Unless he could bring her mother back to life. She thought of her mother's pained expression. Her father could have waited until after her mother's death to parade his mistress into that villa.

But he hadn't. He'd wanted to wound her. Her fists clenched tight.

"I'll give you time to think about it," Omar said gently, noticing the turmoil written across her face.

In the underground bar, he slid a platinum keycard across the leather console between them.

"This is a penthouse on Central Park West. No matter what you decide, it's yours." He paused. "There's no pressure. But I truly believe the rightful heiress should return to her place."

Wren stared at the card. She could find a temporary place to live. But accepting it meant betraying her mother. She had always run from her father to carry her mother's pain. Yet she knew-if she took that card, she might uncover the truth about her mother's death. A truth she had never told anyone.

And she wasn't about to. Not until she had the answer.

Omar's warm palm rested on her back. He sighed.

"Wren, listen. I know why you left. You fear that accepting your father's offer means betraying your mother. But it's not like that. I knew your mother. She wanted you to be happy. She wanted you to fight back, hard, against them. That's what she always did."

"As long as we're alive, the outcome is still up in the air." Wren remembered her mother always saying that. Which meant her mother would never have killed herself for this.

Omar saw her hesitation and added, "This time, I promise I'll be on your side."

"I'll accept it," Wren nodded. "But not out of trust for you. I just don't want to disappoint my mother."

The tension in Omar's face eased, and he exhaled in relief.

"Good. Wren, your mother would be proud of you. Your resilience exceeds anything I imagined. You can do this."

"But I have one condition. I don't want to see my father yet. You have to promise me that," she added.

"I promise," Omar assured her.

Wren quickly signed the contract. As she was leaving, Omar called after her.

"Wren, I'm sorry. I apologize for my old, narrow-minded views. You will succeed. You'll be the greatest heiress."

Wren smirked. She didn't care for his judgments anymore. She just wanted out. When they stepped out of the building, Omar opened the car door for her and waited until she settled inside.

"Ah, almost forgot. William sends his regards. He says he misses you."

"William?" Wren searched the dusty corridors of her memory. She recalled a twelve-year-old boy-chubby cheeks, earnest eyes behind thick glasses. She laughed.

"The chubby kid who used to trail after me like a lost puppy?"

Omar tilted his head slowly. "Yes. I suppose we could call him 'that chubby kid.'"

Just then, a woman in a tight dress walked toward the car, her eyes fixed on Omar.

"Hey, handsome. Interested in a drink?"

Omar's expression darkened. He was about to refuse-he had never liked casual flings-but Wren shoved him toward the woman immediately.

"Of course! My daddy could really use someone to help smooth out his wrinkles. Go on, or else it'll be past his bedtime."

"Wren." Omar warned, but Wren just laughed and darted into a cab waiting at the curb.

As soon as she sat down, her thoughts leapt back to William.

What was that boy like now? She remembered how mortified she'd been when he declared in front of all her friends that he'd marry her one day. She couldn't help laughing at the memory.

Shaking her head in amusement, she realized her childhood had indeed been happy. But now, the only thing that mattered was learning how to run a company-and uncovering the truth behind her mother's death.

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