
The CEO Drove His Mute Wife Away, Now He Regrets
For three years, Adrian's heart belonged to another, and his wife Jessica-mute and unloved-endured his coldness.
Realizing she deserved better, she quietly left him, divorce papers on the table.
Adrian tore them up, accusing her of childish games, but Jessica had no interest in wasting more of her life.
After their split, her voice returned and she was suddenly surrounded by admirers.
Adrian, blinded by jealousy, begged her to come back.
Jessica only laughed, repeating his own words, saying, "Didn't you say love is the most worthless thing in the world?"
Now, she'd never look back.
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Chapter 1
"Jessica, send a bottle of warm honey water to my hotel room. I need it to sober up."
Because of that brief message from her husband, Jessica Howard left the house close to midnight.
Late autumn cold gnawed at her skin as she stood by the roadside, waiting far too long before a cab finally stopped in front of her.
By the time the car pulled up in front of the hotel, the chill had seeped into her bones, her lips darkening with a faint purplish hue.
She followed the room number her husband, Adrian Buckley, had given her, walking down the quiet corridor until she stopped outside the designated door.
Her raised hand hesitated when she noticed the door was not fully shut, a narrow gap left open, almost as though someone had deliberately left it that way.
From inside, a woman's voice drifted out, soft and teasing. "Adrian, when are you going to divorce my mute sister?"
Jessica's entire body froze at that.
She recognized that voice instantly. It belonged to her half-sister, Eleanor Howard.
And her sister was clearly talking to her husband.
Jessica's first instinct was to turn around and walk away, yet the warmth of the water bottle in her pocket reminded her that she was here for a reason, and she forced herself to push the door wide open.
The moment she appeared in the doorway, Adrian looked up sharply, his gaze cold as he snapped, "Why are you here?"
Jessica dropped her eyes and reached into her pocket, carefully pulling out the bottle.
Before she could hand it to Adrian, Eleanor lunged forward and seized it from her grasp.
"Oh my, Jessica!" Eleanor said with exaggerated surprise. "You came all this way just to deliver honey water to Adrian?"
She let out a light laugh. "How considerate. But he does not need your concern. He isn't drunk at all."
With a flick of her wrist, Eleanor tossed the bottle into the trash can, then casually picked up a phone from the table, scrolling through it as she cast Jessica a sideways glance filled with mockery.
Jessica recognized that phone at once. It was Adrian's.
In that instant, a realization settled heavily in her chest.
The message that summoned her to the hotel had never been sent by Adrian; it had come from Eleanor.
Eleanor's boldness was fueled by Adrian's indulgence, his affection giving her the confidence to act without restraint.
Jessica felt her heart sink. She slowly lifted her hands and signed, "The honey water has been delivered. I will leave now."
As she turned toward the door, Eleanor's syrupy voice reached her again.
"Adrian, do you think she heard everything we said just now? What if she goes back and complains to your family about it? You know how difficult life is for a single mother like me, raising a child alone. I really cannot afford any more trouble."
She spoke with a gentle tone, each word sounding harmless yet cutting deep.
Jessica shook her head quickly, desperate to deny the accusation.
She had never complained to the Buckley family about anything; it was simply that the Buckley family had never approved of Adrian associating himself with a widow who already had a child.
Adrian did not spare her a glance. His voice cut through the air as he issued a cold command. "Why are you still standing there? Leave!"
Jessica's eyes burned, the rims flushing red as she lowered her head and nodded.
But Eleanor was far from satisfied. Her voice sharpened as she said, "The position of Adrian's wife was supposed to be mine, yet you took it before I ever had the chance."
She paused, eyes flashing with hurt. "What more do you want from me? Do you have to destroy me and my son completely?"
With that, she broke into sobs, crying as if she were the one who had been deeply wronged.
Adrian immediately softened, drawing her closer as he murmured, "That is all in the past. Do not worry. As long as I am here, no one will dare bully you or Lucas."
Jessica stood there, listening to their voices behind her, each word pressing into her chest until the pain became unbearable.
On their wedding day, Adrian had made it clear to her—other than the title of his wife, he would give her nothing, and she was not to hope for anything that was never meant to be hers.
Among the things she was forbidden to expect was love, and Adrian himself.
To put it plainly, Adrian had never loved her at all.
She was the foolish one, falling in love with someone who was never meant for her.
The thought made Jessica's nose sting, heat gathering behind her eyes as tears threatened to fall.
She held them back, turned away, and hurried out of the hotel without looking back.
Eleanor waited until the door shut before turning to Adrian, looping her arms around his neck as she said softly, "Adrian, can you really not divorce her and marry me instead?"
The warmth in Adrian's eyes vanished in an instant at that, his expression hardening as he replied, "I told you not to bring this up again. I can give you anything you want, but I can't give you the title of my wife."
Those words sent Eleanor's tears streaming down her cheeks. "Then who will hold that title? That mute sister of mine? You clearly do not love her at all. Why are you still staying with her?"
Adrian's brows tightened with irritation, yet Eleanor didn't notice it as she spun on her heel, storming out of the room, her footsteps loud after her outburst.
Adrian had drunk some that night, not enough to lose control, but his stomach still churned with discomfort.
The honey water Jessica had brought was already thrown in the trash by Eleanor, so Adrian left the room with the intention of asking the hotel staff to get him another bottle.
He had not gone far when he spotted Jessica standing near the elevator. His voice stopped her in place. "Why have you not gone back yet?"
Jessica turned at the sound, clearly startled to see him. Unsure of how to respond, she just lowered her head, her gaze fixed on the floor, lingering on the tips of her feet.
She had rushed out earlier wearing only thin slippers.
Somewhere along the way, they had been torn open at the front, a large rip exposing her toes, the shoes clearly no longer wearable.
Adrian followed her line of sight, then reached out and pulled her closer. "I will have someone bring you another pair."
He guided her back toward the hotel room, telling her to remove the damaged slippers.
Under the weight of his gaze, Jessica felt embarrassment creep up her neck as she took the slippers off, heat blooming across her face.
Adrian's eyes lingered briefly on her small, delicate feet before his arm circled her waist, drawing her in as he lowered his lips to hers.
Jessica instinctively softened, curling into his hold as the scent of alcohol reached her, intertwined with Eleanor's heavy perfume, a cloying presence she was unable to ignore.
She shifted slightly, placing her palm against his chest in a clear attempt to push him away.
But Adrian disregarded the weak resistance, his mouth pressing harder against hers as he forced her backward until she sank into the sofa.
There was a sharp, predatory tension to him, his lean frame looming close, all restraint stripped away.
Without any foreplay, pain cut through Jessica, drawing a sharp breath from her lungs as tears welled in her eyes.
Adrian lifted a hand, brushing the tears from her cheek with his fingertip before bringing them to his lips, the desire in his gaze growing.
His eyes lingered on her tear-soaked face, a curve forming at the corner of his mouth as he murmured, "You cannot even moan? Poor thing."
Jessica's tears spilled faster at his words.
She couldn't speak.
How could she make a sound for him?
Adrian knew this better than anyone, yet every time they were intimate, he said something like that to humiliate her, as if trying to force her to speak to satisfy his twisted sense of fun.
Jessica shut her eyes, then lifted her face and leaned closer to his chest.
She tried to comply, knowing that the more obedient she appeared, the less pain she would endure during their intimacy.
A flicker crossed Adrian's expression as his hand closed around her slender neck, his lips claiming hers again with force, though the movement of his body finally eased into something marginally gentler.
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8.6
It was my birthday, but instead of celebrating, I was bleeding on the floor of my own bedroom. My sister Serena had just smashed a champagne bottle over my legs, her eyes filled with a dark madness because our father allowed me to wear the family diamonds.
To escape her, I bolted into a pitch-black guest suite, only to be grabbed by a man who felt like a wall of solid muscle. He was drugged, unstable, and pinned me against the wall, his teeth sinking into my neck in a primal claim that left a permanent mark.
I managed to flee, but the nightmare was just beginning. My father didn't care about my injuries; he only cared that I had "insulted" the man in that room—Delos French, the most powerful CEO in New York. He threatened to stop paying for my mother’s critical care facility unless I went to Delos and begged for his forgiveness.
My brother Julian was even worse, intentionally pouring scalding coffee over my bandaged wounds just to see me flinch. They forced me into a revealing gold dress, treating me like a high-priced commodity to be sold to the highest bidder to save their failing company.
I didn't understand how the people who were supposed to love me could be more predatory than the monster in the dark. I had spent my life fixing their scandals, yet they were ready to throw me to the wolves the moment I became useful as a pawn.
But when I stood before Delos French at his gala, he didn't see a trophy. He recognized my scent, my touch, and the fire in my eyes. He trapped me in his private lounge, kneeling to clean the blood from my injured feet.
"Marry me," he whispered, his voice a low, terrifying growl. "And I will give you the power to burn your family to the ground."
I looked into the eyes of the man who had hunted me and realized he was the only one offering me a weapon to destroy the people who had broken me.
"Okay," I whispered.

7.4
For six years, I worked myself to the bone to support my "struggling artist" boyfriend, Kasen. I paid the rent on our leaky Brooklyn apartment and believed in his dream, thinking our love was real.
That all ended one rainy night when I delivered documents to an exclusive club and overheard him with his wealthy friends. Our life, he said, was just a "sociological experiment."
He wasn't poor at all. He was a trust fund heir with a fiancée in the Hamptons, waiting to close a corporate merger.
"Kaia is just a naive pet who voluntarily pays my rent," he laughed over a three-thousand-dollar glass of scotch.
He told them girls like me were so desperate we'd come crawling back for a scrap of affection. My entire world shattered.
I packed my bags and walked out that night with eighty-four dollars to my name, ready to start over. But escaping one monster only threw me to another. The next day, a predatory client tried to drug me during a business meeting.
My boss, the terrifyingly powerful CEO Camden William, intervened. But after a night of drug-induced chaos, I woke up in his bed.
He didn't offer an apology. He offered a contract. "Marry me for three years," he commanded, "and I'll give you five million dollars and make sure Kasen can never touch you again."

9.8
I sat in the VIP waiting room of the fertility clinic, clutching the report that confirmed my implantation was a success. After years of struggling, I finally had a reason to make my marriage with Garnett work.
But when I went to find him in the lounge, I heard a woman’s laughter coming from behind the door. It was his mistress, Alison. I froze as I heard Garnett’s cold, dismissive voice.
"She’s just an incubator."
"Once the heir is born, we kick her out. The trust fund only requires a legitimate heir born to my wife. It doesn't require the wife to stick around afterwards."
The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. I soon discovered the clinic had botched the procedure—the baby I was carrying wasn't even Garnett’s. It was donor sperm from Sterling Sharp, the most powerful tech mogul in the world.
When my in-laws forced me to move into their estate for "monitoring," I realized I was entering a cage. Garnett and his mistress were paying the family doctor to inject me with hallucinogens to mimic a mental breakdown. They planned to declare me legally incompetent and commit me to an asylum the second I gave birth.
I stood in the shadows of the East Wing, realizing my husband wasn't just stealing my child—he was trying to delete my mind. The people I called family were poisoning me daily, waiting for me to break so they could claim a legacy that wasn't even theirs.
They wanted a madwoman, so I decided to give them one. I turned the doctor into my double agent, faked every symptom of a breakdown, and began building a secret empire from the shadows. Garnett thinks he’s trapped an incubator, but he’s actually locked himself in with a nuclear weapon.

8.5
Hadley married into the Jacobson family, a ruthless Wall Street empire. Her prenuptial agreement was absolute: she wouldn't touch a penny of the family wealth until she produced an heir.
But one rainy night, she used a copied keycard to enter a secret Tribeca penthouse, only to find her husband tangled in bed with a famous actress.
When she slapped the divorce papers in front of him, Cleveland didn't apologize.
"The party who files walks away with nothing. You will die in this position."
He tore the documents to pieces. To protect his flawless public image, he forced Hadley to attend family galas, smirking coldly while his grandfather publicly humiliated her for her "barren" stomach. When Hadley finally fought back and confronted his mistress, Cleveland snapped. With a single phone call, he froze her bank accounts, revoked her access to their home, and left her stranded in a cold parking garage.
She had given up her independence for a man who treated her like a useless breeding machine. He thought he could erase three years of her life in an instant, confident that his money made him invincible.
But Cleveland didn't know she was holding the ultimate weapon to destroy his precious legacy. As he received a frantic call about his mistress and rushed to his SUV, Hadley finally screamed the agonizing secret she had hidden for years.
"I can't give you an heir! It's over!"
Watching his taillights disappear into the dark, Hadley prepared to burn his empire to the ground.

8.0
She's working tirelessly to support her family, unaware that the man she's serving as an assistant is the CEO she once saved from a minor accident. Professional boundaries blur, tension ignites, and forbidden attraction threatens everything. Can love survive when secrets are revealed, or will ambition and pride destroy them both?

8.0
I spent six years as a "shadow asset" for the Holmes family, a brilliant scholar living in a cramped Queens apartment on a secret scholarship. I was their silent investment, a ghost in their machine, until the day a fluorescent orange eviction notice appeared on my door.
The legal documents from Holmes Holdings were brutal. They were terminating my sponsorship and demanding immediate repayment of every cent of my tuition. The reason was buried in the fine print: a moral turpitude clause. I was pregnant with a Holmes heir, and in their world, that made me a liability that needed to be erased.
Ingram Holmes, the family’s cold-blooded CEO, didn't see a woman; he saw a line item on a balance sheet. He offered me a million dollars to disappear, abort the child, and sign away my existence. He had me escorted to a private clinic like a criminal, ready to finalize my erasure. But the plan shattered when his grandmother, the matriarch of the family, collapsed in a sudden cardiac arrest.
As the doctors failed, I stepped out of the shadows. I diagnosed the toxicity they couldn't see and brought her back from the brink of death. I wasn't the helpless charity case they expected. I was a genius who knew their medical secrets better than their own surgeons.
"Who are you?" Ingram growled, pinning me against a desk in his frozen office.
I didn't blink. I had just secured the family's ancient signet ring and a seat at their table. Now, I’m living in his manor, sharing his bed, and holding the keys to the vault that contains their darkest sins.
"I'm the problem you can't afford to solve," I whispered.
The game has changed. I’m no longer the asset—I’m the hunter.