The Broken Wife's Ultimate Revenge

Juliana gasped. Her lungs dragged in a sharp breath of air.

She opened her eyes. The harsh boardroom lights stabbed at her retinas.

She was leaning against a solid chest. A dark suit jacket draped over her shoulders. It smelled of clean cedarwood and mint.

She tilted her head up. Kian Vance, her boss, was looking down at her. His blue eyes were wide with worry.

"Juliana. Do you need me to call an ambulance?"

His voice was low, meant only for her ears.

Juliana's stomach twisted. She shoved her hands against his chest and pushed herself away.

She stumbled back, her heels wobbling on the carpet. She quickly smoothed down her pencil skirt.

"I apologize, everyone."

She kept her voice flat. Professional. Distant.

"Just a sudden drop in blood sugar."

Kian frowned. The lines around his mouth tightened. "Juliana, you've been working eighty-hour weeks. If you collapse again, the board will start asking questions about your fitness for this role, and the rumors are already starting to circle," he warned quietly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Meeting paused for ten minutes," Kian announced loudly to the room.

He didn't wait for a response. He grabbed a glass from the table, filled it with warm water from the pitcher, and pressed it into her hands.

"Drink it. Sit down."

Juliana stared at the glass. The warmth seeped into her freezing fingers.

"Thank you, Mr. Vance."

She avoided his eyes. She couldn't handle his concern. Not when her own husband looked at her with pure disgust.

She set the glass down.

"Excuse me. I need the restroom."

She practically ran out of the boardroom.

In the bathroom, she turned the faucet to the coldest setting. She splashed the freezing water onto her face. The shock made her gasp, forcing her brain to wake up.

Hours later, the workday ended.

"Let me drop you off," Kian offered as they stood by the elevators.

"No. Thank you. I ordered an Uber."

She walked away before he could argue.

The rain started pouring as the Uber drove toward Long Island. The heavy drops slapped against the window.

Juliana stared at her reflection in the dark glass. She looked exhausted. Hollow.

The car pulled up to the massive iron gates of the Landry family estate.

The security guard checked her ID. He was perfectly polite, but his eyes lingered on her face a second too long, carrying a hesitant, overly scrutinizing weight before he slowly opened the gate.

Juliana stepped out of the car. She opened her black umbrella. The wind whipped her hair across her face as she walked across the manicured lawn toward the main house.

She pushed open the heavy oak doors.

The grand foyer was dead silent.

The head butler appeared. He took her wet coat. His posture was stiff. Down the hall, a young maid peeked around the corner, whispering furiously to another servant before scurrying away. The subtle shift in the estate's atmosphere was suffocating. His eyes held a strange, uncomfortable pity.

"When does the family trust fund review start tonight?" Juliana asked, unbuttoning her blazer.

The butler looked at the marble floor.

"The meeting has been postponed, Madam. By Master Adelbert's orders."

Juliana froze. Her hand stopped mid-air.

She was the wife. She was supposed to be at that meeting. She had been completely cut out.

Footsteps echoed from the grand staircase.

Two maids hurried down the hallway toward the guest wing. They were carrying stacks of brand-new silk bedsheets.

"Stop," Juliana said. "Are we expecting guests?"

The maids froze. They looked at each other, terrified. They turned to the butler for help.

The butler cleared his throat.

"Master Adelbert arranged for a VIP guest to stay in the east wing, Madam."

Juliana's heart dropped into her stomach. The cold from the rain seeped into her bones.

She knew exactly who the guest was.

She didn't scream. She didn't cry. Three years of living in this house had taught her how to wear a mask.

She nodded slowly.

"I see."

She turned and walked up the sweeping staircase to her bedroom on the second floor.

She pushed the door open. The massive king-sized bed looked like an island in the middle of a cold ocean. The loneliness crushed her chest.

She walked to the floor-to-ceiling window.

Down below, the iron gates opened again. A black Maybach rolled up the driveway.

Adelbert stepped out. He held a large black umbrella.

He opened the passenger door. He reached his hand out.

A woman in a white trench coat stepped out into the rain. Corrin.

Juliana watched as Adelbert smiled at Corrin. It was a soft, gentle smile. A smile he had never, not once, given to Juliana.

Juliana reached out and grabbed the heavy velvet curtains. She pulled them shut, blocking out the sight.