The Unwanted Wife's SSS-Class Husbands

The heavy oak door of the VIP lounge swung open with a bang, slamming against the interior wall.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Blair's voice was a raw shriek of fury.

Hadley didn't look up. She was comfortably seated on a plush leather sofa, her terminal resting on the polished mahogany coffee table in front of her. She was scrolling through the dense legal text of the Federation's marital contracts.

"I'm busy," she said, her tone flat and dismissive. "Close the door. You're letting the noise in."

Blair stormed into the room, his two co-fiancés, Faye and Brodie, trailing behind him like nervous shadows. His face was still flushed a deep, ugly red.

"Don't play games with me, Hadley," he snarled, planting his hands on the table and leaning into her space. "This is just another one of your pathetic attempts to get my attention, isn't it? A little drama to make me feel sorry for you?"

He clearly believed she was bluffing. That this was all some desperate, last-ditch effort to win him back.

He straightened up, a cruel smirk returning to his face. He pulled a folded document from his inner jacket pocket and tossed it onto the table. It slid to a stop next to her terminal.

"Sign this," he ordered. "It's a waiver. You sign away all claims to your trust fund, and you get on your knees and apologize for embarrassing me. If you do that, I might... be persuaded to extend some measure of protection. As a Sterling always protects his assets."

Hadley finally lifted her eyes from the screen. She looked at the document. Then she looked at him. Then she picked up the cup of lukewarm coffee sitting on the table.

And threw its contents directly onto the front of his pristine, white Armani suit.

Blair screamed, a high-pitched, childish sound, as the brown liquid soaked into the expensive fabric. He jumped back, frantically dabbing at the stain with a napkin.

In that moment of distraction, Hadley's finger tapped the final confirmation button on her terminal's screen.

SUBMIT UNILATERAL DISSOLUTION REQUEST: CONFIRMED.

A soft chime echoed in the quiet room.

Instantly, the large holographic screen on the lounge wall, which had been displaying a serene image of a nebula, flickered to life. The golden crest of the Federal Supreme Court blazed into view.

A cold, synthesized AI voice filled the space.

"Engagement contract H-77B3, between Hadley Haynes and Blair Sterling, has been terminated under the Public Defamation clause. All associated asset freezes are hereby lifted. This ruling is final."

Blair froze mid-dab. Faye and Brodie stared at the screen, their faces masks of disbelief. They had always treated Hadley like a doormat, an accessory they were legally obligated to tolerate. They never imagined she had the spine to actually sever ties with their three powerful families.

Hadley's gaze shifted to them, cold and unwavering. "That was the first contract," she said, her voice flat. "The system processes linked dissolutions. Yours are next."

Before they could react, her terminal chimed twice more. Two new holographic notifications materialized above her wrist.

"Engagement contract H-77C4, between Hadley Haynes and Faye Sterling, has been terminated under the Associated Public Defamation clause."

"Engagement contract H-77D5, between Hadley Haynes and Brodie Velez, has been terminated under the Associated Public Defamation clause."

Faye's mouth opened and closed soundlessly. Brodie took an instinctive step back, as if the words on the screen were a physical blow. In an instant, their legal hold on her inheritance, their claims to her trust fund, went up in smoke.

The lounge door opened again, this time more quietly.

Rhiannon Prescott, Hadley's cousin, glided in. She was the picture of high-society elegance, from her perfectly coiffed blonde hair to the red soles of her designer heels. She surveyed the scene-Blair's stained suit, Hadley's calm demeanor-with an air of supreme authority.

"Hadley, you are making a spectacle of yourself," Rhiannon said, her voice dripping with condescension. "You are embarrassing the Prescott name."

Hadley ignored her completely. Her attention was fixed on her terminal, where a long string of numbers was rapidly populating her previously empty account. The satisfying chime of incoming credit transfers was music to her ears.

"Did you hear me?" Rhiannon's voice sharpened. She was used to being the center of attention. Being ignored, especially by Hadley, was an insult she couldn't tolerate. "This little tantrum of yours will ruin our family's reputation. I demand you withdraw this ridiculous application at once."

When Hadley still didn't respond, Rhiannon's carefully constructed composure snapped. She lunged forward, her manicured fingers reaching for the terminal on the table.

"Give me that!"

Hadley's reaction was instantaneous. Her hand shot out, not to protect the terminal, but to intercept Rhiannon's wrist. Her grip was like a steel trap. She twisted.

Rhiannon cried out in pain, a sharp, surprised yelp.

"Don't touch my things," Hadley said, her voice dangerously low.

With her other hand, she reached for the glittering diamond necklace around Rhiannon's throat. It was a family heirloom, a piece that had belonged to the original Hadley's mother. Rhiannon had "borrowed" it years ago and never returned it.

Hadley's fingers closed around the cold stones. With a sharp tug, the clasp broke. She ripped the necklace free.

At that exact moment, her terminal let out a piercing, high-pitched siren. The screen flashed a brilliant, alarming red.

The AI voice spoke again, louder this time, its tone urgent.

"WARNING. Unbonded Psi-Null Female detected. Genetic profile has been re-entered into the Federal Mandatory Matching database. Searching for compatible partners... Match found. Assigning new binding contracts. Quantity: Five."

The room fell into a dead silence.

Even Rhiannon forgot the throbbing pain in her wrist.

Five?

One-time assignment of five partners? That was unheard of. A statistical impossibility. The system was designed to assign one, maybe two partners at most, and only after a lengthy compatibility review.

Blair was the first to break the silence. He burst into laughter, a harsh, mocking sound.

"Five? The system must be broken!" he crowed. "They're probably assigning you five pieces of trash from the lowest city sectors. Five homeless beggars to go with the Psi-Null beggar!"

Faye and Brodie, however, didn't look so amused. They exchanged a worried glance. The Federal matching system was based on genetic potential. An anomaly of this magnitude... it meant something was deeply wrong. Or deeply significant.

Hadley's brow furrowed in annoyance. She had just gotten rid of three leeches, and now the system was forcing five more on her? She saw a "REJECT" button on the screen and jabbed at it.

A new message popped up: Under the Federal Propagation Act, mandatory assignments are non-negotiable.

Great. Just great.

On the wall screen, the files for her terminated contracts with Blair, Faye, and Brodie dissolved into digital ash. In their place, five new files appeared, materializing from the ether. Each one was sealed with a heavy, black stamp that read: CLASSIFIED.

Rhiannon, clutching her wrist, finally found her voice again. It was filled with venomous glee.

"I hope they're all genetic deviants," she spat. "I hope they're monsters on the verge of Psi-collapse. You deserve nothing less."

Hadley coolly slipped the diamond necklace into the pocket of her dress. "Even monsters are better than hypocrites," she said, her voice flat.

She stood up, her gaze sweeping over the stunned faces of her former fiancés and her cousin. They were leeches, all of them. Parasites who had fed on the original Hadley's hope and inheritance.

"From this day forward," she declared, her voice resonating with a finality that chilled them to the bone, "the weak, pathetic Hadley you knew is gone."

She turned and walked towards the door. They still saw her as a worthless Psi-Null, a joke. But the way she moved, the straightness of her spine, the sheer killing intent radiating from her, told a different story.

As her hand touched the doorknob, her terminal vibrated.

The lock on the first classified file clicked open.

And a single, blood-red, SSS-class insignia burned on the screen.

She pushed the door open and strode out into the corridor, leaving the stunned silence of the VIP lounge behind her.