The Genius Heiress Divorces Her Billionaire

"Where is he, Mitch?"

Arline Monroe gripped her phone. She pressed her fingernails so hard into her palm that the skin broke. The sharp sting grounded her.

"Mr. Caldwell is currently unavailable, Mrs. Caldwell."

The voice of her husband's personal assistant cracked over the speaker.

"It is our third anniversary. It is past midnight. Where is my husband?"

Arline asked the question again. Her chest tightened. Her lungs felt like they were shrinking.

She stared at the small box wrapped in a silk ribbon sitting on her vanity. The box held a vintage watch she spent six months tracking down for Edgardo.

"He had an emergency. He is in the West Wing."

Mitch rushed the words out and ended the call. The line went dead.

Arline dropped the phone on the vanity. The device hit the wood with a loud smack.

A cold knot formed in her stomach. The West Wing.

The Caldwell estate was a massive property in Washington D. C. The main house belonged to Edgardo and Arline. The West Wing belonged entirely to Kenia Caldwell.

Kenia was an orphan the Caldwell family took in twenty years ago. The family claimed she was Edgardo's adopted sister. Kenia had a weak heart and a fragile immune system. Edgardo treated her like a glass doll. He made a strict rule three years ago. No one was allowed to disturb Kenia in the West Wing.

Arline stood up. Her silk nightgown brushed against the thick carpet.

Her heart hammered against her ribs. She needed to see him. She needed to know why her husband chose his adopted sister over his wife on their anniversary.

Arline pushed open the heavy oak door of the master bedroom.

A blast of cold air hit her face. The autumn wind leaked through the old stone walls of the estate.

She walked barefoot onto the marble floor of the hallway. The cold stone sent a shiver up her spine.

Thunder shook the floorboards. Lightning flashed outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. The bright light illuminated the oil paintings of the Caldwell ancestors on the walls.

Arline walked into the glass corridor that connected the main house to the West Wing.

Rain slammed against the glass roof. The noise was deafening. Water seeped through a crack in the window frame and dripped onto her bare shoulder.

She flinched at the freezing temperature. She wrapped her arms around her waist, but she did not stop walking.

She reached the end of the corridor. The heavy double doors to Kenia's private suite stood in front of her.

The doors were not closed. A two-inch gap let a slice of warm, yellow light spill out into the dark hallway.

Arline stopped breathing. She stepped closer to the gap.

She looked through the opening.

Edgardo Caldwell sat on the edge of a large, plush bed. He wore his expensive tailored trousers and a white dress shirt. His tie was gone. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone.

He looked relaxed. Arline had not seen his shoulders drop like that in months.

Kenia wore a thin, white lace nightgown. She sat next to him.

Kenia rested her head on Edgardo's shoulder. Her hand rested flat against his chest.

Arline grabbed the wooden doorframe. She squeezed the wood until her knuckles turned bone-white.

Her stomach churned. Acid rose in her throat.

"The thunder scares me, Eddie," Kenia said. Her voice was soft and high-pitched. "Please stay with me tonight."

Edgardo lifted his hand. He ran his fingers through Kenia's long, dark hair.

"I am right here," Edgardo said. His voice was deep and thick with a warmth Arline never heard directed at her.

"But it is your anniversary," Kenia said. She traced a circle over his heart with her index finger. "Will Arline not be angry? She is always so jealous of me."

Edgardo let out a short, dismissive scoff. He adjusted his shirt cuff with his free hand.

"Arline is a spoiled heiress who throws tantrums when she does not get her way," Edgardo said. "She will sit in that bedroom and wait. She cannot live without me. Let her wait."

The words hit Arline like a physical blow to the stomach.

All the air left her body. Her knees shook.

For three years, she cooked his meals. She managed the estate budget. She swallowed her pride and ignored the rumors in the D. C. social circles. She did it because she loved him.

He thought she was a joke. He thought she was a pathetic, clingy dog waiting for a scrap of attention.

Kenia tilted her head up. She pressed her lips against Edgardo's jawline.

It was a slow, deliberate kiss.

Edgardo did not pull away. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.

Arline felt her blood turn to ice. The love she held in her chest for five years snapped. It did not fade. It died instantly, leaving behind a hollow, rotting sensation.

She did not cry. Her eyes burned, but no tears fell.

She let go of the doorframe. She took one step back into the freezing glass corridor.

She looked at the two people on the bed one last time. They looked like strangers. Disgust crawled over her skin like insects.

Arline turned her back to the warm light. She walked away.