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 3
Inside the grand ballroom of the Waldorf Astoria, the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and old money.
Crystal chandeliers cast a blinding, brilliant light over the crowd. A string quartet played a soft classical piece, perfectly masking the vicious undercurrents of the vanity fair.
Kendal stood in the center of the room, wearing a custom-made, starry-night gown. She was surrounded by a circle of Wall Street socialites, her smile flawless and practiced.
"To Kendal," an investment banker's wife said, raising her champagne flute with an overly sweet smile. "And to her upcoming marriage to the head of the Hammond family."
Kendal lowered her head, feigning shyness. She lifted her left hand just enough to let the light catch the massive pink diamond engagement ring on her ring finger.
Gasps of admiration rippled through the group.
Standing nearby, her mother Marlene lifted her chin. She soaked in the envy of the room, thrilled by the absolute power her daughter was about to secure.
Near the side entrance of the ballroom, Zane slipped through the heavy doors, panting heavily. His eyes darted frantically through the crowd.
He dodged a waiter carrying a tray of drinks and ducked behind a marble pillar. He pulled out his phone and sent a voice memo to Godfrey, keeping his voice to a harsh whisper.
"Her car is in the underground garage. The bodyguards just took the little girl up to a private suite."
Godfrey had just stepped through the side entrance when the audio message played against his ear.
His footsteps stopped instantly. The leather soles of his shoes screeched against the polished marble floor.
The little girl.
Those three words wrapped around Godfrey's throat like a vine covered in thorns, choking the air out of his lungs.
He leaned his back against the freezing wall. His brain ruthlessly calculated the timeline. Five years since the divorce. The kid was four or five. It was the ultimate, undeniable proof of her betrayal.
His hands began to shake uncontrollably. He thought the pain had gone numb years ago, but the agony tearing through his chest felt brand new.
Alex noticed his boss's pale face and stepped closer, his voice trembling. "Mr. Hammond... do you need to cancel the rest of the evening?"
Godfrey took a massive breath, forcing the blood back down from his head. When he opened his eyes, they were as cold and sharp as ice picks.
"No," he said, his voice completely hollow.
He straightened his spine and pushed open the heavy double doors leading into the main ballroom.
The moment the doors opened, the loud chatter in the room died down. Every pair of eyes locked onto the true king of New York.
Kendal's eyes lit up. She lifted the hem of her gown and walked toward Godfrey with the grace of a proud peacock, ready to claim her prize in front of the entire city.
But Godfrey's eyes didn't even flick in her direction. His gaze swept the massive room like a radar, searching every corner, every shadow.
Kendal reached him. She smiled brightly and reached out to loop her arm through his.
Godfrey shifted his weight and stepped to the side, completely dodging her touch.
The socialites watching from the sidelines saw everything. The whispers started instantly, spreading through the corners of the room like a virus.
Kendal's smile froze. A flash of pure humiliation and venom crossed her eyes, but she quickly forced her social mask back into place.
Suddenly, a piercing burst of static ripped through the ballroom's top-tier sound system.
The massive screen on the main stage, which had been playing a documentary about the Lee family's charity work, went completely black.
Everyone turned toward the stage. The string quartet stopped playing in shock.
The black screen flickered, and a bright green audio waveform appeared. The entire room fell into a bizarre, suffocating silence.
Then, a voice echoed through the speakers. It was a cold, steady female voice. A voice that made Godfrey's soul violently shudder.
"So, as long as I drink this, tomorrow's headlines will have the absolute proof of my affair. Right, Kendal?"
The recorded words dropped into the crowd like a live grenade.
Every single head in the room snapped toward Kendal. Her face drained of all color, turning a sickly, ashen white.
Kendal let out a piercing scream. She abandoned her elegant posture and sprinted toward the soundboard, desperately trying to rip the power cords out of the wall.
The hotel's head of security, alarmed by the sudden hijacking of their systems and the escalating chaos, rushed forward. He and another uniformed hotel guard stepped out of the shadows and blocked her path, their faces like stone, desperate to prevent a physical altercation on the main stage.
Up on the second-floor wraparound balcony, a slender figure in a minimalist black evening gown stepped into the spotlight.
Alyse looked down at the chaos below. Her eyes tracked through the crowd and locked perfectly onto Godfrey.
A cold, vengeful smile curved her lips.
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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.