Sir, She's Gone With Their Daughter And Never Returns
My four-year-old daughter was dying of leukemia, waiting desperately for a bone marrow transplant.
I begged my billionaire husband to just call the registry or visit her, but he claimed he was too busy with board meetings to care.
Until the hospital informed me that my daughter's life-saving bone marrow had been suddenly reallocated to another patient.
When I walked down the VIP hallway, I found my husband.
He wasn't at a board meeting. He was gently peeling an apple, playing the loving father to his widowed mistress's daughter.
When my pale, sick daughter called out for him, he instinctively stepped back in disgust.
I later discovered the mistress had bribed the hospital to swap the registry numbers, stealing my daughter's marrow for her own child.
When I demanded a divorce, my husband laughed in my face.
"You haven't worked a day in four years. You're a purchased asset. You don't get to walk away."
He threatened to freeze my accounts, assuming I would be starving on the streets and begging to come back.
His family and the mistress publicly mocked my background, waiting for me to be utterly humiliated.
They thought I was just a useless, penniless housewife who relied entirely on his last name to survive.
They didn't know I never needed a single cent of his money.
I packed my bags, took my daughter, and made a single phone call.
Three days later, at his family's elite banquet, my husband waited to see me beg.
Instead, the most powerful corporate magnate in North America walked right past him, bowed to me at a perfect ninety-degree angle, and spoke.
"Welcome back to the throne, Madam."
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Chapter 6
On the other end of the phone, Adelynn clutched her mobile device tightly.
Calleigh wanted a divorce from Hakeem?
What a ridiculous joke.
Did she actually think this would make Hakeem pay attention to her, or even love her?
Wishful thinking.
Adelynn immediately sent a series of messages to Hakeem:
[Hakeem, what's this about Calleigh wanting a divorce?]
[Control your wife properly. Mom's birthday is this weekend, and there's a ton of housework waiting for her to do.]
[I've always said Erlinda is a much better match for you.]
[I heard you're planning to launch an independent brand for her. That's an excellent idea.]
[CEO Gusta is coming next month, and I'll introduce Erlinda to her. It will definitely boost her career. For Mom's birthday, bring Erlinda and Chloe over. Isn't that child's IQ 115? That's well above average. Erlinda's child is truly exceptional, unlike Calleigh-she's mediocre herself, and she's even dragged down Lily's intelligence.]
Hakeem read the messages and replied with a single, dismissive line:
[It's just a trivial argument.]
He then remembered his mother's birthday banquet; Calleigh's presence was mandatory. He sent her a message at once:
[Quit your petty tantrums. Come home once you're done acting out.]
Calleigh did not reply.
The message was left unanswered, sinking into silence.
Hakeem frowned to himself, convinced he had been too lenient with her, letting her forget her place.
Just then, a message from Erlinda popped up on his screen:
[Chloe misses you terribly and refuses to sleep. Can you come to the hospital to stay with her?]
Hakeem's long, slender fingers typed a single word in response:
[Sure]
After sending the message, he grabbed his coat and strode out of his office.
Outside was the chief secretary's suite.
Secretary noticed the faint smile on her boss's face, a clear sign he was in a good mood.
She knew instantly: Mr. Graves was heading to the hospital to see Miss Erlinda.
It was only a matter of time before he divorced and remarried.
His current wife was utterly insignificant-beautiful, but completely useless in every other way.
Just like the night before, Hakeem stayed at the hospital until early morning.
At half past nine, he returned home to change clothes before heading to the office.
Stopped at a red light, his car remained motionless for nearly five minutes.
Bored with the wait, Hakeem pulled a pack of cigarettes from the glove compartment, tapped one out, and lit it.
The ember on the tip rose and fell, wispy pale gray smoke curling slowly into the air.
Suddenly, his dark eyes sharpened, locking onto a figure on the sidewalk.
He had seen Calleigh.
She was sitting inside an upscale café.
She was not alone.
Across the booth sat a young, handsome man, impeccably dressed with a sleek, metropolitan aura-undoubtedly a top-tier elite.