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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7.1
I waited a year for my mate, Alpha Justin, to return from the border war. While he was gone, I used my ten-million-dollar dowry to keep his crumbling pack afloat and buy life-saving elixirs for his mother.
But when he finally walked through the door, he reeked of another female's scent.
He brought back Gamma Brenna and a Royal Decree, coldly announcing she would be his "Co-Luna."
His family, who survived entirely on my wealth, immediately turned on me. They mocked me for being a wolfless orphan since my father and brothers were slaughtered defending the kingdom.
"You're just a fragile woman who belongs hidden away," Justin told me.
They demanded I accept this humiliation, step aside for his new warrior mate, and continue funding their luxurious lifestyle. Justin even arrogantly offered to sleep with me just once to give me a pup as a "consolation prize," declaring his heart and body belonged entirely to Brenna.
They thought my ruined pack meant I had no backing. They thought I was a pathetic victim who would cling to their scraps and accept a polluted mate-bond just to avoid being cast out into the woods as a Rogue.
They had no idea I had already visited the Alpha King.
I wasn't going to cry, and I certainly wasn't going to share my mate. I packed up every last cent of my ten million dollars, secured a Royal Severance Decree, and prepared to watch their arrogant pack starve to death.
7.2
Elmore Thomas rushed into the emergency room, clutching his feverish seven-year-old son, Buddy, tightly to his chest.
When the privacy curtain was pulled back, the air in Elmore's lungs vanished. The attending physician standing under the harsh lights was his wife, Kendal—the woman everyone believed had burned to death eight years ago.
But there was no tearful reunion. Kendal looked at him, and her eyes froze into impenetrable ice. She treated him like a biohazard, strictly referring to him as the family member.
Worse, she didn't recognize Buddy. She comforted their crying son with the same gentle warmth she used to reserve for Elmore, completely unaware she was soothing the baby she thought had died.
Days later, Elmore watched from the shadows as she picked up another boy outside a prep school, her left hand flashing a massive diamond engagement ring.
When his butler accidentally recognized her, Kendal shielded her new stepson with pure disgust in her eyes.
"Tell that psychopath to sign the divorce papers immediately. I have a new family now."
The words 'new family' echoed in Elmore's skull, tearing him apart. For eight years, he had lived in a hell of guilt and madness, raising their son in the shadow of her ghost. How could she just erase their past? How could she give her tender smiles to a stranger and look at him with absolute revulsion?
Standing in a luxury ballroom, Elmore squeezed his hand until his crystal champagne flute shattered, thick blood dripping onto the rug. The murderous obsession in his dark eyes returned as he called his lawyer.
"Freeze her divorce application. Use every dirty trick in the book. She isn't leaving."
7.6
I am the illegitimate, mute daughter of the wealthy Owen family, kept hidden in the attic like a shameful secret.
To save his failing company, my father decided to sell me off to a repulsive, predatory investor named Grossman.
At the family dinner, Grossman's sweaty hands roamed my bare legs while my half-sister Kaleigh intentionally spilled red wine on my dress, laughing as she watched me suffer.
When I grabbed a steak knife to defend myself, my father slammed his fist on the table.
"Sit down, or I will cut off the maintenance payments for your mother's grave."
My stepmother and sister sneered, treating me like a piece of meat meant to be sacrificed for their luxury. I was starved, locked away, and treated worse than a stray dog, all while my family paraded their high-society status to the world.
I couldn't understand why they hated me so deeply, or who really ordered the hit that killed my mother twenty years ago. The police reports were buried, and I was entirely powerless, trapped in a house of monsters.
But they didn't know that the night before, I had accidentally stumbled into the secret life of Burleigh Livingston—the ruthless, supposedly paralyzed billionaire who was faking his madness.
When Burleigh suddenly crashed our family dinner and threw a limitless Black Card on the table to outbid Grossman and buy me for the night, I didn't hesitate.
I grabbed the handles of his wheelchair, accepted his twisted deal, and prepared to use the devil himself to tear my family apart.
8.7
I was trapped in a greasy diner by my own mother.
She was forcing me to marry my abusive cousin because he had paid her twenty thousand dollars.
To escape, I used a contract marriage app and begged a complete stranger to marry me at City Hall that very day.
Ethan drove a cheap Ford and wore a plain suit. I thought he was just an ordinary guy needing a fake wife.
When my mother found out, she brought thugs to destroy my flower shop—my only home and livelihood.
To protect Ethan from her endless extortion, I shielded him and screamed that he was bankrupt and drowning in credit card debt.
My mother fled in disgust, and Ethan took me into his apartment for the night.
But out of trauma and habit, I locked my bedroom door, muttering that he must be old and desperate.
He stormed out into the freezing night, leaving me terrified that I had ruined my only lifeline.
I didn't understand why he was so furiously offended, completely unaware that my "broke" husband was actually the most ruthless billionaire in New York, and I had just trampled his massive ego.
The next morning, his face was a mask of ice as he dragged me back to City Hall to annul the marriage and get rid of me.
"Annulment. Now," he demanded.
But the clerk just popped her gum and slid a pink paper across the counter.
"State law changed. Mandatory thirty-day cooling-off period."
8.6
To save my father's failing workshop from ruthless loan sharks, I sold one year of my life.
I signed a fake marriage contract with Cameron Fox, an icy billionaire who needed a wife to pacify his sick grandmother. The rules were strict: it was purely a commercial transaction, with absolutely no physical contact and no emotional attachments.
Soon after, that cold hearted man seemed different to me. Wait, is he pursuing me?
9.5
I joined a brutal wilderness survival reality show, playing the perfect role of a pathetic, uneducated girl from a trailer park.
I needed the five million dollar prize to fund my revenge against the wealthy family that drove my father to his death.
I played everyone flawlessly. I outsmarted the arrogant contestants, ruined a corrupt restaurant owner, and secured enough food to guarantee my absolute victory.
But just as I was dominating the game, a massive black helicopter landed in our camp.
The show's new billionaire sponsor had arrived, and he immediately ordered his tactical guards to confiscate every ounce of food I had earned.
My hard-won advantage was wiped out in seconds. The other contestants cheered, pointing at my empty hands.
"Take that, you greedy bitch!"
But the real nightmare wasn't the stolen food or the sudden rule change. It was the man who stepped out of the chopper.
Glenn Ryan. The ruthless CEO from my past life as an elite heiress.
He took off his sunglasses, his dark eyes locking onto my muddy shoes and frayed flannel shirt with a terrifying, obsessive smirk.
Why was he here? Why did he instantly target me the moment I started winning?
He didn't just know my true identity.
He had bought this entire game just to hunt me down.