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The Unwanted Husband Returns To The Top Novel Cover

The Unwanted Husband Returns To The Top

For three years, Connor lived as a ghost. A crippled, useless Uber driver, enduring a self-imposed exile orchestrated by his dying grandfather's will to prove he was worthy of the Hoffman empire. He even married into the wealthy Barlowe family, becoming their favorite punching bag. On the very last day of his test, his final Uber passengers slid into the backseat. It was his wife, Genevieve, and her wealthy lover. They didn't recognize him behind his mask. Right there in his rearview mirror, they kissed hungrily, mocking her "pathetic loser" of a husband and plotting to dump him after her sister's wedding. The next day at the wedding, they didn't just want a divorce. They wanted to publicly crucify him. Her lover framed Connor as a violent, cheating degenerate. They rallied the city's elite, getting his Uber manager to publicly fire him and convincing the entire ballroom to blacklist him from every job, apartment, and business in Ninverton. They even brought in an arrogant Vice President from the Hoffman Group to publicly declare Connor was a fraud, sealing his social execution. Standing alone in that lobby, surrounded by the mocking laughter of the people who had trampled on his dignity for a thousand days, Connor felt the last shred of his patience burn away. They were so utterly, hopelessly blind. Then, his encrypted phone rang. "Mr. Wise, the test is officially over. You are now the Global CEO of the Hoffman Group." Connor looked at his cheating wife and the arrogant elites laughing at his demise. He dropped the signed divorce papers on the table. The game was over. The slaughter was about to begin.
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Chapter 8

The four security guards who remained formed a cautious semi-circle around him. They had seen what he did to their colleagues. They were professionals, but they were also afraid.

Connor didn't give them time to think.

He moved like a phantom. A palm strike to the first guard's chest, knocking the wind out of him. A quick leg sweep that sent the second sprawling. He disarmed the third, who had drawn a baton, and used the man's own momentum to send him spinning into the fourth.

It was over in five seconds. Four trained men, incapacitated on the marble floor.

A stunned silence fell over the lobby. This wasn't a brawl. This was a demonstration of superior skill. A chilling, precise application of force.

Jett's smugness was replaced by a flicker of genuine fear. This wasn't just a tough guy. This was something else.

Connor stood in the center of the room, his chest rising and falling evenly. He commanded their attention without raising his voice.

He let his gaze sweep across the room, lingering for a moment on the faces of Jett, Genevieve, and Eleonora.

"You want to know who I am?" he asked, his voice calm and clear, resonating with an authority they couldn't comprehend. "You want to know what gives me the right?"

He paused, letting the question hang in the air, pregnant with menace.

Then, he delivered the truth.

"My name is Connor Wise. I am the new CEO of the Hoffman Group."

The words dropped into a pool of absolute silence. For a moment, the only sound was the distant music from the ballroom.

People stared at him, their expressions a mixture of confusion and pity. They were looking at a madman.

The silence was broken by a single, explosive bark of laughter.

It was Jett Maddox. He laughed until he was bent over, clutching his stomach, tears streaming from his eyes. His laughter was a contagion. First a few titters, then a wave of guffaws, and soon the entire lobby was filled with the sound of roaring, merciless ridicule.

"He's finally snapped!" someone yelled.

"CEO of Hoffman! That's a good one!"

Genevieve looked at him with a kind of horrified pity, as if he were a sick animal she was glad to be rid of. Eleonora's face was purple with rage at the perceived insult to a name synonymous with power and prestige.

"Arrest him!" she shrieked. "Arrest this imposter for daring to use that name!"

Just as the remaining hotel staff began to move, a commotion started at the main entrance.

The hotel's general manager came jogging into the lobby, his face flushed with a mixture of panic and reverence. He hurried to Alistair Barlowe's side.

"Sir," the manager whispered urgently. "Blair Vexler, the Vice President of the Hoffman Group, has just arrived."

The laughter died instantly. Every head turned toward the entrance. Blair Vexler was a legend in the business world. A true titan.

A woman with an aura of untouchable power strode into the lobby, flanked by two assistants. She was immaculate in a dark, custom-fitted pantsuit.

Jett and the Barlowes immediately straightened up, their faces morphing into sycophantic smiles. This was perfect. The ultimate authority had arrived to expose the fraud.

Jett intercepted her before anyone else could. He extended a hand, his smile wide and charming.

"Ms. Vexler, a pleasure. Jett Maddox," he said smoothly. "Welcome. We seem to have a bit of a situation here. An imposter, claiming to be your new CEO."

He gestured dramatically toward Connor, who stood alone and disheveled in the center of the hostile crowd.

Blair Vexler's sharp eyes followed his gesture. She saw Connor. She saw his simple, off-the-rack clothes, his youth, his defiant posture.

Her brow furrowed. A flicker of annoyance, of offense, crossed her face. This was an insult to her company. An insult to her.

And she was about to put an end to it.

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