The Unwanted Ex-Wife Is A Genius Hacker
Five years ago, I was married to New York's most powerful billionaire.
Then, a massive cheating scandal broke out overnight. Photos of me entering a hotel room with another man were plastered across every screen in the city.
My husband, Godfrey, didn't even give me a chance to explain. He looked at me with pure disgust and threw a divorce agreement right in my face.
"Sign it and get out."
My own family publicly disowned me to save their reputation. I was branded a cheap cheat, thrown out into the freezing winter with absolutely nothing.
What Godfrey didn't know was that I had been heavily drugged and framed by my own cousin, Kendal, just so she could take my place by his side.
Even worse, his mother had used the chaotic scandal as a smokescreen to try and steal my dead mother's priceless AI patent.
They thought they had completely destroyed me, expecting me to rot in the gutters forever.
Now, five years later, I am back.
Tonight is Kendal and Godfrey's grand engagement gala at the Waldorf Astoria.
Standing in the shadows of the second-floor balcony, I look down at the cheering crowd and press a single button on my heavily encrypted phone.
The massive screens in the ballroom go black, preparing to broadcast the raw security footage of Kendal locking me in that room.
The revenge game has officially begun.
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Chapter 2
The black Maybach tore through the congested streets of Manhattan.
The driver kept his eyes glued to the road, too terrified by the suffocating pressure radiating from the backseat to even breathe loudly.
Godfrey leaned his head against the leather headrest and squeezed his eyes shut. The freezing air of the Manhattan Family Court from five years ago seemed to fill the car, chilling his blood.
He heard the judge's gavel slam down. He saw Alyse standing at the defendant's table, her spine perfectly straight. There was no guilt in her eyes. Not a single ounce of regret.
Her lawyer had projected the photos onto the screen-Alyse walking into a hotel with an unidentified man.
Godfrey remembered the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. He remembered staring at her with bloodshot eyes, demanding to know why.
Alyse had looked at him with a calmness that made him want to rip the room apart. She told him she was sick of the fake, suffocating life of a billionaire's wife.
She had voluntarily given up hundreds of millions of dollars in alimony from the Hammond family, asking only for an immediate termination of the marriage. Her absolute ruthlessness had felt like a physical slap across his face.
The neon lights of the city flashed across Godfrey's rigid jawline, dragging him out of the nightmare and back into the speeding car.
His thumb unconsciously rubbed against his left cufflink. It was a habit he couldn't break. The silver cufflink was the last birthday gift Alyse had ever given him. He had never taken them off.
His phone vibrated again. It was Zane.
"She just paid the bill," Zane said, his words rushing out. "She's leaving."
Godfrey leaned forward. "Run the yellow," he ordered the driver.
The Maybach's engine roared, the sound mirroring the violent storm tearing through Godfrey's chest.
"Wait," Zane added, his voice dropping lower as he peered around the frosted glass. "I just saw her driver loading a garment bag into her SUV. It had the official crest of the Lee family's charity gala printed right on the front. And I overheard her tell the bodyguard to head straight to the Waldorf Astoria."
Godfrey's eyebrows snapped together.
The Waldorf Astoria was entirely booked tonight by the Lee family. It was the night of the matriarch Beatrice's annual charity gala.
His stomach tightened. Alyse showing up in New York tonight, at that specific hotel, was not a coincidence.
The ruthless business instincts that made him a billionaire snapped awake.
"Keep eyes on her," Godfrey commanded. He tapped the glass partition. "Change route. Head straight to the Waldorf."
He hung up the phone and stared down at the screen. He opened the photo Zane had sent. He zoomed in on the little blonde girl's face.
He stared at the shape of her nose, the curve of her eyes, desperately searching for traces of the man named Guthrie. The venom of jealousy chewed away at his insides, burning a hole in his stomach.
A few blocks away, Alyse held Nora's hand as they walked out of the restaurant. The freezing wind whipped the hem of her coat. She wrapped Nora tightly in her arms.
A sleek, unmarked black SUV pulled up to the curb. The driver, a heavily built bodyguard, stepped out and opened the rear door.
Alyse lifted Nora into the car seat. Before she climbed in, she threw a glance over her shoulder toward the booth where Zane had been hiding. A faint look of mockery flashed in her eyes.
She slid into the car, and it merged seamlessly into the traffic.
Alyse pulled a heavily encrypted phone from her bag. Before opening the schematics, she quickly tapped out a message to Guthrie, attaching a live GPS tracking link. 'Godfrey's hound spotted me. Might get messy later. Keep an eye on my location and stay on standby,' she typed, hitting send before switching apps. The screen illuminated her face, displaying the detailed security schematics of the Lee family's gala.
Her index finger tapped rhythmically against the edge of the phone. She typed a rapid string of code, bypassing the firewall and temporarily blinding the security cameras in a specific sector of the hotel's underground garage.
Nora hugged her stuffed rabbit, looking around the dark car.
"Mommy, are we going to a big party?"
Alyse looked at her daughter's innocent eyes through the rearview mirror. Her voice was incredibly soft.
"No, sweetie. We aren't going to a party. We're going on a hunt."
At a busy intersection, the black Maybach and the SUV passed each other.
In that split second, through the tinted glass, Godfrey caught the faint outline of a familiar profile.
He whipped his head around, his heart slamming violently against his ribs. But a massive city bus pulled forward, completely blocking his line of sight.
His lungs burned. He pounded his fist against the door panel.
"Drive faster!" Godfrey barked.
He had to intercept her before she walked into that ballroom. He had to grab her by the shoulders and demand the truth.
The grand architecture of the Waldorf Astoria finally loomed in the night sky. The entrance was swarming with paparazzi and New York's elite.
The driver expertly navigated the Maybach into the VIP lane, bypassing the chaos and stopping smoothly at the side entrance.
Godfrey shoved the door open. The freezing wind hit his face, cooling the feverish heat in his brain, but the dark obsession in his eyes only grew stronger.
He adjusted his suit jacket. His jaw was locked tight as he walked toward the heavy, ornate doors. He was about to rip open a five-year-old scandal.
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7.6
Kaylee's family was drowning in debt, and her stepmother locked her inside a freezing bedroom.
To save their bankrupt company, they decided to sell her off to a sixty-five-year-old man with a disgusting reputation.
They cut off her allowance and confiscated the only precious keepsake her dead mother had ever left her.
"Put on the engagement dress, or I will smash your mother's crystal box into a million pieces."
Terrified of the old man, Kaylee risked her life by jumping out of the second-story window into a violent storm.
She hit the muddy ground hard, twisting her ankle and tearing her skin on rusted iron gates as she escaped into the pitch-black night.
Dragging her bleeding bare feet across the cold sand, her lungs felt like they were filled with broken glass.
She didn't understand why she had to be the sacrifice for their endless greed, or how they could be so cruel as to hold her dead mother's memory hostage.
She had absolutely nowhere to go, and the old man's cars were already pulling into the estate to claim her.
Cornered by the blinding headlights of a motorcade on the beach, she threw herself at the feet of Ernest Blackwell, the most ruthless billionaire in New York.
"Marry me! You need a wife, and I need a husband right now!"
To buy her freedom and crush the family that sold her, she chose to sign a twenty-million-dollar fake marriage contract with the devil himself.
9.8
Adeline's stepmother had secretly drugged her for years, turning a child genius into a drooling, mentally disabled laughingstock just so her stepsister could steal her life.
But when her greedy father sold her off to Griffin Herring—a violent, untouchable billionaire psychopath—to save his company, things took a deadly turn.
Before the wedding, Griffin attacked her in a dark alley, nearly snapping her neck before stealing her grandfather's silver necklace.
That necklace held a micro-drive with her family's deepest secrets, and without it, she had nothing.
Back at the estate, her situation only worsened. Her stepsister Damaris paraded around in the Herring family's diamond engagement gifts, trying to force-feed Adeline wet dog food on an Instagram live stream.
When Adeline's calculated "clumsiness" ruined the video, her furious father locked her in a damp, rusted basement.
"Give her to the psycho," her stepmother hissed through the door. "Let him lock her away forever."
Listening from the shadows, Adeline's fists clenched until her palms bled.
Her supposed mental fog wasn't a tragedy—it was a calculated assassination of her mind. They had destroyed her childhood and were now throwing her to a monster just to keep the billions.
The dull, empty look in Adeline's eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a razor-sharp, chilling clarity.
She pulled a thin surgical needle from her messy bun and picked the heavy iron padlock in ten seconds. It was time to break into the billionaire's penthouse, take back her necklace, and tear them all apart.
8.3
Alena landed at JFK, eager to call her fiancé of three years.
But a sudden message from her best friend shattered her world: a high-resolution photo of Darrin passionately kissing another woman. The woman was Katrina, her older sister.
Alena rushed to the grand ballroom and confronted them in front of New York's elite. Instead of an apology, her own mother slapped her across the face.
"You jealous, spiteful girl. Trying to ruin your sister's happiness because you can't handle your own failures."
Darrin coldly wrapped a protective arm around Katrina. The nightmare worsened when they ambushed Alena at her apartment, demanding she sign an NDA to cover up the affair and save their family's failing business. If she refused, her father threatened to tell her frail grandfather the truth, knowing the shock would trigger a fatal heart attack.
Alena was suffocated by the sheer magnitude of the betrayal. Her family was weaponizing the only person who truly loved her, treating her like a disposable pawn to protect the sister who stole her life. How could her own flesh and blood be so sickeningly cruel?
Cornered and entirely out of options, Alena pulled a matte-black business card from her pocket.
It belonged to Andrew Spencer, the ruthless billionaire who had rescued her from the freezing rain, and the apex predator Darrin feared most. He had offered her a transactional marriage. If her family wanted to destroy her, she would become their worst nightmare. She picked up her phone and dialed his number.
9.6
Antoinette stood on the manicured church lawn, the blinding summer sun stabbing her eyes. The funeral service for her parents had just ended.
A hand wrapped around her trembling shoulder, carrying the sharp, cloying scent of Fabian Cash's cologne. It was the exact same cologne her fiancé wore the night he locked her in a burning house to die in her previous life.
Now, wearing a mask of sorrowful devotion, Fabian tried to drag her to his car to control her parents' massive life insurance payout.
When she shoved him away in pure nausea, his mother Eleanor immediately shrieked to the crowd, deploying her usual guilt trip.
"She's lost her mind! The girl has completely snapped!"
The townspeople whispered and pointed fingers, watching Fabian play the victim as he tightened his bruising grip on her wrist, claiming she was hysterical and needed to be locked away.
Antoinette stared at the mother and son who had conspired to steal her family's estate and end her life. The rage inside her felt like battery acid pumping through her veins.
They didn't care if she lived or died; they only cared about the money. How could she let them strip her of everything again?
She didn't hesitate. She swung with every bit of strength she possessed, slapping Fabian across the face in front of the entire town.
"The engagement is over," she announced coldly.
Then, she turned her back on her greedy ex-fiancé and walked straight toward the terrifyingly powerful billionaire Hiram Graves, ready to let the world burn.
8.5
I was supposed to marry Aaron, the future Alpha of the Blackwood Pack, and finally have my fairy tale.
But right before our Unity Celebration, I caught him buried between my stepsister's legs in our bridal suite.
When I refused to bind my soul to his at the altar and exposed his betrayal, my world completely shattered.
My own mother called me a crazy, wolfless bitch and disowned me on the spot for ruining a political alliance.
Aaron publicly humiliated me, screaming that as a wolfless Omega, I should have been on my knees thanking him for the chance to be his breeding mare.
Driven to absolute despair by the betrayal of everyone I trusted, I tried to jump off a freezing roof.
But a pair of strong arms pulled me back from the edge.
In the dark, a stranger consumed my grief, wrapping me in a terrifyingly dominant scent of cedar and leather, making me feel an intoxicating mate bond I thought I was incapable of having.
I thought it was just a desperate, one-night mistake to make me forget.
But the next morning, when I went to the Blackwood estate to return Aaron's gifts and leave as a Rogue, a suffocating aura filled the room.
The man who stepped between me and my furious ex-fiancé, the man whose marks were currently hidden beneath my clothes, stared at me with glowing golden eyes.
"Get your hands off her."
He was Kaelon Blackwood. The supreme Alpha King.
Aaron's father.
And he had just locked the door, declaring that I belonged to him.
7.1
To survive a forced one-year marriage contract with the ultra-wealthy Chavez family, Averi Marsh disguised herself as a pathetic, ugly duckling.
She caked her flawless skin in muddy yellow foundation, wore thick glasses, and played the part of a trembling, uneducated orphan.
The entire family treated her like literal garbage.
The youngest brother publicly swore he would rather cut off his own hand than marry a piece of trailer park trash.
Her nominal fiancé, Clarke, looked at her with cold disdain, allowing his glamorous companion to humiliate Averi by forcing her into a neon pink clown dress.
At a high-society party, a socialite shoved her into an infinity pool, laughing as the heavy fabric dragged her to the bottom.
They all wanted to see the poor girl broken, humiliated, and driven out of their pristine world.
What they didn't know was that beneath the hideous sweaters was a breathtaking, lethal predator.
They had no idea she was 'Spectre', the undefeated underground racing god who had just humiliated the arrogant Clarke on the track.
They didn't know she could shatter a bully's wrist in seconds or bankrupt their wealthy friends with a single text message.
But when the chlorinated pool water washed away her ugly makeup, the family's ambitious second son caught a glimpse of her true, flawless face.
The game of hide-and-seek was officially over.
The Chavez family thought they were torturing a helpless sheep, but they were about to realize they had locked themselves in a cage with a wolf.