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The Divorced Psychic's Spectacular Comeback Novel Cover

The Divorced Psychic's Spectacular Comeback

For two years, Elena played the role of the perfect, submissive wife to her wealthy husband, Andrew Macdonald, quietly swallowing the daily insults of his elite circle to appease his family. But using her hidden divination skills, she tracked his GPS to a dirty nightclub terrace and caught him tightly holding a fragile, crying woman, calling Elena a disposable "Appalachian hillbilly." "The lawyers are drafting the divorce papers. Next week, she'll be out of New York for good." Hearing Andrew promise this gently to his cheating partner, Elena stepped into the dim light, only to be met with nasty mockery from his arrogant friends, while the mistress shrank back and pretended to be an innocent victim. Andrew glared at Elena with deep annoyance, aggressively demanding she stop embarrassing him in public and go back to the countryside, fully expecting her to break down, cry, and beg him to save their marriage. Two years of cooking his meals, ironing his shirts, and enduring his family's cruel abuse were nothing but a sick joke to him, completely blind to the terrifying, ancient power she actually wielded. Instead of shedding a single tear, Elena mercilessly exposed their darkest medical and financial secrets, signed the divorce papers without taking a single dime, and stepped into her new life as the untouchable master she truly was.
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Chapter 4

The cold night air hit Elena's face. She stood on the curb with Sloane, waiting for the valet to bring the car.

Heavy, frantic footsteps slapped against the pavement behind them.

Elena turned her head.

Jett charged out of the club doors. His eyes were bloodshot. He held the half-empty whiskey bottle by the neck.

"You ruined her!" Jett screamed, spit flying from his mouth.

He raised the heavy glass bottle high above his head and swung it directly at Elena's face.

Sloane shrieked and covered her head.

Elena didn't flinch.

As the bottle came down, Elena shifted her weight to her left foot. She tilted her upper body just enough. The bottle sliced through the empty air, missing her nose by an inch.

Elena simply stepped smoothly to the side. As Jett's momentum carried him recklessly forward, Elena's foot subtly hooked behind his ankle. Jett lost his footing entirely. He tripped over his own feet, his arms flailing wildly as he crashed down hard onto the curb. A loud pop echoed in the quiet street as his shoulder hit the concrete at an unnatural angle.

Jett let out a deafening scream. His fingers opened, and the whiskey bottle shattered against the concrete, spraying glass and alcohol everywhere. He folded in half like a piece of paper, clutching his dislocated shoulder. Jett collapsed into the puddle of whiskey and broken glass.

Andrew ran out of the club just in time to see Jett hit the ground.

He stopped dead in his tracks. He stared at Elena, his brain unable to process what he just saw.

"Are you insane?" Andrew roared, running over to Jett. "You're a violent psycho!"

Elena reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue. She wiped the hand that had touched Jett's wrist.

"He attacked me with a weapon," Elena said, her voice completely flat. "It's called self-defense."

"I'm calling the police!" Andrew yelled, pulling out his phone. "I'm going to lock you up!"

Elena pointed a single finger up at the streetlamp.

"There's a security camera right there," Elena said. "Call them. But if the police show up, I'll make sure they look into Jett's missing two million dollars while they're at it."

Andrew's thumb froze over the screen. He looked at the camera, then down at Jett, who was still groaning on the ground. He slowly lowered his phone.

The valet pulled Sloane's black Porsche up to the curb.

Elena walked over and opened the passenger door.

Andrew suddenly stepped forward and slammed his hand flat against the top of the door, stopping her from getting in. He stared at her face, searching for the weak, quiet girl he thought he knew.

Elena met his gaze. Her eyes were dark, cold, and entirely empty of the love she used to fake for him.

A sharp pain hit Andrew's chest. He ignored it.

"Don't play games tomorrow," Andrew warned through gritted teeth. "Sign the papers."

"Bring them at nine," Elena said.

She looked at his forehead. A faint, greyish shadow hovered over his skin.

"And Andrew," Elena added, her tone shifting to something eerie and serious. "Stay away from large bodies of water. Or it will kill you."

Andrew scoffed, a harsh sound of disbelief. "Save your cheap curses for someone who cares."

Elena slapped his hand off the car door. She slid into the leather seat and pulled the door shut with a loud slam.

Sloane hit the gas. The Porsche engine roared, leaving Andrew standing on the curb next to his vomiting friend.

Inside the car, Sloane hit the steering wheel with her palms.

"That was incredible!" Sloane yelled. "Did you see his face? You broke Jett in half!"

Elena leaned her head back against the headrest. She watched the city lights blur past the window. Her chest felt light. The suffocating weight of the Macdonald family was finally gone.

She pulled out her phone. She opened her contacts. With a few quick taps, she blocked Andrew's number. Then Jett's. Then Beatrice's.

She deleted her entire past.

Back on the street, Andrew watched the red taillights of the Porsche disappear. His heart beat too fast. A strange, suffocating panic gripped his throat.

Kaitlynn walked out of the club. She reached out to touch his arm.

Andrew flinched. He pulled his arm away, taking a step back from her.

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