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Rising From Shadows: The Billionaire's Cold Revenge Novel Cover

Rising From Shadows: The Billionaire's Cold Revenge

I stood in the shadows of the hospital, watching my wife kiss another man while my grandmother lay dying upstairs. Just minutes ago, Erlene had snapped at me over the phone, calling me a "needy child" and claiming she was stuck at a business meeting across town. Now, she was stepping out of a red Porsche in a designer dress, wrapped in the arms of Andrew Hanson, the man who was supposed to be her "sick friend." "I'm not going up," Erlene said coldly when I confronted her in the rain. "I don't like watching people die. It's depressing. Tell her I came by." She looked at my soaked, cheap hoodie and my scuffed sneakers with pure disgust before turning her back on me to return to her lover’s side. I had to go back to the ICU alone and lie to my grandmother with her final breath, telling her Erlene was waiting just outside the door. As the heart monitor flatlined at 2:14 AM, my phone buzzed with a call from my mother-in-law, who screamed that I was a "worthless loser" and demanded I sign divorce papers immediately so her daughter could finally be with a "real man." For three years, I lived as a ghost, a poor driver who endured their insults and hid my true identity just to have a simple life with the woman I loved. I sacrificed my future for a family that treated me like a stray dog, only for them to spit on me while I held my grandmother’s cold hand. Why did I stay in the shadows for so long? Why did I let these people believe they could crush me under their expensive heels? I walked out of that hospital and threw my thick, black glasses onto the wet asphalt, watching a delivery truck grind them into dust. I didn't need the disguise anymore. I drove my rusted Honda to the towering iron gates of the George Estate, where the security team dropped their batons and snapped into a terrified salute. My father was waiting on the marble steps, but I wasn't there for a peaceful reunion. I was there to reclaim my inheritance and make sure Erlene realized exactly what she had thrown away.
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Chapter 5

The suite at the Ritz-Carlton smelled of lavender and expensive red wine. Andrew stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, wearing a plush white robe. He swirled the liquid in his glass, looking down at the city.

Erlene sat on the edge of the king-sized bed. She was staring at her phone. Her mother had sent twelve texts in the last ten minutes.

He agreed to sign!

Thank God!

We are free of that dead weight!

Erlene should have felt relieved. But she felt a strange, gnawing emptiness in her stomach.

Andrew walked over. He sat next to her, the mattress dipping under his weight. "What's wrong, babe? You look sad."

Erlene forced a smile. "Ephram... he agreed to sign the papers."

Andrew's eyes lit up for a fraction of a second, a flash of greed he quickly masked. "That's great news. We can finally be together properly."

He leaned in and kissed her neck. His stubble grazed her skin.

Erlene flinched. A memory of Ephram standing in the rain, soaked and shivering, flashed in her mind.

She turned her head away. Andrew's lips landed on her hair.

He pulled back, his expression tightening. "What is it?"

"His grandmother died tonight, Andrew," Erlene whispered. "I feel... wrong. Doing this tonight."

Andrew sighed. He put on a face of practiced sympathy. "You're too good, Erlene. That's why I love you. But he wasted three years of your life."

He took her hand. "Remember? If I hadn't gotten sick three years ago, we would have been married already."

The guilt washed over Erlene. Andrew had fought a terrible illness alone so he wouldn't be a burden to her. He was a hero.

"You're right," she said, touching his cheek. "I won't let you go again."

Andrew smiled and pushed her gently back onto the pillows. He moved to climb on top of her.

Erlene put her hands on his chest. "Andrew, wait. Technically... I'm still married. Until the papers are filed." It was an easy excuse. The truth was, after three years of a marriage that felt more like a roommate agreement, the act of physical betrayal felt jarring. Ephram had always kept his distance, blaming a trauma he never explained, and a part of her had grown numb.

Andrew froze. A vein in his temple twitched.

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. "I understand. You have principles. I respect that."

"Thank you," Erlene said, relief flooding her voice. "Once it's done, I'm all yours."

Andrew stood up and walked to the minibar to pour more wine. His back was to her. His face twisted into a snarl.

His phone buzzed on the counter. He glanced at it.

Interest rate went up, Mr. Hanson. If you don't pay this week, we visit the rich girlfriend.

Andrew deleted the message. He composed his face and turned back around, smiling.

"To our future," he said, raising his glass.

Erlene clinked her glass against his. She drank the wine, oblivious to the fact that she was toasting her own destruction.

Down on the street, a beat-up Honda Civic drove past the hotel entrance, heading toward the slums.

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