Chapter 01I served my husband divorce papers at his brother's funeral.
He took a slap from his father to defend another woman—the one I suspected of murder.
What he never knew: I'd seen him pleasuring himself to her photo.
So I disappeared.
I came back as a world-renowned medical genius, CEO of a pharmaceutical empire—
and the woman every elite wanted: F1 racers, hockey stars, Hollywood icons, politicians, billionaires.
Now he's on his knees, begging for a forgiveness I'll never give.
Because today, I'm marrying the world's most mysterious billionaire.
But when my ex sees the handsome, magnetic groom smiling at me from the altar—
his world collapses.
How is his dead brother standing there?
Elara’s POV
On our wedding anniversary, I finally learned the truth everyone seemed to know: my husband's heart belonged to another… his brother's wife.
That day, I'd flown to his city, dressed to kill, my heart fluttering with a stupid, hopeful anticipation. I was imagining the surprise on his face.
But the surprise was all mine.
I heard them arguing, his voice and his friend's——
“You’ve got to be kidding me! You’re still not over Amelia? She was your brother’s wife! For her, you bail on Elara every anniversary? That’s disgusting.”
“Well, whose problem is that?” he retorted, utterly unfeeling. “If I didn’t leave, Amelia would get it into her head that Elara and I were actually doing something. She’d be devastated. And just so you know, Elara’s still a virgin.This marriage has never been consummated."
“How can you treat Elara like this… Aren’t you afraid her brother Gavin will make you pay?”
A dismissive snort escaped him. “He won’t. They cut ties right after we got married. It’s been three years.” He added with a mocking smirk, “No one thinks Elara is unhappy. Not even she does.”
I stood frozen outside that door, my breath catching in my throat.
A memory, sharp and sudden, surfaced: Before the trip, I’d confided in Amelia about my troubles with Zane.
She had simply smiled and said, "Go on. Give your husband a surprise. I'm planning a little surprise for his brother, too."
In that moment, standing in that hallway, I felt like the biggest fool on earth.
When I stumbled out of the building, the sky had opened up. A cold, relentless downpour drenched me instantly.
I took a red-eye back to New York that night and fell ill the moment I got home.
I was sick for three days straight.
Three days later, the news hit: Ethan Grayson—Zane’s older brother, the golden heir to the Grayson empire—was dead.
A wingsuit accident. In the Swiss Alps.
They say Amelia convinced him to fly over the Alps with her. But something went wrong during the flight.
By the time they brought him to the hospital, it wasn't for treatment. It was for reconstruction.
The Grayson family's fury toward Amelia was a storm waiting to break.
I stood by and watched my husband defend her at all costs—he even took a slap across the face from his own father for it. And I was powerless to stop him.
Worse, I couldn't tell a soul that after I woke up from that high fever, I got a text—from the dead Ethan Grayson.
Absolute calm was required. I had to execute my plan.
The funeral ended. I started the car. Then, the rear door flew open.
Zane, tall and elegant in his tailored black suit, looked uncharacteristically awkward. "Elara," he said. "Are you heading home?"
"Yes," I replied.
As soon as I did, I saw her. Amelia, standing beside him, with a boy around four years old in tow—Max, her son with Ethan.
He was a round-faced boy, but his eyes held a sharp, calculating look that didn't belong on a child. It was a pure, undisguised disdain——
the spitting image of his mother. There was absolutely nothing of his late father, Ethan, in him.
Before I could even process it, Max had barged into my car and commanded, “Aunt Elara, take me and Mommy home now!”
I frowned and shot a look at Zane.
He pressed his thin lips together. “My parents… they’re still furious with Mia. So, she and Max will be staying with us for a while.”
Sensing my refusal, he quickly added, “Haven’t you always said you wanted kids? Think of this as a perfect chance to practice with Max, alright?”
…
What a perfect reason.
So, he wanted me to chauffeur his lover Amelia and her son home while he alone faced his angry parents? Right after his brother Ethan died because of Amelia?
…Fine. I’d do what needed to be done. Arguing with this madman was pointless. He was going to regret this.
Back home, the guest room was ready—Zane must have called ahead. I took a long, scalding shower and collapsed onto the bed, falling into an exhausted sleep.
I woke up at 9 p.m. My phone buzzed the moment I picked it up. Chloe’s name flashed on the screen.
“I’ve drafted the divorce papers per your instructions,” her voice was crisp and professional. “Should I send them over for you to review?”
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Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Things are just getting interesting. See you in the next one!
Chapter 02
"Good." My voice was hoarse but calm. "Don't email it. Have the papers delivered."
"That's sudden. Are you sure?" Chloe, my lawyer, sounded concerned. "Look, Zane's a terrible husband, but—"
I switched on the lamp, my eyes clear. "We haven't had sex once in three years. I thought he had no desire. Then I caught him getting off to pictures of another woman. Still think I'm being rash?"
The line went silent.
"That bastard," she finally hissed, her tone turning cold. "I'll deliver them myself. Then I'm working late."
After hanging up, I sat frozen on the bed. I hadn't expected to say it like that, either. I guess some humiliations just fester until they spill out.
Who would believe I was still a virgin after three years of marriage? I'd even wondered if he had a problem.
But the truth was worse. I'd seen him in his study, an album in his lap, his hand moving underneath. His choked gasps felt like slaps across my face.
Once, he noticed me and pulled me into a tight embrace. "Elara, I'm sorry," he'd whispered against my neck. "I'm afraid I'll hurt you. I can't bear to touch you... I can only... look at your pictures like this."
Absurdly, I'd believed him. I'd even blushed.
But the night I flew back to New York, feverish and desperate, I'd pried open his locked cabinet.
That album was filled with pictures of Amelia. My sister-in-law. Ethan's wife.
Every smile was a treasure to him. And I was the punchline of a joke I never agreed to be in.
But I'm done playing along.
I hadn’t expected Chloe to move so fast.
I’d just finished washing up and hadn’t even gone downstairs when the doorbell rang. The urgency suggested that if the courthouse weren’t closed, she’d have dragged me there to finalize the divorce immediately.
I had just taken the thick envelope of divorce papers, feeling a strange sense of settlement, when a sharp crash came from upstairs.
Before I could react, the maid, Mary, hurried down, her face troubled. “Ma’am…”
“What happened?”
"I'm so sorry to report this, ma'am, but Young Master Max... he had an accident with the family portrait in your bedroom."
I thought it was just the frame. But what Mary handed me was an old photograph, torn into several pieces.
My face instantly lost all color.
This was the only photo I had with my parents from before I was five. After they died in the accident, this picture of the three of us was all that remained—my most precious, my only keepsake.
Clutching the torn fragments, I turned and strode upstairs.
I ran right into Amelia coming out of my bedroom, holding Max.
My voice was ice. “Amelia. You went into my room.”
She looked utterly composed. “Zane said this will be Max’s home from now on.”
Max looked up defiantly and shouted, “Uncle Zane said he’ll take care of me and Mommy, just like Daddy did!”
Looking at Amelia, seeing she had no intention of correcting him, I suddenly smiled lightly.
I crouched down to Max’s level. “You know Christmas is only a few days away, don’t you?” I asked, my voice soft. “Do you know what Santa Claus does to naughty little boys?”
Max nodded proudly. “He brings me lots and lots of candy!”
I shook my head, my smile gentle but edged with danger. “Wrong. He cuts off the hands that broke my picture and bakes them in the oven to feed to the monsters.”
“Wahhhhh—!!!”
Max, just a child after all, burst into terrified tears and buried his face in Amelia’s neck.
Amelia frowned, looking at me with displeasure. “He’s just a child. You didn’t need to scare him like that.”
I remained utterly expressionless. “If you can’t handle teaching a child basic manners, what can you do besides ‘risk’ your life in a wingsuit?”
Chapter 03
Amelia froze. For one terrifying second, her eyes flashed with something dark and utterly unhinged—a look that sent a cold shiver down my spine.
"Who gave you the right to bring that up?"
She glared at me, her eyes sharp with pure rage. It felt less like a question and more like a threat, the words gritted through her teeth.
"Elara, my advice? Don't go poking the bear. Or do you really want to find out how that'll work out for you, sweetheart?"
I held her gaze, my own voice dropping low and steady. “That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you remember one thing: I’m the lady of this house.”
With that, I turned and went back to my room, shutting the door decisively behind me.
Late that night, the sound of an engine purred in the courtyard. A black Maybach slid smoothly into the garage. Standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, I watched the car door open. Max happily pulled Amelia toward Zane. The three of them stood together, looking indistinguishably harmonious. Like a family.
A few moments later, A little while later, the doorbell to my room rang. Zane entered.
“What did you say to him, Elara?” His voice was low, strained. “The kid’s hysterical, sobbing about monsters. He just lost his father. Was any of that necessary?”
“Yeah,” I said, my voice flat. I pointed to the nightstand. “He ripped up my family photo. The only one I had.”
Zane froze for a second.
He reached out like he was going to touch my hair, some half-baked gesture of comfort. I jerked my head back. Seeing me still pissed, his tone got all soft and placating.
“My fault. I’ll make sure Max apologizes too. Okay? Look, I’ll make it up to you. Whatever you want.”
I looked up at him and felt a cold smile twist my lips. “Anything?”
“Name it,” he said, nodding, already looking relieved. Like this was just another problem he could throw money at.
“Then I want these two things.” I handed him the two documents I’d been holding.
He glanced at the first one—a property transfer deed. Didn’t even blink. Just scrawled his signature across the bottom. No hesitation. When it came to paying people off, he was always generous.
For the second document, he didn’t even bother reading it. Just flipped straight to the last page and signed with a flourish, like he was too important for the fine print.
Once he was done, he let out this sigh, like a huge weight was off his shoulders. Then he slid his arm around my waist and pulled me into his chest. “Elara,” he murmured, his voice all smug. “How did your brother manage to raise you to be so… understanding?”
The touch made my skin crawl. I was about to shove him off when there were two quick knocks on the half-open door.
The second it swung open and Zane saw who was there, his arms unlocked. He didn’t just let me go—he pushed me away from him. Like I was something contagious.
It took me a second to process the shove. Then it hit me. Of course.
To prove his loyalty to his true love, he could go three years without laying a hand on his own wife. Now, with her living under the same roof, he couldn’t risk being caught in anything that looked even remotely intimate.
At the door, Amelia stood looking all sweet and concerned. “Zane, Max is asking for you. He says he can’t sleep without you.”
“I’ll be right there,” he told her, his voice dropping into that gentle tone he never used with me. He glanced back at me. “You’re… not mad, are you?”
“Of course not,” I said, my voice even.
The moment he turned and left, I pulled out the second document he’d signed without a second thought.
The divorce agreement.
I guess I really was well-behaved and understanding. I’d even done him the courtesy of drafting the papers myself and handing them to him personally.
The next morning.
My internal clock dragged me awake. The moment I drew back the curtains, a solid sheet of white glared back at me.
The forecast hadn't called for snow.
But this first snowfall was a heavy one, blanketing everything as far as I could see. Even through the glass, I could feel the bitter cold seeping into the room.
I’d just pulled on a knit dress and was halfway through washing up when a god-awful racket erupted from downstairs. It sounded like someone was tearing the damn place apart.
"Mary, what's going on out there?"
I casually pinned up my long hair and pushed my door open. I didn't even get the whole question out before I stopped dead.
