The Unwanted Wife Is A Zillionaire Heiress
On the anniversary of her son's death, Audrey stood in the freezing cemetery for two hours, waiting for her husband.
Instead, his best friend showed up, claiming her husband was tied up with their daughter's emergency. But on her way home, Audrey caught sight of her husband, their daughter Willow, and another woman walking together.
She followed them to a luxury apartment that perfectly replicated her and her husband's humble first home.
Through a crack in the door, she watched her husband passionately kiss the woman.
She watched his best friend hand the mistress expensive gifts.
And she watched her own daughter happily eat cake and say, "Thank you, Mommy Kelsey."
When Audrey returned to her empty mansion, her daughter threw a massive tantrum, screaming that she wished Kelsey was her real mom.
The cruelest part was realizing the mistress was using Audrey's joint credit card to buy Willow's affection.
Her husband, her daughter, and her trusted friend had formed a flawless circle of betrayal. They were playing a happy family while she mourned her dead child alone. She had signed a brutal prenuptial agreement giving up everything for love, only to be treated like a pathetic joke.
But they didn't know the quiet, accommodating housewife was actually the hidden heir to the thirty-billion-dollar Carlisle empire.
Audrey left her diamond ring on the counter alongside a divorce settlement, activated her inheritance, and walked out.
"First step," she told her proxy. "We bleed his stock dry, and we dismantle his legacy piece by piece."
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Chapter 6
Audrey placed the empty crystal glass onto the marble island. The sharp clink echoed in the quiet kitchen. She turned and began walking toward the grand spiral staircase.
Before her foot hit the first step, a loud, violent crash shattered the silence from the second floor.
It was the sound of heavy porcelain shattering against hardwood.
"I hate you!" Willow's shrill scream followed the crash.
Audrey didn't run. She didn't panic. She walked up the stairs with slow, measured steps. She reached the second-floor landing and turned toward Willow's bedroom at the end of the hall.
The bedroom door was wide open.
In the center of the room, surrounded by jagged pieces of a shattered, antique Ming dynasty vase, stood Willow. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her chin jutted out in a posture of absolute defiance.
"You never buy me anything!" Willow screamed as soon as Audrey stepped into the doorway. "Kelsey bought me the limited-edition anime figure today! You wouldn't even know what it is! Dad is right about you!"
Audrey stopped at the edge of the debris field. She looked at the broken porcelain, then up at her daughter.
"What exactly is your father right about?" Audrey asked, her voice dangerously calm.
Willow sneered, emboldened by the lack of immediate punishment. "He says you don't do anything but spend his money! He says you're useless! You're not even half the woman Kelsey is!"
A day ago, those words would have sent Audrey into a spiral of tears and self-doubt. Today, they felt like nothing more than the buzzing of a particularly annoying insect.
Audrey stepped over the sharp shards of porcelain. She walked right up to Willow. She reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone, and opened her banking app.
She tapped the screen a few times, pulling up the joint credit card statements. She shoved the glowing screen directly into Willow's face.
"Look at it," Audrey ordered.
Willow blinked, her eyes focusing on the long list of transactions.
"The money your beloved 'Kelsey Auntie' used to buy you that toy today," Audrey said, her voice dropping to a freezing whisper, "came from a supplementary card linked to your father's primary account."
Audrey swiped the screen, showing the massive, draining balance of the joint account.
"Do you know what this means, Willow?" Audrey asked, her voice dropping to a freezing, agonizing whisper that carried all the weight of her shattered heart. "Every single cent she spends on those toys, every dollar she uses to play 'Mommy' with you, is half mine. She is using my money to steal my daughter. Do you think that's funny? Do you think she actually loves you, or is she just buying you with my bleeding veins?"
Willow's mouth opened, but no sound came out. The harsh, undeniable logic of the financial statement short-circuited her tantrum. Her face flushed a deep, humiliating crimson.
Unable to win with words, Willow resorted to violence. She spun around, grabbed a heavy hardcover textbook off her desk, and hurled it directly at Audrey's head.
Audrey didn't flinch. She simply tilted her head to the side. The heavy book flew past her ear and slammed into the drywall with a loud thud, dropping to the floor.
Audrey looked at the book, then back at Willow.
"Effective immediately," Audrey said, her tone entirely businesslike, "your monthly allowance is zero. Your supplementary credit cards are frozen. The driver will no longer take you to the mall."
"You can't do that!" Willow shrieked, her voice cracking. "I'll tell Dad! He'll stop you!"
Audrey crossed her arms over her chest. A cold, mocking smile played on her lips.
"Go ahead," Audrey challenged. "Call him. Let's see if the man who is currently playing house with his mistress has the time or the inclination to deal with your tantrums."
Willow's hands balled into fists. She glared at Audrey with pure hatred.
"I'm giving you the silent treatment!" Willow declared, her voice shaking with rage. "I am never calling you Mom again!"
"Good," Audrey said without missing a beat. "That saves us both a lot of fake pleasantries."
Audrey turned on her heel and walked out of the room.
In the hallway, Rosa, the live-in nanny, was hovering near the staircase, her eyes wide with shock. She had heard everything.
Audrey stopped in front of her.
"Rosa," Audrey said sharply.
Rosa jumped. "Y-yes, Mrs. Christian?"
"Starting tomorrow morning, you are no longer to do Willow's laundry. You are not to clean her room, and you are not to prepare her snacks," Audrey commanded. "She is ten years old. If she wants to live here, she can act like a functional human being. Am I clear?"
Rosa swallowed hard, intimidated by the sudden, terrifying authority radiating from the woman she had always considered a soft touch.
"Yes, ma'am. Perfectly clear."
Audrey walked past her, entered the master bedroom, and locked the heavy door behind her.
She walked over to the mahogany desk near the window and opened her laptop. The screen glowed in the dark room. She opened a secure cloud folder and pulled up the scanned PDF of the prenuptial agreement she had signed three years ago.
She scrolled past the asset division clauses, her eyes scanning the dense legal jargon until she found what she was looking for.
Section 8: Marital Fault and Asset Forfeiture.
It was a hidden, highly specific clause Colton's lawyers had buried deep in the document, likely to protect Colton from Audrey if she ever cheated. But the wording was reciprocal.
Audrey's fingers flew across the keyboard. She opened a new document and began drafting the core demands for her divorce settlement.
She was going to bleed him dry.
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8.0
Abigayle was the proud heir to the Pena Group, living a perfect life and engaged to Jeffery Sullivan.
But the morning after a charity gala, she woke up drugged in a hotel room, blinded by paparazzi cameras. Her fiancé and her best friend stood at the foot of the bed, throwing a forged pregnancy report at her face to publicly frame her for cheating.
The betrayal was only the beginning of the slaughter. Before she could even clear her name, the Sullivan family ruthlessly bankrupted her family's company overnight. Her father was rushed to the ICU with a heart attack, her brother was run off the road into a coma, and violent repo men raided her penthouse. Just as she was thrown out into the freezing rain, Jeffery's terrifying uncle, Donovan Sullivan—the very mastermind who engineered her family's ruin—stepped in. He offered to cover the life-saving medical bills, but only if she agreed to become his personal plaything.
Abigayle's blood turned to ice. She couldn't understand how the people she trusted most could plot such a vicious, coordinated destruction just to break an engagement. How dared the man who destroyed her entire family stand there playing the savior, trying to buy her body with her own stolen wealth?
Facing a $100,000 hospital deadline and abandoned by everyone she knew, she didn't shed another tear.
"I will never beg him."
Clutching her last diamond bracelet, she hailed a cab straight to the biggest pawnshop in the Diamond District. The Sullivans thought they had buried her, but her counterattack was just beginning.
9.2
Averie spent hours preparing a perfect third-anniversary dinner for her billionaire husband, Jarett Sharp.
Instead of celebrating, she received an anonymous photo of him intimately holding another woman.
When Jarett finally arrived, he didn't even look guilty.
"Candida. It's okay. Don't be scared. I'm on my way."
He simply took a call from his mistress, shoved Averie aside, and walked right back out the door.
That same night, Averie's father suffered a massive heart attack.
The hospital demanded a half-million-dollar deposit before they would operate.
But when Averie frantically tried to use the emergency medical trust card Jarett had given her, it was declined.
Jarett had deliberately frozen her access to the funds just hours earlier.
While she begged his assistant on the phone, Jarett refused to be disturbed, busy wrapping his expensive coat around his mistress in the hospital garden.
Averie collapsed in the hallway, realizing the man she loved was deliberately letting her father die.
In the end, a childhood friend stepped in to pay the bill and save her father's life, while her billionaire husband later pinned her to their bed, throwing a check at her and reminding her he had bought her for three million dollars.
Averie didn't shed a single tear.
She slowly ripped his check into pieces, left her massive diamond ring on the dresser, and walked out into the cold New York night with nothing but her old suitcase.
She pulled out her phone and dialed her old ballet professor.
She wasn't just going to leave Jarett Sharp. She was going to destroy him.
8.7
Five years ago, I was the invisible scholarship charity case at an elite Manhattan prep school, trying to survive in a sea of trust-fund babies.
Arlo Hammond, the untouchable billionaire heir, made sure to completely dismantle my soul.
When his wealthy friends asked if he noticed me, his mocking laughter echoed down the hallway.
"Are you out of your mind? You seriously think I'd be interested in a boring little nerd like her?"
But the moment we were alone, he would corner me in dark alleys, pinning my wrists against brick walls with terrifying, possessive jealousy if my phone even buzzed. He played his twisted games until I was left standing in the rain with my shattered dignity.
Now, I am an Assistant District Attorney. I spent years burying those memories under mountains of legal files.
But tonight, he returned.
When we crossed paths at an exclusive club, he looked at me with the cool detachment he'd give a piece of furniture. In front of a crowd of elites, he coldly declared:
"We have absolutely nothing to do with each other anymore."
Then he walked away to pick up a supermodel, leaving me trembling from the sheer humiliation.
I didn't understand. If I was so worthless to him, why did he still have my birthday tattooed in dark ink on his wrist? Why did he look at me with such raw, painful vulnerability in the shadows?
I stared at my pale reflection in the mirror and made a silent vow.
I am not that pathetic seventeen-year-old anymore, and I will prove to him that I am completely, entirely over him.
8.0
Finley's stepfather gave her a sickening ultimatum: marry her predatory stepbrother Shane tonight, or he would throw her fragile mother out on the street.
To escape this hell, she used a matchmaking agency and hastily married a complete stranger. Garrison Strickland claimed to be an ordinary data analyst making $95,000 a year, driving a beat-up Honda Civic, and needing a wife in name only. They got their marriage license at City Hall that very afternoon.
But when Finley returned home to pack her bags and threw the certificate on the table, her family just laughed. Dozier ordered Shane to drag her into the bedroom to "teach her a lesson" and trap her forever.
"Come on, little sister," Shane crooned, lunging at her. "Don't fight it."
Finley's own mother just stared at the floor, blaming Finley for ruining the family, watching blindly as Shane cornered her.
Terrified and desperate, Finley smashed an ashtray over Shane's head and frantically dialed her new husband's number. Shane snatched the phone, mocking the "imaginary husband" before the line went dead. Finley felt a bottomless despair. Garrison was just a normal guy; he would never risk his life against her violent family. She was completely on her own, waiting for the end.
Suddenly, deafening bangs echoed through the house, and Garrison stepped into the living room radiating a cold, terrifying fury. This supposedly "frugal data analyst" effortlessly snapped Shane's wrist, leveled a ruthless death threat that made Dozier tremble, and whisked Finley away in a waiting Bentley. Looking at the powerful man beside her, Finley's heart raced: just who exactly had she married today?
9.1
For three years, June played the perfect, submissive wife to billionaire Augustus Pruitt, hoping a child would finally warm his cold heart and secure their marriage.
But when she cautiously suggested they have a baby, he looked at her with pure, unfiltered disgust.
"A woman who schemes her way into a marriage doesn't get to carry my blood."
He sneered, leaving immediately to lavish his mistress with diamonds. The nightmare only escalated from there. Augustus bought the one painting June desperately wanted—a piece she had secretly created herself—just to gift it to his mistress. He publicly outbid June at the gallery, mocking her lack of wealth, and left her to collapse in the freezing rain. When the storm gave her a severe 104-degree fever and she nearly died on their staircase, he didn't even stay by her hospital bed. Instead, he sent an assistant with a box of jewelry to buy her silence, then forced her to attend a family dinner where his mother and sister viciously mocked her barren womb and background.
Looking at Augustus, who sat there casually cutting his steak while his family tore her apart, the last flicker of hope in June's chest sputtered and died.
She finally understood that her three years of bleeding devotion were nothing but a pathetic joke to them.
She dropped her silverware, the sharp clatter silencing the entire room. She wasn't going to be their punching bag anymore. It was time to finalize the divorce papers, reclaim her hidden identity as the world-renowned artist 'mr.sun', and make them all regret it.
7.6
I was once the untouchable heiress to the Schroeder empire, until a corporate fraud conviction stripped away my life and threw me into federal prison for five brutal years.
On the day of my release, I stepped out into the freezing rain only to realize I had been utterly abandoned by everyone I loved.
My family sent no one. My former best friends blocked my number, and high-society women took photos of my shivering, pathetic state for laughs. To survive, I made a desperate deal to act as the fake fiancée of Kayden Washington, a ruthless, disgraced billionaire fighting his own blood. But the moment we joined forces, the nightmare escalated. Our safehouse was ransacked, we were hunted by tactical hitmen in the dark, and my adoptive brother stole my dead mother's diary just to bribe me into leaving New York forever. Worse, the digital trail of my framing traced back to a top-tier operative manipulating both our families from the shadows.
I didn't understand why my own family had sacrificed me like a worthless pawn to ignite a massive, invisible war. What dark secret was I actually taking the fall for?
Just as Kayden and I prepared to burn both empires to the ground, a mysterious courier dropped a package at my door. Inside rested the Schroeder Patriarch's solid gold ring—the ultimate symbol of absolute power—sent directly to me, the disgraced exile.
"They took your past, but I will give you the power to forge a new future."
The game hadn't just changed. The board had been flipped, and I was going back to take the throne.