The Genius Heiress' Ruthless Divorce Revenge

The heavy oak doors of the Holman Manor private memorial library yielded under Harlow's push.

She stepped inside. The main chandelier was off. Only the faint, amber glow from the wall sconces illuminated the edges of the room. The air smelled of old paper and leather, but beneath that familiar scent, there was something else. Something sharp and sour.

Harlow froze.

From the deep shadows near the back bookshelves, a sickening sound reached her ears. It was a wet, heavy panting. A woman's low moan followed, echoing off the mahogany panels.

Harlow's stomach plummeted. The blood drained from her face, leaving her skin ice-cold.

She took a step forward. Her high heel came down on something hard. A sharp crack echoed through the room.

Harlow looked down. The glass face of her parents' framed photograph lay shattered on the Persian rug. The silver frame was dented.

A hot, violent surge of adrenaline rushed into Harlow's veins. Her vision narrowed. She reached out and slammed her palm against the crystal chandelier switch on the wall.

Blinding white light flooded the library.

Harlow stopped breathing.

There, on top of her late father's antique red-wood desk, was her husband. Beck's dress shirt was unbuttoned, his trousers pushed down. Beneath him, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, was Fallon.

Harlow's chest tightened as if a massive hand was crushing her lungs.

"Get off my father's desk," Harlow said. Her voice was a harsh, guttural snap.

She didn't wait for a response. Harlow grabbed the heavy brass paperweight from the edge of the nearest table. She hurled it at the hardwood floor.

The brass slammed into the wood with a deafening crash.

Beck and Fallon scrambled apart. Beck stumbled, pulling up his pants with frantic, jerky motions. Fallon slid off the desk.

But Fallon didn't look ashamed. She slowly pulled the strap of her silk camisole back over her shoulder. A tiny, victorious smirk played at the corners of her mouth.

Beck didn't look guilty. He looked annoyed. He ran a hand through his messy hair and glared at Harlow.

"You should knock, Harlow," Beck snapped. He adjusted his belt. "This room? It's just wood and paper, Harlow. You attach too much sentiment to inanimate objects. Fallon and I were celebrating a business victory. You should be happy for us."

Harlow's eyes dropped to the desk. Beneath the messy stack of papers, her father's favorite gold pocket watch lay crushed. The glass was pulverized. The metal casing was bent out of shape by Beck's weight.

Harlow's hands curled into fists. Her fingernails dug so hard into her palms that the skin broke.

"You bring your whore into this room?" Harlow pointed a shaking finger at the door. "This is a sacred place. How dare you do this filthy thing here?"

Beck finished buckling his belt. He rolled his eyes. "The soundproofing in here is top-tier. It's the perfect place to discuss private business."

Harlow felt bile rise in her throat. She stepped forward, her eyes locked on Fallon.

"Get out," Harlow ordered. "Get your dirty body out of my house right now."

Beck immediately stepped in front of Fallon. He puffed out his chest, creating a physical barrier between Harlow and his mistress. He shoved Harlow back half a step.

"Don't speak to her like that," Beck warned, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Fallon is my soulmate. She actually understands my massive commercial vision for the company. You don't."

Harlow let out a harsh, dry laugh. Three years. She had endured three years of a loveless, exhausting marriage to support this man. It was a massive joke.

Fallon peeked out from behind Beck's broad shoulder. She put on a fake, pitiful expression.

"I'm so sorry, Harlow," Fallon cooed. But her tone was laced with pure, unadulterated gloating. "We couldn't help it."

Beck lifted his chin. He looked down his nose at Harlow. A brief flicker of embarrassment over being caught in the act flashed across his face, but his massive ego quickly crushed it. He straightened his posture, puffing out his chest as he shifted from defensive panic to aggressive arrogance.

"You need to accept reality, Harlow," Beck announced proudly. "Fallon gave me a son. Kade is a brilliant boy. He's my heir."

The words hit Harlow like a physical blow to the head. Her pupils dilated. A violent tremor shook her entire body.

A son. He had a child with her.

Beck sneered, taking advantage of her shock. "You're like a block of ice, Harlow. Three years of marriage, and you refuse to fulfill your basic duties as a wife. You wouldn't give me a child."

Harlow forced the tears back. The burning in her eyes receded, replaced by a freezing, absolute clarity. She saw this man exactly for what he was: a selfish, hypocritical parasite.

Fallon stepped out from behind Beck. She reached out a manicured hand, pretending to be generous.

"We can all coexist peacefully, Harlow," Fallon said, reaching for Harlow's shoulder.

Harlow jerked her body away. She looked at Fallon's hand as if it were covered in disease.

"Don't touch me with your filthy hands," Harlow hissed.

Beck's face flushed with anger. "You are being completely unreasonable. You don't know what's good for you."

Harlow ignored him. She slowly looked around the library. The crushed watch. The shattered photo. The wrinkled papers on the desk.

"This room is contaminated," Harlow said. Her voice was devoid of all warmth. "It's full of trash."

She turned her back on them.

Her high heels clicked sharply against the hardwood floor. Each step was precise. Each step was final. She walked toward the heavy oak doors.

"Calm down and face reality, Harlow!" Beck shouted after her, his voice echoing in the large room. "You're just throwing a jealous tantrum!"

Harlow stopped at the doorframe. She did not turn around.

She swallowed hard, forcing the nausea down. The last shred of affection she ever held for Beck Chase evaporated into thin air. Her chest felt hollow, but her mind was razor-sharp.

She would not be the submissive, perfect wife anymore. She would make them pay for every single thing they broke.

Harlow stepped out of the library and into the hallway.