The Ex-Wife's Revenge: Billionaire Regrets Everything

Aubree pressed her hand against the wall. Her legs shook as she pushed herself up from the floor. Every time she swallowed, it felt like she was swallowing crushed glass.

She walked into the master bathroom. She peeled the ruined, wet dress off her shivering body. She turned the shower handle to warm. The water hit the dark purple bruises forming on her neck. She squeezed her eyes shut.

She dried off and pulled on a conservative, high-necked silk pajama set. She buttoned it all the way to the top to hide the marks.

Her throat was painfully dry. She opened the bedroom door and stepped into the hallway to get a glass of warm water from the kitchen.

She picked up her smart-home tablet from the marble counter to check if Eli had returned. The screen flickered, displaying the live security feed from the private underground lobby. The audio icon was unmuted. On the screen, Eleonora and Camilla were waiting for the private elevator.

Camilla's sharp voice echoed from the tablet's speaker. "Did you see her face when she fell in?" Camilla laughed. "She looked like a drowned rat."

Eleonora sneered. "We cannot let that commoner take a single cent from the Wolfe family."

"What about the prenup?" Camilla asked. "Are there loopholes? She might try to claim the Manhattan properties."

Eleonora checked her diamond-encrusted Patek Philippe watch. "It is already handled. I had the lawyers move the majority of Eli's liquid assets into an offshore trust in the Cayman Islands."

In the kitchen, Aubree's fingernails dug into her own palms.

"Once Dayna's doctor fakes the miscarriage report," Eleonora continued, "we will leave Aubree with nothing. She will walk out of here with debt."

Ice flooded Aubree's veins. This wasn't just Eli being blind. This was a coordinated slaughter by the entire family.

The elevator doors on the screen opened. Eleonora and Camilla stepped inside, and the feed cut to black.

Aubree set the tablet down. Her body felt numb. She walked down the opposite side of the hallway, toward Eli's study. The door was cracked open.

Eli stood by the window. He had his phone on speaker. He was talking to Cornelius, the patriarch of the Wolfe family.

"Your actions at the party were reckless," Cornelius's stern voice barked through the speaker. "You embarrassed the family."

"I am done with her," Eli said. His voice was hard. "She is a gold digger who will do anything for money. I am divorcing her immediately."

"She has been quiet for three years," Cornelius warned. "Do not push her to the edge."

Eli let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Her obedience is just an act. She is just waiting for the trust fund to unlock."

Aubree stood outside the door. Three years of cooking his meals, ironing his shirts, and giving him pieces of her own body, reduced to a Wall Street calculation.

Her heart physically ached. Her chest caved in. She took a step back.

Her elbow bumped the edge of a console table. A heavy antique vase wobbled.

It made a sharp scraping sound against the wood. Aubree shot her hands out and grabbed the cold porcelain, stopping it from falling.

Inside the study, Eli's head snapped toward the door. "Who is out there?" he snapped.

The heavy oak door swung open. Heavy footsteps stepped into the hallway. Aubree stopped breathing. She pressed her back flat against the wall, sliding silently into the deep shadow of the decorative alcove just inches away. Sweat dripped down her forehead.

Eli stood in the corridor, his piercing gaze sweeping the darkness. He pulled out his phone, his thumb flying across the screen. "Leland," Eli's cold voice echoed. "Check the hallway motion sensors on the penthouse floor immediately. Someone is out here."

Aubree squeezed her eyes shut, her heart hammering against her ribs.

"No movement, sir?" Eli repeated, his eyes narrowing. He let out a frustrated breath, glaring at the empty space one last time before he turned around and slammed the study door shut.

Aubree walked back to her bedroom like a ghost. She locked the door behind her.

She pulled her suitcase out from under the bed. She looked at her left hand. She slid the massive, multi-million dollar diamond wedding ring off her finger. She dropped it onto the nightstand. It made a hollow, metallic clink.