The Unwanted Wife Is A Zillionaire

The roar of August's sports car faded into the city traffic below. Elisa stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows. She yanked the heavy blackout curtains shut, plunging the room into shadows. She reached into the hidden lining of her handbag and pulled out a thick, unmarked burner phone. She powered it on. Her fingers flew across the screen, entering a dynamic, rotating passcode. She dialed Jewel's encrypted line. The phone clicked. The sound of ocean waves crashing against the Long Island shore filled her ear, followed by the rapid pitter-patter of tiny feet. "Maman!" A soft, sweet five-year-old voice rang out, flawlessly reciting the French names of the constellations. Hearing Kayden's voice, the iron wall Elisa had built around her heart cracked. A sharp ache seized her throat. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. "Hi, my sweet girl," Elisa whispered, forcing her voice to stay steady. "Did you have a good day?" Kayden paused. Even at five, the child was terrifyingly perceptive. "You sound sad, Maman." A loud kissing sound came through the speaker. "I miss you." "I miss you too, baby," Elisa choked out. Jewel's voice took over the line. "Kayden, go look at Jupiter through the telescope. Let me talk to your mom." The tone shifted instantly. "What happened?" Jewel demanded. Elisa gave her the brutal, short version. The hospital. The blood. The contract scattered on the floor. "That arrogant son of a bitch," Jewel hissed. "Thank god we hid Kayden. If that monster knew about her..." "I'm leaving tonight," Elisa said, her voice turning to steel. "Is the safe house ready?" "Always," Jewel said. Elisa hung up. She wiped the moisture from her eyes. The vulnerability vanished, replaced by a cold, mechanical drive. She walked down the hall and pushed open the doors to the two-hundred-square-foot master closet. She hit the switch. A massive crystal chandelier illuminated rows of haute couture and limited-edition Birkin bags. Elisa grabbed a skin-tight red silk gown-August's favorite-and threw it onto the floor. She moved down the line, violently yanking dresses, skirts, and blouses off their velvet hangers. She tossed them onto the carpet like trash. Diamonds and pearls clattered against the hardwood. The closet looked like a war zone of extreme wealth. Elisa walked to the very back corner. She pulled out a scuffed, black nylon suitcase. She unzipped it and threw in three pairs of faded sweatpants, a few plain cotton t-shirts, and her old running shoes. She walked back to the study and unplugged a sleek, unassuming device that looked like a simple external drive but was actually a military-grade encrypted solid-state module. She carefully slid the biometric-locked hardware into the hidden, padded lining of her suitcase. That tiny piece of tech held the core data for her AI architecture. It was worth more than the entire penthouse. The suitcase wasn't even a tenth full. Seven years of marriage, and this was all that belonged to her. Elisa walked into the master bathroom. She stared at her reflection. Her long, perfectly styled hair hung down her back-exactly the way August demanded she keep it. She opened the drawer and pulled out a pair of heavy steel shears. Without a single flinch, she grabbed a fistful of hair at the nape of her neck and squeezed the blades shut. Thick locks of dark hair fell onto the pristine white marble counter. She looked at her new, jagged bob. She looked alive. Elisa pulled the heavy diamond engagement ring off her finger. She tossed it casually over her shoulder. The ring hit the tile floor with a sharp clink and rolled into the corner. She grabbed the handle of her suitcase and walked out into the living room.