After betrayed, I married the man in the Forbes

Ever since that run-in with Haven Peters at the downtown pub, Joshua West had holed up at his lakeside estate for a whole week, going through the motions of being the quiet, perfect trophy husband everyone expected. Between the occasional board meeting, he spent his nights drifting from club to club with his rowdy crew, drinking way too much until his stomach churned nonstop. So he told his assistant very clearly—order him something gentle to settle it, and under no circumstances was Haven to be the one to deliver it.

His assistant walked in carrying that dented old lunchbox Haven always used. Joshua leaned back in his leather armchair and unbuttoned his suit jacket, already craving something that would calm his roiling stomach. But when the lid came off, a thick, pungent wave of garlic hit him full force. His frown deepened. "Is this seriously today's order?"

"Yes, sir. Mrs. Chen from the estate just dropped it off. She left a minute ago," the assistant confirmed.

"Call her back," Joshua snapped, irritation sharp in his voice. The assistant, picking up on his bad mood, sprinted to call gate security to stop her before she pulled off the property. She was back in the room in under two minutes.

Joshua pushed the garlic-loaded bowl of oatmeal toward her, his eyes sharp with questions. "Did you make this?"

Mrs. Chen answered straight, "I did, sir."

"Who told you to change the recipe? What the hell is Haven even doing around here? She lives off my money, in the house I bought, and she can't even be bothered to get one meal right for me!"

Mrs. Chen held his gaze steady, no fear in her voice. "Mr. West, the allowance you give Mrs. Peters every month is only ten thousand dollars. That's not enough to cover the special meals you need for your bad stomach, not with how particular you are."

"You demand the freshest ingredients, imported seafood flown in from across the world, even the specialty spices for your oatmeal cost a small fortune," she kept going, unshaken by his icy glare. "Not to mention, Mrs. Peters does all your laundry, irons every one of your suits, and she even comes to pick you up and bring you home when you—"

Joshua's headache spiked, throbbing behind his eyes. "Enough. Just take it away and have Green Briar send over their oatmeal instead," he ordered.

The assistant nodded, and Mrs. Chen took her leave. But by the time the new order showed up, Joshua's stomach was cramping so bad it hurt to eat. He forced down two bites, but it didn't taste right, nothing like what Mrs. Chen had described of Haven's recipe. Frustrated, he tossed the whole thing in the trash.

The assistant, nervous about his black mood, inched back a step. "Mr. West, you really should eat something."

Tension coiled tight in his chest, Joshua dug through his desk drawer for his personal phone. Not a single missed call from Haven. That wasn't like her at all. Normally, if he vanished for more than a couple hours, she'd be blowing up his phone and searching every corner of the city for him. What the hell had she been up to this whole week?

What Joshua didn't know was that Haven had left town the day after that run-in at the pub. She grabbed her phone and her bag, boarded a plane straight to Hampshire, and made up her mind: she wouldn't speak to Joshua again, not until the divorce papers were signed and sealed.

"We're here, ma'am," the cab driver announced.

"Oh, just give me one second," Haven replied, pressing the doorbell of the detached townhouse in front of her.

The door swung open, and there stood Nelson Carlson in a crisp white suit. Haven would recognize that face anywhere from the pages of every finance magazine, but right now it was hard and shadowed with suspicion.

"What are you doing here?"

Haven dropped her gaze, nodding back at the idling cab behind her. "I ran out of cash. Can you cover my fare for now? I'll pay you back."

Nelson let out a cold, sharp laugh. The air between them turned frosty as he stepped out to pay the driver, and Haven slipped past him into the house.

Out of all her brothers, Nelson had always been the one who kept his distance… but he'd also always had her back, even when no one else did. When she cut off the whole family to marry Joshua against everyone's warnings, it split the family apart—and ostracized her from every social circle they'd ever known. Their father, Vicente Rivera, had been so furious he almost disowned her on the spot.

Now, standing in front of Nelson with that unreadable look on his face, she couldn't find the words to say. He turned his back on her as he walked further into the house. "I'm leaving a card on the entry table," he said. "Use it for a ride back to the city. Lock the door behind you when you go."

Haven's throat tightened, words sticking there. She'd cut off her whole family for Joshua, but she never expected that walking away from him would leave everyone here questioning if she was even sincere. After all, she'd spent years playing the devoted, loving wife.

She borrowed one of Nelson's spare cars and drove straight to the closest law firm downtown.

"You're absolutely sure you want to liquidate all your shares in West Enterprises?" Attorney Chan asked, his eyes wide at the number of shares, double-checking with her just to be sure.

"Any economic crisis this causes West Enterprises isn't my problem anymore," Haven replied, a soft, relieved smile tugging at her lips. "Yes. Liquidate every last one."

With Haven's clear, firm instructions, the attorney mobilized his network right away, arranging for the anonymous sale. In less than 24 hours, four hundred million dollars hit her personal bank account.

The rush of freedom hit her instantly. She transferred a million to a separate spending account and decided it was time to treat herself to the shopping spree she'd dreamed of for years.

She headed straight to the upscale downtown shopping district, took the private VIP elevator up to the top floor full of luxury designer brands, and started picking out everything she'd always wanted: stunning custom necklaces, perfectly tailored designer dresses.

As she stared at her reflection in the three-way mirror, her freshly blown-out curls cascading down her back, her skin glowing from that morning's spa day, she looked radiant. The dress she was trying on was a sleek spaghetti-strap number that showed off just enough of her soft, elegant shoulders.

"Wow, Mrs. Peters, you look even better than the runway model in this dress," the sales associate gushed.

"You really think so?" Haven asked, turning side to side to check the fit while the associate adjusted the hem for her.

"Absolutely! Your fair skin is made for this shade—it looks like it was sewn just for you," the associate added, grinning.

Months ago, she'd bought a similarly bold dress, hoping to surprise Joshua when he came home from a business trip. His first comment? A deep, disapproving frown. "We're married now. Why wear something this revealing? It's not practical for doing housework."

An unpaid maid. That's all she'd ever been to him, where practicality always came first, and elegance got thrown right out the window.

"Help me pick out five more just like this," Haven told the associate.

The associate's eyes lit up. "Of course! What price range were you thinking, ma'am?"

While Haven was treating herself to everything she'd missed out on, Joshua was getting crisis alerts nonstop in his downtown office. West Enterprises had been hit with a massive liquidity crisis, and he'd called an emergency board meeting right away. He'd been locked in his office for eight straight hours when the rumor hit him: Haven was the one behind it, the one who'd pulled the strings and convinced key investors to pull out. That was when he picked up his phone to call her for the first time all week… and all he got was that cold, robotic automated message: "We're sorry, the number you have dialed is currently unavailable…"