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The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal Novel Cover

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.
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Chapter 5

The morning sun was gray and filtered through the heavy drapes. Anjanette threw a pair of jeans and a sweater into the suitcase. She added her sketchbooks-the ones Adam called her "little hobby"-and a framed photo of her grandfather.

She left the diamond earrings on the dresser. She left the Cartier watch. She left the credit cards. She walked over to the master bedroom, which was empty. On Adam's side of the bed, on the polished surface of his nightstand, she placed her platinum wedding band. It sat there, a small, cold circle, a final, silent statement.

The door to the guest room banged open.

Cheyenne Horton stood there, popping a piece of gum. She was wearing a tracksuit that cost more than Anjanette's college tuition.

Mom says you need to clear out the master closet, Cheyenne said, leaning against the doorframe. Casie is moving in next week. She needs the space.

Anjanette didn't look up. Move, Cheyenne.

Cheyenne stopped chewing. Excuse me?

Elaine appeared behind her daughter, dressed in a silk morning robe, holding a cup of coffee.

Make sure you check her bag, Cheyenne, Elaine said lazily. We don't want her taking any family silver.

Anjanette zipped the suitcase shut. The sound was loud in the quiet room. She stood up and turned to face them.

You can keep your silver, Anjanette said. It's tarnished anyway. Just like this family.

Elaine's eyes widened. How dare you. After everything we've done for you.

Done for me? Anjanette stepped forward, and for the first time, Elaine took a step back. You treated me like a servant who slept in the master bedroom.

She picked up her suitcase.

And tell Casie I wish her luck, Anjanette said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. She's going to need it. Adam is a narcissist with a savior complex, and honestly? He's a boring lay. Three minutes of missionary is hardly worth the trust fund.

Cheyenne's gum fell out of her mouth.

Elaine turned a shade of purple that clashed with her robe. You... you gutter trash! Get out!

Anjanette walked past them. She bumped Cheyenne's shoulder hard enough to make the girl stumble.

Watch it! Cheyenne screeched.

Grow up, Anjanette said over her shoulder.

She walked down the stairs. The servants were pretending to be invisible, but Anjanette saw the slight smile on Mrs. Perry's face.

Elaine was screaming from the landing. Don't you think you're coming back! You'll be begging on the street in a week!

Anjanette reached the front door. She didn't look back. She raised her hand and extended her middle finger.

She walked out into the crisp morning air.

An Uber was waiting at the bottom of the steps. A beat-up Toyota Camry.

She threw her bag in the trunk.

Where to? the driver asked.

JFK Airport, she said.

She pulled out her phone. She opened her email app. She composed a new message.

To: Adam Horton

CC: HR; Board of Directors

Subject: Resignation

Effective immediately, I am resigning from my position as Executive Assistant to the CEO. I am also terminating my marriage.

She hit send.

Then she blocked Elaine. She blocked Cheyenne.

She looked at Adam's number. Her finger hovered over the block button.

Not yet. He needed to see what was coming.

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