
The Jilted Wife's Spectacular Billionaire Return
Eleonora held the positive pregnancy test, trembling with fragile hope as she told her husband they were having a baby.
Instead of embracing her, Butler slapped the plastic stick away, his eyes cold and dead.
"You cheating whore," he spat, throwing a stack of papers at her face.
He didn't listen to her desperate pleas. He ordered his bodyguards to drag her out of their penthouse and lock her in a private hospital room.
Trapped and terrified, Eleonora watched in horror as Butler's mistress walked in with a wicked smile.
The mistress shoved a medical consent form, signed with Butler's unmistakable handwriting, right in front of Eleonora's face.
"This isn't just an abortion," the mistress sneered. "It's a full hysterectomy. You'll never have a child again."
Eleonora's heart shattered into pieces. She couldn't understand how the man she loved could be so cruel, willing to kill their unborn baby and mutilate her body over a fabricated lie.
Driven by pure maternal terror, she smeared her blood on the forged papers, set the hospital room on fire, and let the world believe she had burned to ashes.
Five years later, Eleonora returned to New York with her young son.
She was no longer the weak, broken girl who begged for mercy.
Walking into the Holloway Group boardroom in a flawless Dior suit, she slammed a legal document onto Butler's desk.
She was still his legal wife, and she was here to dismantle his empire piece by piece.
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Chapter 6
A few days later.
Eleonora sat on a white leather sofa in the reception room of Manhattan's most elite law firm. She crossed her legs. Her black Dior skirt suit fit her perfectly.
She sipped a cup of black coffee. She was here to finalize the purchase of the penthouse. She needed a permanent, secure home for Noah.
The heavy glass door opened. A senior partner walked in. He held a thick manila folder. He looked extremely uncomfortable. He pushed his glasses up his nose.
Eleonora set her coffee cup down. Her eyes narrowed.
"Is there a problem with the funds?" she asked. Her voice was sharp.
"No, Ms. Farrell. The funds cleared instantly," the lawyer said. He sat down across from her and placed the folder on the glass table. "The issue is with your background check."
He opened the folder and slid a federal document toward her.
"According to the federal database, your marital status is still listed as 'Married'."
Eleonora froze. Her heart skipped a beat.
She leaned forward and looked at the paper. There, under the spouse section, was the name: Butler Holloway.
"That's impossible," Eleonora said. Her voice was tight. "I signed divorce papers five years ago. And... I was declared legally dead."
The lawyer shook his head. "It's strange. A death certificate was issued by the hospital, but it was flagged and buried by a federal override command almost immediately. It never reached the state registry. As for the divorce papers, they vanished. Legally, you are still the wife of Butler Holloway."
A loud ringing started in Eleonora's ears.
Butler had buried the paperwork. He had used his power to erase the fire, erase the death, and keep the marriage intact.
Her hands curled into fists on her lap. Her nails bit into her palms. Five years of hiding. Five years of terror. And she was still chained to him.
She took a deep breath. She forced the anger down. Her mind shifted into a cold, calculating gear.
"Pull up the prenuptial agreement," Eleonora commanded.
The lawyer blinked. "Excuse me?"
"The prenup I signed five years ago. Pull it up. Now."
The lawyer scrambled to his laptop. He typed rapidly. A minute later, he printed a document and handed it to her.
Eleonora scanned the pages. Her eyes stopped on Section 4, Clause B.
If the marriage remains intact for a period exceeding thirty-six (36) months, the wife shall automatically be vested with five percent (5%) of the voting shares of the Holloway Group.
A slow, dangerous smile spread across Eleonora's face.
Butler wanted to keep her trapped in a ghost marriage? Fine. She would use the chains to strangle him.
"Draft a legal demand for the immediate transfer of those shares," Eleonora said. She stood up. "Stamp it with your firm's official seal. I'll wait."
Twenty minutes later, Eleonora walked out of the law firm. She held a crisp white envelope in her hand.
She hailed a yellow taxi. "Holloway Group Headquarters," she told the driver.
On the top floor of the Holloway building, the atmosphere in the boardroom was suffocating.
Butler sat at the head of the long oval table. Twelve senior executives sat around him, sweating in their expensive suits. A holographic projection of the quarterly financials hovered in the center of the table.
"The margins are unacceptable," Butler said. His voice was quiet, but it cut through the room like a knife.
Before anyone could answer, the heavy mahogany double doors of the boardroom burst open.
The heavy wood slammed against the walls with a deafening crash.
The executives jumped. The presentation stopped. Everyone turned to look at the door.
Eleonora stood in the doorway. Her red lipstick was flawless. Her black Dior suit screamed power.
Jesse Meyer rushed up behind her, looking panicked. "Sir, I tried to stop her, but her security clearance is still active in the system-"
Eleonora didn't even look at Jesse. She stepped into the room. Her high heels clicked loudly against the hardwood floor.
Butler slowly raised his head.
When his eyes locked onto her, his entire body went rigid. The pen in his hand slipped and clattered onto the table. His pupils expanded.
Eleonora ignored the shocked stares of the executives. She walked straight down the length of the table. She didn't stop until she was standing directly in front of Butler.
She looked down at him. Her eyes were full of arrogant defiance.
She raised her hand and slammed the legal document down on the table right in front of his face.
Smack.
The room was dead silent.
"Good morning, gentlemen," Eleonora said. Her voice was clear and rang through the massive room.
She kept her eyes locked on Butler.
"I am Eleonora Holloway. Butler's legal wife. And as of today, I am the owner of five percent of this company. I believe I have a seat at this table."
Several executives gasped out loud. One man dropped his tablet. They all recognized the face of the woman who supposedly burned to death five years ago.
Butler stared at the woman standing over him. His chest rose and fell in heavy, jagged breaths. His hands, hidden under the table, curled into tight fists. The veins on the back of his hands bulged.
A low, dark chuckle rumbled in his chest.
He placed his hands flat on the table and slowly stood up. His massive frame cast a dark shadow over Eleonora.
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8.7
I woke up from a coma in the hospital, universally condemned as the vicious daughter who pushed the beloved fake heiress, Georgina, down the stairs.
My ruthless billionaire brother, Angelo, stood over my bed with cold eyes, ready to destroy me for hurting his precious sister.
But as I looked at him, a terrifying prophecy from my coma flooded my brain. Our entire family was doomed.
In the original timeline, Georgina would team up with corporate rivals to bankrupt the company, frame Angelo, and send him to federal prison, while our parents would abandon me to die miserably.
Lying there, I didn't dare speak. I just desperately cursed my idiot brother in my head.
"This stupid brother is still yelling at me for that fake heiress. He doesn't even know he's going to be framed and sent to prison next month!"
I just wanted to stay quiet, let them ruin themselves, and run away from this toxic family.
But strangely, Angelo didn't strangle me. Instead, his attitude took a shocking turn.
He abruptly fired the driver plotting to kill him, destroyed the abusive fiancé of a family ally, and publicly humiliated Georgina at a high-society gala.
He even shielded me from our abusive parents, declaring to the world that I was the only sister he would ever protect.
I was completely terrified and confused. Why was the tyrant brother suddenly acting like a protective beast?
It wasn't until he flawlessly crushed a massive corporate attack using the exact financial secrets I had just complained about in my mind that a horrifying realization hit me.
He could hear my inner thoughts!

8.6
Genevieve was heavily pregnant, holding the legal papers that would transfer her massive family trust fund to her loving husband, Clinton.
But as she approached his study, she heard a familiar giggle. Through the cracked door, she saw her cousin Carolynn sitting on his desk, her skirt hiked up, while Clinton smirked and poured bourbon.
"Once she signs those papers, we don't need her anymore," Clinton laughed coldly. "The kidnapping is staged for tomorrow. She and the brat disappear permanently."
Genevieve gasped, and he spotted her. When she frantically tried to run, her trusted housekeeper blocked the stairs. Clinton dragged her back, beat her mercilessly, and locked her in a freezing, underground cellar.
Denied any medical help, she endured agonizing hours of labor alone in the dark, only to deliver a stillborn child. Clinton then walked in, ruthlessly tossed her dead baby's tiny body into a pile of dirty rags, and brutally strangled her.
As her lungs burned and the world faded to black, her heart shattered into a million jagged pieces. She had given him everything. How could they be so monstrous as to murder her and her innocent child just for money?
Opening her eyes again, the freezing cellar was gone.
She was standing in an emerald silk gown at an elite charity gala—the exact night their original kidnapping plot began, a month before she even announced her pregnancy.
This time, the naive socialite was dead, and she was going to make them pay in blood.

7.9
In my past life, I was the naive surrogate who fell desperately in love with Karson King, an untouchable Wall Street billionaire.
I thought my blind devotion would earn me a place in his family. Instead, his cruel mother forced me to sign away my parental rights to my three-year-old daughter.
I was locked in a dark, freezing basement. I watched helplessly as his arrogant relatives tormented my child, pushing her down a flight of marble stairs and shattering her tiny arm.
When we finally died in a horrific car crash, my face covered in blood amidst the shattered glass, Karson didn't shed a single tear. To him, my death was just the convenient erasure of a cheap mistake.
I sacrificed my dignity for his approval, but they treated us worse than stray dogs. Why did my innocent daughter have to pay the ultimate price for their ruthless arrogance?
Opening my eyes again, the harsh glare of a massive crystal chandelier pierced my vision. I was back in the grand foyer of the King estate, exactly five years ago.
"Sign it. You are nothing but a gold digger."
My soon-to-be mother-in-law slammed the thick legal contract onto the marble table, demanding I give up my daughter.
This time, the paralyzing fear evaporated, replaced by absolute, icy clarity.
I didn't cower. I picked up the pen, looked right at the billionaire who despised me, and prepared to manipulate his entire empire.

9.0
Grace's engagement to Dillan Hayes was nothing but a cold business transaction to secure funding for her family's company.
But when Dillan violently shoved her into a marble bar over his ex-girlfriend, leaving her bleeding, Grace didn't hesitate.
She called 911, had her fiancé arrested on the spot, and broke off the engagement.
Returning to the Albert estate, she expected chaos, but not absolute betrayal.
Her family didn't care that she had just been physically assaulted.
They were in a sheer panic because her cousin Ashly had just fled the country, abandoning a terrifying arranged marriage.
The groom was Hudson Turner, a man known across Manhattan as a disgraced, violent psychopath, paralyzed from the waist down in a severe crash.
To save themselves from the Turner family's wrath and financial ruin, Grace's aunt and father ordered her to take Ashly's place.
"You eat from this family, you live in this house! It is time you paid us back!"
Her father even threatened to freeze her bank accounts and faked a heart attack to force her compliance.
For three years, Grace had single-handedly kept the family business afloat while they squandered the profits.
Now, they were throwing her to a monster without a second thought, expecting her to rot as a crippled man's miserable nursemaid.
But they picked the wrong sacrifice.
Grace ruthlessly extorted a legal severance from her family, taking her shares and cutting all ties forever.
She walked straight into Hudson Turner's private gallery to propose a mutually beneficial, cutthroat business marriage.
However, when the prenuptial was signed, the "paralyzed" billionaire placed his hands on his wheelchair.
Slowly, deliberately, Hudson stood up to his full, imposing height of six-foot-three.
"The wheelchair is a necessary illusion for my enemies," Hudson stated calmly. "But it will never be an illusion between you and me."

8.4
In her past life, Serena Vale was the perfect daughter and sister. She sacrificed everything, her dreams, her university admission, and even her inheritance, so her stepsister could live the life she deserved.
But kindness was repaid with betrayal.
At twenty-eight, just hours after her billionaire fiancé finally proposed, Serena was poisoned by the very sister she had spent her life protecting.
When she opens her eyes again, Serena is eighteen, back to the day before she is supposed to give up her university admission to her stepsister.
This time, she refuses.
She keeps her future.
She takes back her inheritance.
And the cold billionaire her sister desperately wanted?
Serena decides to claim him first.
Not because she loves him but because she knows that in ten years, Adrian Kingsley will become one of the richest men in the world.
But things start changing.
The supposedly distant and emotionless billionaire is watching her closely... protecting her... and looking at her as if she belongs to him.
And sometimes, when their eyes meet, Serena wonders
Does he remember their past life too?
This time, Serena isn't the naive girl who died with regrets.
This time, she's here for revenge

9.3
Penelope's wedding day should have been perfect-until she found her best friend in her fiancé's bed.
Running from the ruins of her future, she fell into one night with a stranger whose touch felt like safety. No names. No future. Just escape.
Until two pink lines changed everything.
Years later, Penelope returns with twins, a stronger heart, and no plans to fall in love again. But fate traps her in close quarters with a ruthless billionaire... who happens to be the man from that unforgettable night. He doesn't know she's the bride who disappeared. He doesn't know the children are his.
Old enemies want revenge. Old secrets refuse to stay buried.
And the man who swore he would never love... kneels.