After betrayed, I married the man in the Forbes

Joshua West’s face was darker than a stormy midnight sky. Had Haven Peters really cut him off for good? "Any calls from her lately?" he pressed, urgency sharp in his voice.

"Yeah," his assistant answered, scrolling through the group chat. "Mrs. West tagged you in here."

Even the assistant could tell something was off about her behavior this time around. He hesitated before speaking up. "Joshua, aren't you gonna reply to Mrs. Peters?"

"Hell no!" Joshua snapped, flinging his phone aside in a fit of frustration. The company was tanking hard, and Haven’s silent, stubborn defiance was already wearing his last thread of patience thin.

Fine then, he thought darkly. Let's see who breaks first. Back home, Haven was just a housewife. What did she know how to do besides cook and clean? She couldn't survive a day without him. She’d be crawling back before long. Unlike her, he had other things to keep him occupied outside of work.

"Call Louisa Scott and the rest of the crew. Tell 'em we're going out for drinks," he ordered, already mapping out his night.

"They haven't come back from last time. They're still holed up at the hotel," the assistant mumbled, freezing under Joshua's piercing glare.

To Joshua, Haven would cave eventually. This was just a little phase. If he didn’t hold his ground now, she’d keep pushing the line further and further.

Meanwhile, after a long day out, Haven stepped through the front door, her brother Nelson Carlson right on her heels. Her hair was perfectly styled, her features so delicate she looked just like a porcelain doll.

Nelson’s jaw was set hard. "I gave you that money to leave town, not to primp up and go running back to Joshua West."

He already regretted handing her the travel cash.

"Who said I'm going to see him?" Haven dropped her purse on the sofa, kneading the knot out of her shoulders, and nodded at the credit card on the coffee table. "Here's your card back."

Nelson stared at the card—exactly where he’d left it last night. He picked it up, frowning. "You're not going back to him at all?"

She’d already seen the full extent of Joshua’s betrayal. She just shrugged, dodging any more questions, grabbed her necklace off the table, and headed for her room.

"I won't just sit around here doing nothing. I can handle chores and cook for us. What do you feel like eating for dinner tomorrow?" she offered.

"I’ll hire someone for that. You’re my sister, not a maid," Nelson said firmly, and caught the tiny flinch of her hand on the doorframe.

Had Joshua never hired help around the house? Had he never once stopped to realize none of that work was ever her responsibility?

"Get some rest," Nelson said softly, slipping the card back where he'd found it before heading to his own room.

That soft spring night, gentle rain tapped against the windows. Haven, exhausted from a full day of running errands, collapsed into bed and was out like a light. Across town, Joshua lay wide awake in his hotel room, his mind spinning even through the thick fog of alcohol. Earlier at the bar, he’d run into an old friend with connections to his investors, who’d dropped a bombshell about the company’s plummeting finances.

"Look, I promised Mrs. Porter I wouldn't say anything," the friend had slurred. "But I already pulled my investment, so I don't owe her no silence."

Joshua sobered up instantly. "Pulled your investment?"

Wait a minute—could the mysterious investor that bought up all those company shares not be some contact Haven introduced… but Haven herself?

The friend, drunk and rambling, kept going. "You’re such an idiot, man. Haven’s the most sought-after woman in this whole city. She’s got the looks, she’s got the family name—how the hell did you let her slip?"

"Living with her was just like living with my nagging mom," Joshua scoffed. "No spark after the first month."

But even with all that tough talk, the old memory of how Haven used to look at him, all soft and adoring, twisted something in his chest. Especially now that they were apart. He still didn’t believe she’d leave him for good.

What was really keeping him up, though, was the part the friend said about Haven pulling her own investment out… and there still being a mystery backer keeping the company afloat. Who the hell was that?

Joshua shot straight up out of bed, threw on his coat, and tore out of the hotel for the lakeside villa, desperate for answers about what Haven was really up to.

By the time he pulled up, it was dead late. The villa was dark, only a handful of soft lights glowing from inside. No matter how late Joshua came home, he’d always find Haven curled up on the sofa, wrapped in her favorite blanket, waiting for him.

"I’m home," he called out as he slipped off his shoes, his voice bouncing off the quiet, empty walls.

No answer. He loosened his tie and walked toward the sofa, fully expecting to find her napping there, like she always did.

Instead, all he found on the coffee table was a folded document, and her elegant black pen resting on top. The words *Divorce Agreement* blared up at him, sending a cold shock straight through his entire body. It hit him like a punch to the gut.

He remembered what the housekeeper had said, about Haven moving out. He sprinted down the hall to the bedroom and ripped the closet door open.

Inside hung all his neatly pressed suits and dress shirts… not a single piece of Haven’s clothes was left.

She was really gone.

A wild, unnameable rage surged up in his chest. He hurled the divorce papers aside and slammed the closet door so hard the walls shook.

"So you wanna play hardball, Haven? What the hell kind of game are you playing with me?" he growled to himself, jaw clenched. He refused to bend, refused to play her stupid little games. If she wanted a fight, he’d give her one, right to the end. "I don’t buy that you cut all the ties. You’ll be back here begging me to take you."

Even though Nelson kept insisting Haven shouldn’t lift a finger around the house, she was up before dawn the next morning simmering a pot of soup on the stove. Nelson woke up to the rich, warm scent drifting all through the house.

Haven was dressed in a brand-new designer outfit, her hair pinned up in an elegant twist, sitting at the kitchen table looking as calm and put-together as ever.

"Perfect timing, brother. Come get breakfast," she smiled, pouring him a steaming bowl of the fragrant broth.

Nelson sat down, sipping his soup, and eyed her with faint curiosity. "Are you ever planning to go back to the West family?"

He didn’t mean the West family that had raised Joshua—he meant the West family that had taken Haven in, her birth family. After being thrown aside for so long, she was finally home again, their cherished daughter, loved and protected for good.