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 7
Adrian curled his lips slightly, anger sharpening his voice as he spat, "Do you even understand what you're saying right now?"
Divorce? How could Jessica dare to bring that up?
Tears still shimmered in Jessica's eyes, but her face stayed unnervingly composed as she signed, "I know exactly what I mean. I want a divorce."
Adrian shifted backward and folded his arms across his chest, studying her with lazy detachment. Contempt flickered in his gaze, the kind reserved for a child acting out for attention.
"What right do you think you have to divorce me? Since the day we married, everything you eat, wear, and use has come from me. Without me, how are you going to survive? You can't even speak!"
With every word he threw at her, the color drained further from Jessica's face.
He knew better than anyone that her inability to speak freely had always invited ridicule, yet now, he still used it as a weapon to hurt her.
Was it because he never loved her that cruelty toward her came to him so easily?
Adrian appeared blind to her pain, his voice turning sharper and more mocking as he continued, "Or are you just throwing a fit? Trying to threaten me with the word divorce?"
Jessica's heart ached as her body shook uncontrollably. She signed, "No. I simply don't want to stay with you anymore."
Adrian's expression hardened, his jaw tightening as he snapped, "Fine! But remember this. If you divorce me, you will walk away with nothing."
This was something Jessica had long prepared herself for, so his words did not shock her.
"Don't worry. I won't touch your money again. After the divorce, I'll figure out a way to make a living by myself," she signed.
Adrian let out a derisive laugh, eyes dropping to her hands as he sneered, "Jessica, you think too highly of yourself. You can't speak, and you don't have a job. How exactly do you plan to survive on your own?"
Then, as if a sudden thought amused him, he dragged out a mocking "oh" before adding, "You went to Glamour today, didn't you? Thinking of selling your body like the women there?"
The humiliation in his words cut deep, and tears spilled freely down Jessica's face.
The sight seemed to irritate Adrian. He reached out and tried to wipe her tears away roughly.
But Jessica turned her head away, refusing his touch.
At once, darkness crept into Adrian's eyes, his words growing even more vicious as he said, "Those women know plenty of tricks in bed. What about you?"
He yanked her into his arms, forcing her against his body, one hand tipping her chin upward as his thumb touched her quivering lips. "All you do is lie there like you're lifeless, opening your mouth when you're told and rolling over when you're ordered. It's dull. When I am having sex with you, I feel like I am sleeping with a sex doll."
Jessica could no longer endure the insults being hurled at her.
When driven to the edge, even the most timid person could become courageous.
Jessica was angry now.
She wrenched herself out of Adrian's hold, fury blazing in her eyes as she stared him down.
Her hands flew through the air in sharp, frantic motions. "If you found it so dull, then why did you share a bed with me for three years?"
Jessica had always been gentle by nature, never one to confront anyone head-on.
She had believed words like these would be hard to express, that doing something like this would be unbearably humiliating.
Yet now, standing here, she realized it was not so difficult at all.
Compared to being crushed under people's feet and stripped of dignity, fighting back felt strangely freeing.
Yes, she had loved Adrian for more than ten years.
He had been her first love, the one she had once believed would be her last.
But so what?
From this moment forward, she could choose to stop loving him, could she not?
Adrian was used to Jessica's careful obedience, and her sudden resistance ignited a violent fury inside him as he snapped, "Isn't that exactly what your family begged for?"
Jessica's pupils shrank instantly at that.
What did Adrian mean by that?
Adrian's gaze pinned her in place, lips twisting into a cruel smile as he continued, "When your sister got married, my mother planned to break off the arrangement between our families, but your father refused. He said even though his eldest daughter was taken, he still had a younger daughter."
A cold laugh escaped him, thick with disdain. "He even told me that as long as I didn't object, I could bring you back just to enjoy your company in bed."
Jessica did not question the truth of his words for a second.
Because that was exactly something her father would say.
Tears poured down Jessica's face in heavy drops, draining the color from her skin as her body swayed unsteadily, fragile as a leaf caught in an autumn wind, like she might collapse at any moment.
Adrian steadied her as she faltered, his wide palm brushing away her tears before sliding to the back of her neck, fingers closing there with unmistakable force.
"Why aren't your hands moving now? Feeling embarrassed because you know you have nothing to say against the truth?" he said.
His touch remained deceptively tender, yet his voice cut cold as he added, "So, don't ever bring up divorce in front of me again."
The skin beneath his grasp was soft and supple, carrying a faint fragrance that was irresistibly alluring to any man.
As Adrian's hand lingered and traced slowly, a familiar heat awakened inside him.
His long legs pressed between Jessica's, his taller frame caging her against the cabinet with deliberate pressure.
That large hand of his swept past her ear and slid downward, closing over her chest without hesitation.
He knew her body intimately, knew every place that reacted to the slightest provocation, and with a bit of deliberate teasing, he could draw out the uneven sound of her breathing.
Though Jessica couldn't speak, her breathing during intimacy was undeniably seductive.
Soft and startled, tightly held back, it was intoxicating, like a potent liquor where one taste was enough to make people lose control.
Adrian was already drunk on it, the polished restraint he wore falling away.
With one sharp motion, he tore open her collar, disregarding her weak attempts to resist, and captured her lips in a fierce, consuming kiss.
It left Jessica reeling, her thoughts scattering.
How could he do this?
After she had spoken of divorce, how could he still do this to her?
Jessica could not allow herself to break down again, her hands pushing desperately against his chest.
No. They could not go on like this.
Her struggle did not anger Adrian at all. Instead, it seemed to amuse him, stoking his desire even further.
He caught her hands and pressed them flat against his warm chest, his voice dropping rough as he murmured, "Why struggle? Don't tell me you feel nothing at all."
Anxiety flickered through Jessica as she failed to pull free, her eyes speaking for her with unmistakable clarity—she didn't feel anything.
In the past, during their shared moments, she had liked being held by him, drawing comfort from his warmth and familiar touch.
But right now, under these circumstances, every part of it felt wrong to her.
Adrian held her gaze, then let out a low laugh, amusement glinting in his eyes as he said, "Is that really the case?"
His broad palm slipped beneath her skirt, his touch unerringly precise as it brushed against the unmistakable moisture between her legs.
He chuckled again as he withdrew his fingers, lifting them before her eyes and slowly stretching out a thin, humiliating trace between them.
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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.