The Scorned Wife's Secret Billionaire Identity

Cedric paced the length of his study, the Persian rug muffling his agitated footsteps. The divorce papers lay on his mahogany desk, the signature staring up at him like an accusation.

Chloie sat on the leather sofa, nursing a brandy. She looked small and fragile, her legs tucked under her.

"She's going to sue, Cedric," Chloie whined, swirling the amber liquid. "She hates me. She's going to make up lies to destroy your reputation."

Cedric stopped. He turned to look at her. "Did you go to the hospital, Chloie?"

It was a direct question. He watched her face closely.

Chloie froze. A micro-expression of panic flitted across her eyes, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by well-practiced tears.

"I told you!" she sobbed. "I was at the gala! Why do you believe her over me? I'm the one who has stood by you!"

Cedric sighed, rubbing his temples. The headache that had started at the club was now a pounding rhythm behind his eyes. He wanted to believe her. It was easier to believe Evangeline was crazy than to believe the woman he was about to marry was a monster.

There was a knock at the door. Chloie's personal assistant entered, followed by the nurse from St. Jude's. The nurse looked terrified, clutching her purse, clearly out of place in the opulent room.

"Cedric, darling," Chloie said, her voice recovering with startling speed. "I asked Nurse Jenkins to come. She was feeling so guilty about the confusion at the hospital. I thought it best you hear it from her directly."

The nurse glanced at Chloie. Chloie gave her a small, encouraging smile, but her eyes were cold as ice. The diamond necklace she wore, a recent gift from Cedric, flashed under the lamplight. It was a silent, glittering reminder of who held the power.

"Nurse Jenkins," Cedric said, his voice stern. "I need the truth. Did Ms. Serrano visit Nana Watson yesterday?"

The nurse swallowed hard. She looked at the floor. "No, sir. Mrs. Watson died of natural causes. There were no visitors."

Cedric exhaled, a massive weight lifting from his shoulders. Relief washed over him. Evangeline was paranoid. It was just grief.

"Get Evangeline here," Cedric ordered his assistant, who was hovering by the door. "We need to settle this face to face. Before she goes to the press with these delusions."

Evangeline received the text summons an hour later. Come to the estate. We settle this tonight.

She grabbed the Ziploc bag with the cup and her phone with the recording.

"Time to end this," she muttered.

The drive to Long Island was a journey through ghosts. Every mile brought her closer to the house where she had been lonely for three years.

When she walked into the study, the tableau was set. Cedric behind the desk. Chloie on the sofa. The nurse standing in the corner.

"You wanted proof?" Evangeline didn't wait for a greeting. She walked straight to the desk and tossed the Ziploc bag onto the polished wood. The cup clattered inside the plastic.

"Her lipstick," Evangeline declared. "On a cup in Nana's house. Petal Pink."

Chloie paled. She stared at the bag. "I... I sent a gift basket! Maybe the maid used a cup from it? Or maybe you put lipstick on it yourself!"

"And this?" Evangeline held up her phone and pressed play.

Chloie's voice filled the room. "It would be a shame if she lost everything..."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Cedric's face hardened. He looked from the phone to Chloie. "You said you weren't there. You said you didn't talk to her."

"It's fake!" Chloie screamed, jumping up. She was panicking now. "It's AI! Anyone can fake a voice these days! She's framing me!"

"AI?" Cedric looked skeptical. The doubt was creeping back in.

"She's crazy, Cedric! Look at her!" Chloie pointed at Evangeline. "She's desperate!"

The nurse started to sob in the corner. "I... I..."

Chloie shot the nurse a glare of pure venom. "Shut up!"

Evangeline stepped forward. "Tell him the truth!" she commanded the nurse.

The tension in the room snapped. Chloie, seeing Cedric's wavering gaze, made a desperate move. She lunged towards the desk, grabbing a heavy crystal vase.

"She's attacking me!" Chloie shrieked.

But instead of throwing it, Chloie spun around and "tripped," letting the vase smash onto the floor, sending shards of glass exploding across the carpet. She threw herself towards the jagged mess.