The Unwanted Wife's Secret Billionaire Identity

The Rolls-Royce Phantom stopped smoothly in front of the towering glass headquarters of MY Corporation. The doorman rushed to open the door.

Herminia stepped out, her presence radiating cold authority. Anne walked half a step behind her, carrying a thick leather folder.

Employees in the grand lobby stopped and stared. Whispers broke out as the striking, unfamiliar woman marched toward the elevators.

The head receptionist stepped forward to block them. "Excuse me, you need a badge—"

Anne didn't say a word. She simply held up a solid black, top-tier Board of Directors keycard. The receptionist stepped back, face pale.

They took the executive elevator straight to the top floor. Outside the double doors of the boardroom, a dozen nervous managers were pacing.

Herminia pushed the heavy wooden doors open and walked past the stunned executives. She sat directly in the center seat—the Chairman's chair.

An older, arrogant vice president slammed his hand on the table. "Who the hell are you? Get out of that chair!"

Herminia smiled. It didn't reach her eyes. She took the folder from Anne and tossed a certified document into the center of the table.

"I am the majority shareholder," she said, her voice echoing off the glass walls. "I am the founder, Anna. As of this second, I am taking over."

Dead silence fell over the room. The arrogant vice president looked at the signature on the document and started sweating.

Herminia didn't give them a second to breathe. She looked at Anne. "Read the list."

Within three minutes, she fired three top executives for corruption and faction-building. Security guards physically dragged them out of the room. The remaining executives sat frozen in terror.

Herminia leaned forward, eyes cold, and began outlining her brutal restructuring plan.

At that exact moment, a few blocks away in the Elliott Capital building, the tension in the CEO's office was thick enough to choke on.

Bradley sat behind his massive desk, eyes bloodshot. He'd spent the entire night dealing with Kristal's fake panic attacks.

Connor knocked timidly and entered, holding a red-stamped, highly classified report.

"Sir," Connor swallowed. "Madam is not on the streets. She went to MY Corporation."

Bradley frowned. "She got a job as a low-level clerk?"

Connor shook his head, hands trembling. "No, sir. She isn't working for them. We tracked her directly to the top-floor boardroom. There are internal rumors... she might be deeply connected to Anna, the mysterious founder of MY. Her exact identity is protected by top-tier encryption, but she took over the chairman's seat today."

Snap.

The expensive fountain pen in Bradley's hand broke in half. Black ink exploded across his fingers and dripped onto the Persian rug.

He shot up from his chair, snatching the report from Connor's hands. For three years, she had played the weak, uneducated housewife. She had played him for a fool.

Betrayal and rage choked him. He grabbed his phone and dialed her number again. Still disconnected.

Bradley ripped off his tie and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, staring down at the concrete jungle of Manhattan. She was slipping out of his control. Fine. If she wanted to play a business game, he would crush her with capital until she crawled back begging.

He turned around. His eyes locked onto his target like a hawk.

"Initiate a hostile takeover of MY Corporation immediately," he ordered, voice dripping with venom. "Cut off their supply chains. Block their bank loans. Back her into a corner until she comes crawling back to me."

Connor nodded quickly and rushed out.

Bradley looked back out the window, jaw clenched tight. "You can't escape me, Herminia."