She Was My Wife, Now a Trillionaire

"What is wrong with her now?" Lauren asked, snapping out of it, her voice unsteady.

Archie shrugged. "How would I know? She's capricious, and her mood swings are getting more unpredictable! We've spoiled her too much."

"Outrageous!" Jorge's face darkened with anger.

"She got burned earlier. Maybe it's still hurting. I'll bring her back another day so she can apologize," Brenton said with a frown before quickly going after Arabella.

Fabric lifted, exposing Arabella's bare abdomen.

Angry red marks spread across her skin where the burns had taken hold, and two deep scars cut through the area, stark and impossible to ignore. Against the scalded flesh, those scars stood out even more, harsh and unsettling.

Four years had passed, yet the scars still looked as severe as ever, a reminder of just how serious the injury had been.

Back then, it wasn't just about nearly losing her uterus. If she hadn't fought her way out of that dark alley, she wouldn't have survived at all.

Without hesitation, Arabella turned slightly, making sure her parents and brothers could see her stomach clearly.

Silence filled the room.

"Why did everyone stop talking? The injury I went through wasn't minor. I've been preparing myself for a child, and the doctor told me not to go hungry. Is asking for a bowl of soup before dinner really that unreasonable?"

As Arabella spoke, her eyes moved from one face to another, watching closely.

Jorge's expression stayed rigid, while Lauren covered her mouth. Their eyes shifted, and unease showed through despite their attempts to hide it. Brody glanced briefly before quickly averting his gaze, his breathing turning uneven.

Arabella knew this family would never suddenly feel sorry for her. If they were quiet now, it could only mean something else. In that instant, she understood. The truth behind the severe injuries Brinley had put her through wasn't something only Archie and Brenton knew. The whole family had known all along. Every single one of them had kept quiet and helped Brinley cover the crimes. They weren't innocent bystanders. They were all accomplices.

"What are you doing? Put that down!" Brenton grabbed the hem of Arabella's shirt and pulled it back into place, refusing to let anyone else see the scars on her body for another second. Those marks only reminded him of the nasty rumors he had tried to ignore for years.

All Brenton cared about was covering Arabella up. He didn't stop to think that pulling the fabric down would press against her burns.

Pain surged through Arabella, draining the color from her face. She struggled against him and pushed him away. "Let go of me!"

"Come with me. You need to rinse it with cold water," Brenton suggested, tightening his grip around her wrist as he tried to pull her along.

Right then, the large screen lit up as the video call finally connected.

"Good morning, Mommy, Daddy, and my handsome brothers. Oh, Bella and Brenny are there too? Did you miss me?" Brinley's delicate face appeared on the screen, her voice soft and bright.

Dressed in a soft white pajama set with rabbit ears, she sat by a sunlit window inside a penthouse, a carefully prepared breakfast laid out in front of her.

Her smile came easily, bright and gentle, while her eyes shone with life. The slight lift of her brows gave her a playful edge. She carried an air that felt both pure and self-assured, with a hint of pride that showed without restraint. That was Brinley.

Facing the camera, Brinley lifted her hand and waved, seemingly oblivious to the tense atmosphere on the other side.

The tense silence in the dining room broke apart in an instant. No one looked at Arabella anymore. Every gaze shifted toward the screen, and smiles appeared across their faces as they greeted Brinley.

"Good morning, Brinley."

"Did you sleep well last night, Brinley?"

"Why is there so little food? Don't start dieting while you're over there by yourself."

"I checked the forecast. The weather is about to change. Remember to dress warmer after breakfast."

Even Brenton, who had just been about to pull Arabella away, let go of her wrist unconsciously. His attention settled on the screen, focused in a way Arabella had never seen before.

Arabella stayed where she was, feeling out of place. She had already told herself not to care, that none of this mattered anymore. Yet when the people she once relied on all turned away from her, the pain still pressed down on her chest.

A sharp ache surged through her, as if the wound on her abdomen had been torn open all over again, the pain spreading deep inside. Her fingers curled tightly into fists, holding back the urge to smash the screen in front of her.

Cold eyes fixed on Brinley's bright, harmless-looking face, Arabella didn't look away.

"Why are you standing so far back, Bella? Why aren't you saying anything? Brenny, did you make my sister upset? If you don't treat her properly, I won't let it slide when I come back!" Brinley turned toward Arabella with a playful tone, even raising her fist in a teasing gesture toward Brenton.

Brenton placed his arm around Arabella's shoulders. "How could that be? We're doing just fine. We've even started preparing for a baby, haven't we, honey?"

He lowered his gaze toward Arabella, his expression soft and full of warmth.

A small smile appeared on Arabella's lips as she lifted her brows. She linked her arm with his and then looked toward Brinley with a gentle, cheerful expression. "That's right. By the time you return, our child will already be talking."

Brenton's body tensed for a moment.

On the screen, Brinley's smile faltered slightly, and the light in her eyes dimmed as she glanced at Brenton.

Lowering her gaze, Arabella let out a faint, knowing smile. She understood Brinley too well. Brinley thought she was the center of everyone's attention, adored by all.

In truth, Brinley craved everyone's attention too much, and her urge for control ran just as deep. Even though she didn't care for Brenton, she would never allow someone who once admired her to move on and build a life with another woman. That was even more unacceptable when that woman happened to be Arabella.

Arabella smirked to herself. Now, neither Brenton nor Brinley remained as composed as before.

"Brenny, Bella, let me offer my congratulations early," Brinley said, forcing a smile that looked natural on the surface.

Brenton kept his eyes on Brinley, his throat tightening slightly before he responded in a distant voice, "Thank you."

Something in the air shifted, though no one spoke of it.

A wave of sickness settled over Arabella. She quietly pulled her arm away from Brenton and turned to leave, heading toward the room she used to stay in.

As soon as she walked off, the laughter behind her picked up again. No one stopped her. Nobody asked about her injury. She had to take care of herself. The burn on her skin still hurt, and she had no intention of letting it turn into something worse.

When she reached her room and pushed the door open, she froze. The space had been completely changed. What used to be her room now held rows of airplane models, arranged neatly as if it had always been meant for that purpose. Across from the door, Brinley's photo hung on the wall.

In the picture, Brinley wore a stylish outfit with sunglasses resting on her nose. Her hands rested on her hips as she lifted her chin, a carefree smile on her face, with the State Aviation Academy standing behind her.

A cold laugh slipped from Arabella's lips.

"Forgot to tell you. This room has already been remodeled. Anyway, you're married now and rarely come back. Just use one of the guest rooms if you need to freshen up."

Archie's voice came from behind as he stepped forward. He reached out and shut the door, as if even her presence inside would leave something behind.

Turning to face him, Arabella lifted a brow, her expression calm. "So now that I'm married, I don't even deserve a space here? Not even something as small as a servant's room? When Brinley gets married one day, will you take back her bedroom, her dance room, her music room, her art studio, her study, her walk-in closet, and this model room too?"

Within the Rogers estate, an entire floor belonged to Brinley alone. Yet when Arabella came back, she had been given a small servant's room. Now, even that had been taken away.

The Rogers family never wanted Arabella to return in the first place. Still, they acted as if she were the one being distant and ungrateful, always insisting she come back to strengthen family ties. The thought was ridiculous.

Under her mocking gaze, Archie felt a flicker of discomfort. But that unease didn't last. It quickly turned into irritation, and his voice dropped. "Arabella, you don't dance, you don't play instruments, and you don't paint. Why do you always compare yourself to Brinley? If you want to compete, then try being more thoughtful and understanding. Mom's birthday is coming up. Brinley has been preparing something for a while now. What have you done for Mom?"

A faint, mocking laugh escaped Arabella. Was it really that she didn't paint or play instruments, or had no one ever asked? They had already decided she was lacking and placed her beneath Brinley without a second thought. Still, none of that mattered anymore.

A thought crossed her mind, and she pressed her lips together, forcing her expression into something hurt. "Of course, I prepared something. I bought Mom a manor. I came back today to get the papers. Archie, give me the folder of deeds and identification. I'll transfer the manor to Mom as a surprise."

She held her breath, anxiety creeping in as she waited, worried he might catch onto her little plan.

But her image-trying too eagerly to please despite their indifference-was too solid, and Archie nodded without hesitation. "That's more like it. Come upstairs. I'll get it for you."

Not long after, she tucked the relevant documents about the apartment her grandmother had left her into her bag.

She had no intention of staying any longer. Without hesitation, she moved toward the stairs and headed down quickly, ignoring Archie calling after her.

Her steps didn't slow as she descended, but Brody came rushing out of the dining room when he heard Archie's voice. He reached out and stopped her. "Everyone is waiting for you to eat. Where are you going?"

"Eat? Fine." Turning around, Arabella walked to the dining room.

Seeing that she wasn't making trouble, Brody followed behind her with a sense of relief.

But the moment she reached the table, her hand shot out and grabbed the tablecloth.

With a sharp pull, everything came crashing down. Plates shattered. Glassware hit the floor. Lauren screamed, and Jorge's voice rose in anger.

A cold smile appeared on Arabella's face. "You asked me to come back for dinner, yet none of the dishes suits me. Since you make me unhappy, let's all skip dinner."

Without another word, she turned and stormed out. She had reached her limit and refused to endure her discomfort any longer.