The Genius Heiress' Ruthless Divorce Revenge
Harlow had endured three years of a loveless marriage, funding her husband Beck's life and secretly writing the AI code that saved his failing company.
But when she walked into her family's private memorial library, she found Beck having sex with his mistress, Fallon, right on top of her late father's antique desk.
Instead of showing guilt, Beck proudly announced that Fallon had given him a son and heir.
He demanded Harlow accept the bastard child and stay married just to maintain his perfect public image.
To make matters worse, Fallon was actually a corporate spy from a rival company, actively stealing Harlow's family legacy while Beck willingly handed over the company secrets.
When Harlow demanded an immediate divorce, Beck laughed in her face.
"I will never sign the divorce papers! I will drag this out in court until you bleed dry!"
Looking at her father's crushed pocket watch and the two parasites desecrating her sacred home, Harlow's shock turned into a freezing, absolute clarity.
How could she have spent three years supporting a selfish hypocrite who would so ruthlessly destroy her parents' legacy?
Harlow calmly packed her bags, threw his bespoke suits in the trash, and walked out the door.
She went straight to Fitzgerald Monroe, the most ruthless billionaire corporate lawyer in New York, ready to use her secret identity to make Beck lose everything.
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Chapter 2
Her heels sinking into the thick carpet of the hallway. She didn't stop until she reached the master bedroom.
She stepped inside and slammed the door shut. She turned the lock on the doorknob until it clicked.
Harlow marched straight into the en-suite bathroom. She turned the silver faucet all the way to the cold side. The freezing water rushed out. She cupped her hands and splashed the icy water onto her face, over and over again.
The freezing temperature shocked her system. It stopped the trembling in her hands.
She grabbed a towel and patted her face dry. Harlow looked up at the large vanity mirror. Her eyes were slightly red, but her gaze was hard as steel. Three years of a charity-case marriage. She had funded his life, and this was her return on investment.
A loud rattle came from the bedroom door.
Then came the sharp click of a key turning in the lock. Beck had used the master bedroom spare key.
Beck pushed the door open and strolled into the bedroom. He walked right past the bathroom and stopped in front of the full-length mirror. He casually began to re-tie his silk necktie, acting as if the disgusting scene in the library had never happened.
"Get yourself ready," Beck commanded, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror. "We have the Wall Street Chamber of Commerce gala tonight. Wear the black dress."
Harlow slowly lowered the towel. Her stomach twisted.
"How do you have the face to ask me that?" Harlow asked, stepping out of the bathroom.
Beck frowned. He turned around, adopting a high-and-mighty, lecturing posture.
"Men play around, Harlow. It's normal in our circle," Beck said smoothly. "It's just business and stress relief."
He adjusted his cuffs. "Kade is a boy. He needs a proper title. But I am a generous man. You can keep the title of Mrs. Chase. You still get to be my wife in public."
Harlow stared at him, her jaw tight.
"Let's be honest," Beck sneered, looking her up and down. "Besides the empty Holman last name, you have zero commercial value. You are useless in the business world."
He puffed out his chest. "Holman Industries is surviving because of my AI project. I am the genius holding your family's company together."
A sharp, humorless laugh escaped Harlow's lips.
Genius? The AI core architecture he was so proud of was written by her. She was the anonymous developer known as "King." She had spoon-fed him the code to save his failing department.
Harlow didn't waste another breath on his delusions. She turned sharply and walked into the massive walk-in closet.
She reached up to the highest shelf and grabbed a heavy-duty, black plastic trash bag. She snapped it open with a loud crack.
Beck followed her into the closet. He crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes. "Are you throwing another princess tantrum?"
Harlow didn't look at him. She marched over to his side of the closet. She grabbed five of his custom-tailored Italian suits by the hangers. With one violent yank, she ripped them off the rack.
She shoved the expensive wool and silk into the black trash bag.
Beck's face turned a furious shade of purple. "Those are my bespoke suits! What the hell are you doing?"
He lunged forward, reaching out to grab the bag.
Harlow spun around. She planted both hands flat against Beck's chest and shoved him with all her might.
The sudden force caught Beck off guard. He stumbled backward, his expensive leather shoes slipping on the polished wood floor. He took two clumsy steps back.
Harlow lifted the heavy trash bag and threw it directly at his feet. It landed with a heavy, pathetic thud.
She stared into his eyes, her voice dead and cold.
"I want a divorce. Right now."
Beck froze. Then, a loud, mocking laugh burst from his chest. He looked at her like she was a stupid child.
He took a step closer, towering over her. "You? Divorce me? You're a spoiled trophy wife. Without me, you wouldn't even know how to pay your own credit card bills."
Harlow kept her face completely blank. She walked past him to the hidden wall safe. She punched in the code, opened the heavy steel door, and pulled out her passport, her ID, and a small velvet box containing her mother's wedding ring.
She pulled a silver carry-on suitcase from the lower shelf. She tossed the items inside and zipped it shut with a sharp, final sound.
Beck watched her pack. A flicker of genuine panic crossed his eyes, but his massive ego quickly buried it.
"You're going to regret this, Harlow," Beck threatened, pointing a finger at her. "You'll be begging to come back."
Harlow grabbed the handle of the suitcase. The wheels dug deep into the expensive plush carpet as she pulled it forward.
She stopped inches from Beck's face. She was shorter, but her aura completely suffocated him.
Her lips curled into a sneer. "Take your true love and your bastard son, and get the hell out of my house."
Beck's mouth opened, but no words came out. The sheer, freezing intensity radiating from her body paralyzed his vocal cords.
Harlow slammed her shoulder into his chest, pushing him out of the way.
She dragged her suitcase out of the closet and headed straight for the bedroom door, leaving Beck standing alone among the garbage.
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7.6
After an exhausting fourteen-hour flight, Katia returned to her Upper East Side penthouse, expecting the quiet comfort of the life she had built.
Instead, she found a pair of familiar red stilettos in the foyer and her fiancé, Caleb, tangled in their bedsheets with his twenty-two-year-old assistant.
She didn't scream or cry. She simply took off her three-carat engagement ring, threw it at his bare chest, and demanded he buy out her half of the penthouse by Friday.
Seeking to numb the sickening disgust, she got blackout drunk and crashed at a luxury hotel, accidentally stumbling into the wrong suite.
Thinking the imposing man inside was a high-end escort hired by her friend, she threw him over her shoulder and spent a wild night with him.
The next morning, she left five thousand dollars on his nightstand with a lipstick-stained note.
"Good Job."
For six years, she had funded Caleb's dreams and built his startup from the ground up, only to be treated like a lifeless ATM.
With ruthless precision, she spent the next two months systematically bankrupting his company, cutting off his venture capital, and erasing his life's work.
She felt no heartbreak, only a cold, calculating need to cleanse herself of his betrayal.
But when Katia finally returned to corporate headquarters to co-lead a massive merger, she literally crashed into the new Vice President.
Strong arms caught her waist, and the sharp scent of cedarwood and whiskey hit her like a freight train.
"You came back," Jackson whispered, his eyes burning as he stared at the woman who had treated him like a cheap gigolo.
9.3
My father ordered me to marry into the cursed Vaughn family.
Their heirs were rumored to die young from a mysterious genetic agony. My sister Kayden laughed, saying she wasn't going to waste her youth planning a funeral. So, I became the sacrificial lamb.
When I refused, my father slammed his hand on the table and threatened to throw my dead mother's ashes into the city dump.
"You are a struggling actress with no money and no power. You have no choice," he told me coldly.
To make matters worse, my own agent drugged my drink at a business dinner, trying to sell my body to a sleazy investor just to secure project funding.
I was completely cornered, suffocating under the weight of their cruelty. I couldn't understand how my own flesh and blood could be so vicious, treating me like a worthless pawn to be traded and discarded.
But none of them knew that while escaping the drug-laced dinner, I crashed directly into the terrifying Vaughn heir, Algot.
When his glowing crimson eyes locked onto me during a violent episode of his cursed pain, we discovered an impossible truth: my physical touch was the only cure for his agony.
Looking at the dark bruises he accidentally left on my neck, I chose not to run. Instead, I pulled out the private business card he gave me and dialed his number.
"You need me," I whispered to the dangerous billionaire. "And I am going to use you to destroy them all."
9.1
What would a woman do if one day she is waiting for her husband to tell him the news of her pregnancy but he comes home with another woman who is pregnant with his child?
........
Ariadne had a perfect life until her mother died in a car accident and her father remarried, bringing a stepmother and stepsister into her life. Once adored by all, Ariadne became an eyesore to everyone, including her father. Her stepmother and stepsister took everything from her.
However, she lost it when their eyes fell on Xander, the sole heir of the richest family in the country and her childhood love. When rumors of Crystal, her step sister and Xander's dating spread, Ariadne used her everything to force Xander into marrying her.
Despite pouring her heart and soul into the marriage Ariadne failed to make Xander reciprocate her feelings. Their loveless marriage came to an end when Crystal returned in their lives.
With a broken heart, Ariadne left the city with a secret and rebuild her life.
Five years later, she returned as a successful interior designer to design her ex-husband's new mansion. But this time, what she saw in Xander's eyes for herself was not hatred. It was something else.
She came face to face with the same people who had wronged her in the past. They still held resentment towards her. But this time Ariadne vowed to strike back at her bullies.
Many secrets were revealed in the process that made Xander regret his past actions. He determined to win Ariadne back.
BUT Will Ariadne be able to forget their past and get back together with Xander or She will choose someone else?
7.1
I waited a year for my mate, Alpha Justin, to return from the border war. While he was gone, I used my ten-million-dollar dowry to keep his crumbling pack afloat and buy life-saving elixirs for his mother.
But when he finally walked through the door, he reeked of another female's scent.
He brought back Gamma Brenna and a Royal Decree, coldly announcing she would be his "Co-Luna."
His family, who survived entirely on my wealth, immediately turned on me. They mocked me for being a wolfless orphan since my father and brothers were slaughtered defending the kingdom.
"You're just a fragile woman who belongs hidden away," Justin told me.
They demanded I accept this humiliation, step aside for his new warrior mate, and continue funding their luxurious lifestyle. Justin even arrogantly offered to sleep with me just once to give me a pup as a "consolation prize," declaring his heart and body belonged entirely to Brenna.
They thought my ruined pack meant I had no backing. They thought I was a pathetic victim who would cling to their scraps and accept a polluted mate-bond just to avoid being cast out into the woods as a Rogue.
They had no idea I had already visited the Alpha King.
I wasn't going to cry, and I certainly wasn't going to share my mate. I packed up every last cent of my ten million dollars, secured a Royal Severance Decree, and prepared to watch their arrogant pack starve to death.
7.2
Elmore Thomas rushed into the emergency room, clutching his feverish seven-year-old son, Buddy, tightly to his chest.
When the privacy curtain was pulled back, the air in Elmore's lungs vanished. The attending physician standing under the harsh lights was his wife, Kendal—the woman everyone believed had burned to death eight years ago.
But there was no tearful reunion. Kendal looked at him, and her eyes froze into impenetrable ice. She treated him like a biohazard, strictly referring to him as the family member.
Worse, she didn't recognize Buddy. She comforted their crying son with the same gentle warmth she used to reserve for Elmore, completely unaware she was soothing the baby she thought had died.
Days later, Elmore watched from the shadows as she picked up another boy outside a prep school, her left hand flashing a massive diamond engagement ring.
When his butler accidentally recognized her, Kendal shielded her new stepson with pure disgust in her eyes.
"Tell that psychopath to sign the divorce papers immediately. I have a new family now."
The words 'new family' echoed in Elmore's skull, tearing him apart. For eight years, he had lived in a hell of guilt and madness, raising their son in the shadow of her ghost. How could she just erase their past? How could she give her tender smiles to a stranger and look at him with absolute revulsion?
Standing in a luxury ballroom, Elmore squeezed his hand until his crystal champagne flute shattered, thick blood dripping onto the rug. The murderous obsession in his dark eyes returned as he called his lawyer.
"Freeze her divorce application. Use every dirty trick in the book. She isn't leaving."
7.1
I worked eighty-hour weeks on Wall Street just to keep my sick brother alive, enduring endless humiliation from the wealthy family that adopted us.
But when I went to surprise my boyfriend of three years, I found him kissing my spoiled adoptive sister, Tatum.
They were celebrating their engagement to merge their powerful families.
To keep me quiet, my adoptive mother, Eleanor, threatened to freeze my brother's medical trust fund unless I attended the party to play the supportive sister.
Instead, I discovered Eleanor had been embezzling from my brother's life-saving fund to cover her own bad investments.
The nightmare worsened when a drunken Ryder cornered me in my apartment stairwell.
"Once I marry Tatum, Eleanor is giving me control of Liam's trust fund to buy out my father's board members."
He planned to drain my brother's medical money, dump Tatum, and keep me as his mistress.
For a decade, I suffered their abuse hoping for a shred of decency, only to realize they were plotting to leave my brother to die on the streets for corporate greed.
Calling the police wouldn't stop these billionaires. I needed absolute power.
Remembering the dark, predatory gaze of Jaren Jarvis—the ruthless billionaire who had watched me fight back at the party—I canceled my call to 911.
If they wanted to destroy my only family, I was going to use the devil himself to crush theirs.