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The Unwanted Wife Demands A Divorce Novel Cover

The Unwanted Wife Demands A Divorce

I married the ruthless billionaire Dorman Cannon to save my family's business. For two years, I played the perfect, invisible wife in a cold, loveless marriage. But the day my sister Cierra—his ex-fiancée—returned from Europe, the illusion shattered. A private investigator sent me a photo: Dorman walking into her hotel room at the exact time he claimed to be in a board meeting. I packed my bags and demanded a divorce. Instead of apologizing, Dorman pinned me against the bedroom wall. Right in front of me, he made a single phone call to freeze my father's credit line, instantly triggering a liquidity crisis that would bankrupt my family. "You are my wife. You are not going anywhere." He then tossed a record-breaking Cartier diamond necklace at my feet, like a pacifier for a misbehaving child. I smashed the multimillion-dollar piece to the marble floor, screaming that I wasn't just an asset on his balance sheet. But he only stared at the scattered diamonds with terrifying indifference, completely unfazed by my despair. I didn't understand. If he wanted Cierra so badly, why was he holding my family hostage just to keep me trapped in this gilded cage? Sitting on the cold floor surrounded by broken diamonds, my tears finally stopped. Since he refused to let me leave quietly, I would just have to tear his perfect empire down from the inside.
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Chapter 2

The Rolls-Royce turned onto the private drive lined with ancient oak trees. The Ayers estate emerged from the twilight, a sprawling Georgian revival mansion that looked more like a museum than a home. It loomed against the darkening sky, its windows glowing with a cold, unwelcoming light.

Thomas opened the door, and the damp, salty air of the Hamptons hit Adina immediately. She stepped out, her heels sinking slightly into the gravel.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Cannon," the butler said, appearing at the massive front door. His gaze flicked past her shoulder, scanning the empty driveway behind her. "Will Mr. Cannon be joining you later?"

"No, James," Adina said, keeping her voice steady. "He's detained in the city."

James's expression remained politely blank, but Adina saw the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. The staff always noticed. They always gossiped.

She walked into the grand foyer, the click of her heels echoing off the marble floor. The house smelled like it always did-fresh flowers, polished wood, and quiet desperation.

"In the drawing room, Miss Adina," James said.

She walked down the long hallway and paused at the archway. Her parents, Clyde and Eleonora, were standing by the fireplace. Clyde held a crystal tumbler of scotch; Eleonora held her posture like a weapon. They turned as one when they heard her footsteps.

Eleonora's eyes immediately went past Adina, searching the empty hall. "Where is Dorman?"

Adina walked further into the room, her hands clasped in front of her to hide their trembling. "He has a board meeting. He couldn't get away."

"Couldn't get away?" Eleonora repeated, her lips thinning. "His sister-in-law returns after two years abroad, and he can't be bothered to leave the office? This is exactly the kind of slight that fuels gossip, Adina. You need to manage him better."

"Manage him?" Adina let out a short, humorless laugh. "Mother, I can't even get him to eat breakfast with me."

"Perhaps he just didn't want to see me."

The voice came from the staircase. Adina's head snapped up.

Cierra Ayers stood on the landing, one hand resting lightly on the banister. She wore a red silk dress that clung to every curve, her dark hair swept up in an elegant twist. She looked older, sharper. The two years in Europe had polished her already striking features into something lethal.

She descended the stairs slowly, her eyes locked on Adina. The air in the room seemed to thin out, the tension crackling like static electricity before a storm.

Cierra stopped a few feet away, her red lips curving into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She opened her arms and stepped forward, pulling Adina into a stiff embrace.

"Long time no see, little sister," Cierra murmured against her ear, her voice like velvet wrapped around barbed wire. "Or should I say... Mrs. Cannon?"

Adina's spine went rigid. She forced herself to step back, keeping her face a mask of polite indifference. "Welcome home, Cierra."

Dinner was a suffocating affair. They sat around the long mahogany table in the formal dining room, the crystal chandelier casting prismatic light over the untouched food on their plates. Clyde and Eleonora hung on Cierra's every word, asking about her flat in Paris, her trips to Amalfi, her plans for the future.

Adina pushed a piece of asparagus around her plate. She felt like a ghost at her own table, invisible and insubstantial.

"So, Adina," Cierra said, breaking a lull in the conversation. She swirled the wine in her glass, her gaze fixed on Adina. "How is Dorman? Cannon Industries stock has been performing exceptionally well this quarter. He must be incredibly busy."

Adina's stomach twisted. The question was innocent enough, but the glint in Cierra's eye told a different story. It was a probe, a test.

"He's fine," Adina said, her voice flat. "Business is good."

Cierra tilted her head, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Good. We wouldn't want him overworking himself. We used to be so good at helping each other... unwind."

The words hung in the air, sharp and deliberate. Clyde cleared his throat loudly, suddenly fascinated by his scotch. Eleonora reached over and placed a portion of lamb on Cierra's plate, completely ignoring Adina.

"You look thin, Cierra," Eleonora said. "You need to eat more."

Adina felt the sting of the dismissal. It was always like this. Cierra was the sun, and Adina was just a planet orbiting in her shadow, desperate for scraps of warmth.

The moment the plates were cleared, Adina stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I have a long drive back to the city."

"Running away already?" Cierra asked, leaning back in her chair.

"I have things to do," Adina said through gritted teeth.

She grabbed her coat from the butler and walked toward the front door. The night air was freezing, but she welcomed the bite of it.

"Adina, wait."

She stopped, her hand on the car door handle. Cierra walked out of the house, wrapping a cashmere shawl around her shoulders. She leaned against the stone pillar, looking effortlessly beautiful in the moonlight.

"Don't take what I said in there to heart," Cierra said, her tone light, almost conversational. "I was just curious if Dorman still hates these boring family dinners as much as he used to."

Adina turned, her eyes narrowing. "I think you know his preferences better than anyone."

Cierra's smile widened, a flash of white teeth in the dark. "True. Some things never change."

The double meaning slammed into Adina's chest. She stared at her sister, the woman who had held Dorman's heart before Adina had been forced into his arms. The woman who, apparently, still held a piece of it.

Adina didn't say another word. She yanked open the car door and threw herself inside. "Drive, Thomas. Now."

As the car sped down the long driveway, Adina pressed her back against the leather seat, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Cierra's words echoed in her head, mixing with Dorman's cold rejection on the phone.

Some things never change.

A terrible, creeping suspicion began to crawl up Adina's spine. Had they been in contact this whole time? Was Dorman's absence tonight really about a board meeting, or was it about the woman who had just returned to claim what was hers?

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