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The Billionaire's Doll Walks Away Forever Novel Cover

The Billionaire's Doll Walks Away Forever

I spent three years playing the role of the perfect, silent wife in Elek Hamilton’s penthouse, treated as little more than an expensive piece of furniture. When I finally gathered the courage to ask for a divorce, he didn't even look at me, dismissing my request as a childish tantrum or a ploy for a new car. He treated our marriage like a business contract, and my existence as a routine task to be checked off, all while he kept a secret life that shattered my world. I discovered he wasn't just cold; he was obsessed with his ex-girlfriend, Carlee Kelley, and I was nothing but a living, breathing replica—a placeholder he kept to satisfy his own twisted nostalgia. The final blow came when I saw the lipstick smudge on his collar and the text from her calling me his "little doll," confirming that every touch and every word of affection he’d ever given me was meant for someone else. I was never his wife; I was a ghost haunting his home, a prop for his true love. How could I have been so blind, letting my soul wither away for a man who didn't even see me as human? I didn't want his money or his empire anymore; I just wanted to stop being a shadow. I walked out of that penthouse with nothing but the clothes on my back, determined to reclaim the life I had buried, even if he tried to use my family to keep me trapped.
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Chapter 4

Elek Hamilton cut into his rare steak. The knife scraped against the expensive ceramic plate. He chewed the meat, but it tasted like ash in his mouth.

He sat in the private dining room of a three-Michelin-star restaurant in Manhattan. Across from him, his friend Zev Kagan was talking rapidly about a hostile takeover in the tech sector.

Elek heard none of it. His brain kept replaying the scene from his bedroom.

I want a divorce.

The words buzzed in his ears like a persistent fly. It was absurd. She had everything. She had his name, his money, his penthouse. Why was she acting out?

Zev stopped talking. He tapped his fork against his wine glass.

"What is eating you, Elek? You have been staring at that steak for ten minutes."

Elek dropped his knife. He picked up his glass of red wine and took a long swallow. The alcohol burned the back of his throat.

"Just some noise at home."

Zev leaned back in his chair. A knowing smile touched his lips.

"Noise has a name, I assume? Let me guess. Dayami."

Elek did not answer. Zev was one of the few people who knew the marriage was a transaction.

Zev's smile faded. He lowered his voice.

"My security detail, who handles the clinic's VIP protection, flagged that your wife is a regular patient there. She has been going to therapy for months."

Elek's jaw tightened. He adjusted his cuffs, pulling the fabric sharply.

"A therapist? How cliché. Another way to burn my money and get sympathy."

Zev shook his head. "I do not know, man. Maybe you should take it seriously. She is not the same girl you married."

Elek let out a cold, dismissive laugh.

"She is exactly what I married her for. A beautiful, quiet accessory. If she has forgotten that, I will have to remind her."

His phone vibrated on the table. He ignored it. He refused to let Zev see that Dayami's behavior was getting under his skin.

A waiter opened the heavy wooden door of the private room to clear the plates.

Elek looked up, annoyed by the interruption. He opened his mouth to tell the waiter to leave.

His eyes caught movement in the main dining room through the open doorway. His gaze locked onto a table near the window.

His lungs stopped working.

Dayami was sitting there. She was wearing the same beige coat she had on this morning. But her face was completely different. She was smiling. Her shoulders were relaxed.

And she was not alone.

A man in a navy suit sat across from her. The man leaned in, pouring wine into Dayami's glass. He said something, and Dayami laughed.

Elek felt a violent surge of heat rush straight to his head. The blood pounded in his temples.

He had left her in the penthouse this morning, demanding a divorce. And now she was here, laughing with another man in a public restaurant.

Zev followed Elek's line of sight. Zev let out a low whistle.

"Well. That is unexpected."

Elek's fingers gripped the stem of his wine glass. The thin crystal groaned under the pressure.

His mind worked rapidly, connecting dots that did not exist. She wanted a divorce. She had a new man. She was securing her next meal ticket before she even filed the papers.

A dark, ugly feeling clawed at his stomach. Jealousy and rage mixed into a toxic sludge in his veins. She was his wife. She belonged in his penthouse.

"What are you going to do?" Zev asked, his voice cautious.

Elek did not look at Zev. He kept his eyes fixed on the man pouring wine for his wife.

He saw the man smile at Dayami.

Elek stood up. The heavy chair scraped loudly against the floorboards. The sound made the waiter jump.

"Excuse me," Elek said. His voice was dangerously quiet.

He walked out of the private room. His strides were long and purposeful. He headed straight for Dayami's table.

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