Running Away With a Billionaire’s Heir

Five years into my marriage to Ethan Morgan, the famous business tycoon in the whole continent.

The entire business world knew he loved me more than anything.

He’d even registered a private Island in my name, a gesture of love and affection no one could ever think of.

However, a text from his secretary ruined everything.

She sent me a picture of her lying almost naked in his arms, her neck full of hickeys while he rested his hand leisurely on her chest.

They were making out on the very Island he had dedicated to me.

[He says his wife doesn't satisfy his real needs. Only with me can he really turn on]

[Only if he doesn't need an heir from her, she would be out of the picture already.]

At that moment I knew what I needed to do. I just made a single call.

“I need a new identity. And a divorce agreement for my husband.”

One month ago, I was the happiest person alive on the earth.

Ethan, my husband of five years, spared no limits showing his affections for me. He even insisted I stop designing dresses for elites because he just couldn't tolerate seeing me tired.

To prove his love, he even bought a private Island and named it after my name, making me the most envied woman of the city.

And all that he wanted from me was a baby just like me, an heir to his empire.

I have been trying for five years and I was pregnant.

Finally!

I wanted to disclose the news to Ethan as soon as possible.

But, my phone buzzed. The name of the buyer who had transferred a fortune to my account just to buy my limited edition dress a week ago was revealed.

Though Ethan did not like it, I continued my career with a different name.

However, the floor beneath me trembled as the name of the buyer of my dress popped up on my screen.

Ethan Morgan.

He bought the dress for a hundred million a week ago yet I had no idea about it. I never received the gift if he intended to buy it for me.

Just then my phone buzzed again. This time it was a review from a female customer wearing the same dress while lying on a beach. Next to her lay a man, half naked.

With one glance I could recognise this man. Ethan, my husband. And the woman, he spent millions for, was his secretary he told me not to worry about.

My knees gave out. I collapsed onto the plush Persian rug, the luxury of our home suddenly feeling like a cold, sterile tomb. The woman in the photo—Maya, his ‘hardworking’ secretary—was wearing the dress I had poured my soul into.

And the worst part, they were laying on the very Island he had bought for me.

The phone almost slipped off my hands. But, it didn't stop buzzing my head. I picked up with trembling hands.

It was Maya texting my official account, an identity no one knew about, not even Ethan.

I had always felt guilty for leading a secret life, hiding my passion for design from the husband who only wanted me to rest.

But, who knew it would lead me to see his true face.

[Thank you, Aris, for the dress! My boyfriend gifted me this dress and I just can't stop admiring it.] Maya wrote.

[After I wore it for him, he went crazy, almost tearing it up and making me naked. But, Thank God, he vacated the entire Island before taking me there. The perks of dating a Billionaire, you know!]

[He says his wife doesn't satisfy his real needs. Only with me can he really turn on]

[Only if he doesn't need an heir from her, she would be out of the picture already.]

A sob, jagged and raw, tore through my throat. It wasn't just a cry; it was the sound of a five-year-old fairy tale splintering into a million lethal shards.

Every "I love you," every forehead kiss, and every "Stay home and rest, my queen" was revealed for what it truly was, an illusion.

I looked at the phone screen again.

‘He almost tore it up.’

My nails pressed so deep on the screen that it cracked up.

The fact that he took her to our Island, a place that only belonged to us cut deep through my heart.

The tears I had been suppressing for a long while finally streamed down my cheeks for what felt like hours, a blur of tears and suffocating silence. But then, the buzzing stopped. The silence of the house settled around me, leaving behind a cold, crystalline clarity.

He had bought me an island to keep me isolated. He had ended my career to keep me dependent. He didn't want a wife, he wanted a gilded bird in a cage, waiting to produce a trophy.

He wanted to have his little slut with him on bed, he can have her!

He wanted a lineage, he can build it with any woman!

But, the child in my womb, the heir he always wanted, will never be his!

He thought I was a delicate designer who needed his protection. He forgot that to build a dress, you have to be an expert at cutting things away.

The first thing I did was wipe the corner of my eyes, promising myself to not waste one more drop of tear on the man who did not deserve it.

The second thing I did was dialing a number I hadn't dialed in years– my old mentor in Paris.

"It's Aris," I said, my voice hardening. "I’m coming back. Help me take a new identity, completely erasing the trace of the last one.”

"Are you done being the love-struck woman? Would your husband not mind your working anymore?" My mentor asked.

"Husband? Who? I'm divorcing Ethan Morgan!" I replied, "Please help me prepare the divorce agreement as well."

The silence on the other end was palpable. I could feel the shock in his silence. After all, I had cut ties with every known person in my life just to be with Ethan. And now, I was divorcing him.

“Have you thought this though? Taking you out under Ethan's nose will not be easy. He has his connections everywhere. I suggest you think again before you make the final decision, Aris.”

“I have decided.” I said.

“Fine,” he replied. “Give me fifteen days to arrange a new identity for you, Aris. But remember, after you leave Ethan and take the new identity, there is no turning back. You must not leave any trace for him to find you.”