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The Secret Genius Ex-Wife's Cold Revenge Novel Cover

The Secret Genius Ex-Wife's Cold Revenge

I spent three years playing the role of the perfect, invisible wife to Dillard Bentley, the billionaire heir of Manhattan. While he graced the tabloids with socialites, I stayed in the shadows of our penthouse, waiting for a man who treated me like a piece of furniture. One rainy night, the facade finally shattered. Dillard came home smelling of another woman’s perfume, and I handed him the divorce papers he never expected. But before the ink could dry, a violent pain ripped through me during a family lunch, and I collapsed in a pool of blood on the pristine marble floor. While I was being rushed to the hospital, Dillard’s mother dismissed my agony as a manipulative trick, and Dillard chose to believe her. He didn't follow the ambulance; he went to a gala to protect his mistress instead. I woke up in a cold emergency room only to be told I had lost the baby I didn't even know I was carrying. Because of the toxic "vitamins" his mother had been force-feeding me, my blood wouldn't clot, and I had to undergo surgery without a single drop of anesthesia. I bit down on a leather strap, feeling every agonizing scrape as they cleared the remains of my child, while my husband laughed at my pain over the phone. "Stop the drama, Erica. Tell her the divorce terms are non-negotiable. I'm busy." He hung up, leaving me to scream in silence. I realized then that the man I had once loved was the same man who let his family poison me. The "vitamins" weren't supplements; they were a death sentence for my unborn child, and he didn't even care enough to show up. Dillard thinks he’s divorcing a penniless nobody, but he’s about to find out that the world-renowned medical genius he’s desperate to recruit is the wife he left to bleed alone. I walked out of that hospital, threw my wedding ring in the trash, and reclaimed my true identity. Dr. N is coming to the global summit, and I’m not there to save the Bentley empire—I’m there to burn it to the ground.
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Chapter 6

The Velvet Lounge was dim, smelling of expensive cigars and old leather.

Dillard sat in a plush booth, staring at his phone. The screen was dark. Gisselle's screaming voice echoed in his head. Lost the baby. Drugged.

It was ridiculous. A fabrication. Erica was healthy. She was just desperate.

Galen Sterling, Gisselle's fiancé and Dillard's friend, sat opposite him. He looked uncomfortable. He checked his own phone.

"Everything okay?" Galen asked.

"Fine," Dillard snapped. "Just Erica making a scene. She sent Gisselle to yell at me."

Galen grimaced. "Gisselle can be... intense. She called me too. Said something about a miscarriage."

Dillard swirled his scotch. "She's lying. She's trying to guilt me into staying."

Harrison Vance leaned in. "Ignore it, Dillard. Focus on the deal. If we don't get Avis Tech on board, the stock takes a hit next quarter."

Right. Avis Tech. And the mysterious Dr. N.

Dillard straightened his tie. "I need that meeting. Dr. N is the key to the new medical division."

The door to the private room opened. Brisa glided in. She wore a silver dress that shimmered like fish scales.

"Dillard," she cooed, sliding next to him. "I feel so much safer now that you're here."

She rested her head on his shoulder. Dillard stiffened. Usually, he welcomed her touch. Tonight, it felt cloying. He kept thinking about the silence in the penthouse. And the scent... Lily of the Valley. It used to remind him of innocence. Now, mixed with the stale cigar smoke, it just smelled artificial.

"Did you catch the stalker?" Brisa asked, running a finger down his arm.

"Security is handling it," Dillard muttered.

Brisa reached for his glass. "Let me have a sip."

Dillard pulled it away. "No. Get your own."

Brisa blinked, hurt flashing in her eyes. She recovered quickly. "You're stressed. Is it about Dr. N? I heard he's coming to the summit. Maybe I can charm him for you?"

Dillard looked at her. "You? Charm a recluse scientist?"

"Why not? Men love me."

Dillard felt a flash of annoyance. "Not everyone is me, Brisa."

He didn't know why he said it. He didn't know why the image of Erica's pale face at lunch was haunting him. He needed to prove she was lying. He needed to prove he wasn't the villain Gisselle said he was.

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