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The Discarded Wife Is An Unstoppable Tycoon Novel Cover

The Discarded Wife Is An Unstoppable Tycoon

Eleanor gave three years of her life to her marriage, only to be cast aside by her husband so he could chase his first love—and turned into the city's favorite punchline. Walking away should have been the end of her story. Instead, it's the beginning. One by one, the talents she kept buried come to light, and she rises into a force no one saw coming: a secret tycoon. When her ex-husband learns the truth, regret consumes him. He kneels before her with a diamond ring, begging for a second chance. Eleanor's answer is a single, cutting sneer. And before he can recover, a zillionaire pulls her close and makes his own claim clear—she belongs to him now.
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Chapter 1

"Let's divorce."

Three simple words. And just like that, Eleanor Reed became the discarded wife of a powerful family.

She had poured three years of her life into her marriage with Damian Sutton. This was her reward.

Today was their third wedding anniversary. Eleanor had come to his office hoping for a quiet celebration, only to find an expensive necklace sitting on his desk.

For a moment, she thought it was for her.

Damian followed her gaze to the necklace and deliberately closed the elegant box.

"Annabelle is back. This is for her." His words were a clear warning not to get any ideas.

So that was it.

Eleanor lowered her head, her thick, dark-framed glasses masking the bitterness in her eyes.

The woman Damian had always worshipped—his one true love, spoiled beyond reason—was back.

And she, the wife who had never earned a place in his heart, was now just an accessory to be thrown out like trash.

Damian watched her silent, downcast figure and felt a flicker of annoyance.

"I'll make sure you're compensated. Let's finalize this quickly. Don't fool yourself into thinking you can cling to a title that was never yours to begin with." His voice was laced with cold warning.

Truth be told, Eleanor had no real flaws. Her figure, her looks, and her domestic skills were all impeccable. The problem was, she was simply dull.

She was like a tasteless dish—not satisfying, yet not entirely worthless enough to throw away.

A competent housewife. But never the right woman for him.

Seeing her continued silence, he frowned. "I'll give you three days. My patience is limited. Don't make me wait..."

"No need. I'll sign." Eleanor picked up the pen and signed her name on the divorce papers without a moment's hesitation.

They went to the courthouse and processed the paperwork, finalizing their divorce in minutes.

Eleanor stared at the divorce decree. The document stung her eyes. Her heart ached, but beneath the pain, she felt a profound sense of relief.

She was finally free from the exhausting, futile effort of trying to earn his love.

No more being torn between hope and despair, torturing herself day after day.

A clean break was far kinder than a lifetime of slow suffering. It was over.

Damian's phone rang, snapping her out of her thoughts.

He answered, his expression instantly twisting with worry. "What? Annabelle's in the hospital? I'm on my way!"

He hung up, got in his car, and sped off without a single glance in her direction, let alone an offer for a ride.

It was always the same when Annabelle was involved. Damian would become frantic, his world narrowing to focus only on her—the one woman who had ever mattered to him.

After Damian left, a black and red Bugatti pulled up silently in front of Eleanor.

Her best friend, Jennifer Hayes, stepped out in a chic black outfit, a wide grin on her face. "Congratulations on your escape from that hellhole, Your Majesty."

Jennifer tossed the car keys to Eleanor, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Up for a thrill?"

"Get in." Eleanor didn't hesitate. She slammed her foot on the accelerator, and the car shot away from the courthouse.

The Bugatti Veyron raced down Oceancrest Drive, its engine a low, steady hum.

"We have to hit a bar and celebrate! If you hadn't stopped me, I would've popped a bottle of champagne right in that bastard's face!" Jennifer fumed, still looking thoroughly annoyed.

"You plan it. But first, I'm going to a hair salon." Eleanor had no objections. She definitely needed a drink.

"So, " Jennifer pressed, "you've been in hiding for three years. People are looking for you everywhere. When are you going to come out of retirement and shake up the medical world again?"

"I have no plans for now, " Eleanor replied, her expression indifferent.

Jennifer let out a scornful laugh. "I heard your ex-husband has been looking for you, too—to treat his precious, sickly Annabelle. Ha! He'll probably die without ever knowing he was married to The Miracle Doctor."

Eleanor remained silent.

Meanwhile, across town.

Damian was speeding towards the hospital, frantically calling his assistant. "Any news on The Miracle Doctor yet?"

The Miracle Doctor was a legendary doctor who had vanished without a trace three years ago.

No one had managed to find the doctor since. Shrouded in mystery, no one had ever seen their true face or even knew if they were a man or a woman.

"Damian, we've pulled every string and exhausted all our connections. Still nothing on The Miracle Doctor," his assistant replied.

"Then keep looking! Scour the entire globe if you have to! Just find them!"

"Yes, sir!"

Damian screeched into the hospital parking lot, threw open the car door, and sprinted towards the main building.

No matter the cost, he had to find The Miracle Doctor. Annabelle was running out of time.

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