Seven Years of Lies,The Betrayed Wife's Billion-Dollar Revenge

Seven years of marriage, and on the day I finally got a positive pregnancy test, I drove to the airport myself to pick up the husband who'd been living in another city for three years.

I waited four hours for Piers Harding. He never showed. But the girl he'd been keeping on the side did.

"You're Piers Harding's assistant, right? Don't bother waiting. Your boss wore himself out in the early hours, and he's still overseas catching up on sleep. Just drop me off at the usual spot."

I accepted the role she'd handed me, held out my phone, and let her type in the address of a thirty-million-dollar villa in the suburbs.

The whole drive, she lounged against the leather seat, chatting with her best friend on speakerphone.

"Who says good looks don't matter? That sixty grand on surgery and implants was worth every penny, wasn't it? I've got this CEO wrapped around my little finger!"

"He didn't just give me three fully paid-off condos downtown. There's also a Lamborghini. And the best part? Once I graduate, he's sending me to Harbor City for grad school!"

"He even promised that if I get pregnant, he'll give me even more!"

When her friend pushed back, the girl pouted, smug as ever. "The devoted-husband act is obviously fake. His wife at home is nothing special."

Then, without warning, she aimed her phone camera straight at my face.

"See? Like this woman slaving away for Piers Harding. Past her prime, couldn't land a man if she threw herself at one, right?"

She nudged my shoulder. "Hey, am I wrong?"

——

I went along with it. Nodded.

Then I let my gaze drift slowly to her face. Christina Winfield. Very young, barely into her twenties.

Polished like a porcelain doll. Sixty thousand dollars well spent, by the looks of it.

She was still talking to her friend, not bothering to lower her voice one bit. "Don't forget, we've known each other for three years!"

"Besides, Piers is into educated women, right? His wife did some combined master's-to-PhD program? Well, when he came to give a talk at our school, he couldn't take his eyes off me the entire time. And that's because I was the top student representative."

Listening to the sweetness dripping from every word, my fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

That was when Piers Harding called Christina Winfield.

"You landed? Why didn't you coordinate with me before you left?"

What caught me off guard was his tone. He sounded like he was talking to a subordinate. Strictly business. Nothing about it suggested he was sweet-talking a mistress.

Less than a minute after the call ended, a phone buzzed again.

This time, it was mine.

Piers Harding's voice came through my Bluetooth earpiece, syrupy and tender, like an entirely different person.

"Hey, babe. Something came up last minute, a meeting I can't get out of. I really can't make it back today."

"Are you home yet? Have you eaten? How's your appetite been lately? When I get back, I'll make you that soup you like..."

But barely ten minutes earlier, another girl's boasting was still ringing in my ears.

"You haven't seen what he's like in bed. Completely different from that cold, untouchable act he puts on. A totally different man!"

A wave of nausea surged up from my stomach.

Not morning sickness. Something deeper than that. A revulsion rising from somewhere in my core.

I pulled out the earpiece and took a long breath.

That was when Christina Winfield shoved her phone in my face. On the screen was a message thread with Piers Harding.

"Hey, sweetie, your boss says to carry my luggage inside. Got it?"

I said nothing. Killed the engine and got out of the car.

I'll admit it was curiosity that drove me. I wanted to see their little love nest for myself.

The moment I pushed the door open, the place hit me with a wave of youthful energy.

Pink everywhere.

Stuffed animals piled on the couch. Anime figurines on every shelf and cabinet.

Instinctively, I looked for traces of Piers Harding. No houseplants, the kind he loved.

No wine cabinet. No cigar wall.

For some reason, I felt a small breath of relief.