The Jilted Bride's Billion Dollar Revenge
On our wedding night, celebrating a billion-dollar family merger, my new husband Coleton stepped out of the shower.
Suddenly, his phone rang. It was his dead brother's widow, Hana, crying that her five-year-old had a fever.
Without hesitation, Coleton shoved me hard into the wall to get out the door.
"Are you seriously jealous of a sick five-year-old kid?" he spat.
He abandoned me in the bridal suite. I immediately filed for divorce and leaked it to the press.
To save the merger and their stock prices, both our families rushed in to force me to back down.
My own father raised his hand to slap me for my "petty female jealousy."
Coleton's grandfather brutally beat him with a heavy wooden cane right in front of me, trying to use a twisted debt of honor to guilt-trip me into staying.
Through a hidden dumbwaiter shaft, I overheard their secret meeting. They were plotting to use Coleton's bloody photos to paint me as a cold-hearted villain to the media, trapping me in the marriage through public shame.
My own brother nodded along to this plot just to secure his CEO bonus.
Coleton only begged for my forgiveness because he was terrified of losing his trust fund to an illegitimate heir.
In their eyes, my dignity was just a cheap commodity with a price tag.
But I am a Pennington, raised in a world where trust is a liability.
I calmly saved the audio recording of their plot, packed my Hermes suitcase, and emailed the most ruthless divorce litigator in Manhattan.
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Chapter 3
Coleton stumbled backward. His dress shoes scraped against the porch floorboards.
Hana reached out, her fingers brushing the fabric of his sleeve. "Coleton? What's wrong?"
He completely ignored her hands. His eyes were wide with raw terror.
"I have to go back," Coleton stammered, his words tripping over each other. "I have to fix this."
He didn't look at her again. He spun around and sprinted toward the Aston Martin.
The engine roared to life with a violent, aggressive growl. The tires spun, burning rubber against the asphalt and sending up a cloud of acrid white smoke. Coleton sped away from the house as fast as the car could go.
Hana stood alone in the freezing wind. The fragile, tear-stained mask melted off her face. She watched the red taillights disappear into the dark. Her eyes narrowed, turning dark and calculating.
Back at the Hampton estate, the bridal suite was silent except for the sound of zippers.
Katrina's face was completely blank. She pulled several expensive, tailored outfits from the closet and threw them into her Hermes suitcase. Her movements were sharp and efficient.
Outside the window, a sharp screech of brakes tore through the night.
Brandin's black Maybach ignored the security guards, swerving and parking horizontally right at the base of the main stairs.
Brandin kicked his door open. His tie was loose, his suit jacket wrinkled. He looked like an enraged bull. He stormed into the grand lobby.
His heavy footsteps pounded down the hallway. He reached the bridal suite and shoved the double doors open with all his strength. The heavy wood slammed against the wall with a deafening crash.
Brandin pointed a shaking finger right at Katrina's face. "Take that statement down right now! Tell them your account was hacked!"
Katrina stopped packing. She slowly pulled the zipper of the suitcase closed. She stood up straight and looked at her brother. Her eyes held nothing but pure, unfiltered disgust.
"Do you have any idea what you just did?" Brandin yelled, his face turning purple. "The stock price! The merger! You are risking hundreds of millions of dollars!"
Katrina let out a short, cold laugh. "You don't care if I'm humiliated. You only care about your CEO year-end bonus."
Before Brandin could scream another insult, the sound of multiple car doors slamming echoed from the driveway.
The Meyer family convoy had arrived.
Footsteps marched up the stairs. Adelbert Meyer walked into the room, flanked by Jovani and Rocco, the massive head of security. Every step Adelbert took radiated absolute, suffocating authority.
Adelbert stopped in the center of the suite. He slammed his solid silver cane into the hardwood floor. The sharp crack instantly silenced Brandin's heavy breathing.
Adelbert took a deep breath. The rage vanished from his face, replaced by a sickeningly fake, grandfatherly warmth.
"Katrina, my dear," Adelbert said, his voice smooth. "This is just a small misunderstanding between young people. Coleton is too kind-hearted. He made a foolish mistake."
Katrina didn't back down an inch. She stared right into the old man's eyes.
"He told me I was jealous of a sick five-year-old," Katrina said, her voice like cracking ice. "He pushed me out of the way to get to her. He put his hands on me and violently shoved me into the wall. That wasn't a mistake. That was a choice and an assault."
Jovani stepped out from behind Adelbert. He put his hands up, playing the reasonable peacemaker. "Katrina, please. As his cousin, I know Coleton. He just has a strong sense of responsibility."
Katrina snapped her head toward Jovani. "You can't even clean up the messes in your own department, Jovani. What gives you the right to define responsibility?"
Jovani's face flushed a deep, ugly red. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He awkwardly stepped back behind Adelbert, thoroughly humiliated.
Heavy, rushed footsteps echoed in the hallway.
Delmus Pennington, Katrina's father, rushed into the room. He was sweating, followed by a swarm of nervous assistants.
Delmus didn't look at his daughter with an ounce of sympathy. His eyes burned with the fury of a man whose property was acting up.
"You foolish girl!" Delmus barked. "You are dragging the reputation of this entire family through the mud over some petty female jealousy!"
Katrina's heart sank to the very bottom of her stomach. The coldness spread to her fingertips. She turned her head and locked eyes with the man who shared her blood.
"Does my dignity as a Pennington daughter mean less than the zeros on your contract?" she asked. Her voice didn't shake.
Delmus's face contorted with rage. Her defiance snapped his control. He raised his right hand high into the air, fully intending to slap her across the face to restore his absolute authority.
Katrina didn't flinch. She didn't step back. She tilted her chin up, her eyes blazing with absolute defiance, waiting for the physical blow.
Just as Delmus's hand swung down, Brandin lunged forward from the side.
Brandin's hand clamped down hard on his father's wrist, stopping the slap inches from Katrina's cheek.
"Dad, stop," Brandin hissed through clenched teeth. "Don't lose your temper in front of the Meyers! We must maintain the Pennington family's dignity. We don't resort to domestic brawls like commoners!"
Katrina looked at the two men. She knew exactly what Brandin was really doing. They weren't protecting her, and they weren't protecting their dignity. They were protecting their pristine corporate image and their stock prices. She let out a low, mocking laugh that chilled the room.