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His Unwanted Wife, The Billionaire's Obsession Novel Cover

His Unwanted Wife, The Billionaire's Obsession

To bury her daughter, she sells herself to a stranger for fifty thousand dollars. Returning home, she finds her husband Jace moving his mistress in—he doesn't even know their child is dead, still using medical bills to force her obedience. She lies about an STD and is thrown into the freezing Chicago night, her parents refusing her. Rescued by Blaise Hawthorne, Jace's most dangerous billionaire rival, she thinks she's safe until Jace tracks her down, demanding one final humiliation: serving his mistress at a gala. He expects the degradation to break her. Instead, she exposes his true love as a fraud before the city's elite, beginning her revenge.
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Chapter 3

Jace's grip tightened, his unease warring with his anger. "What are you smiling at?"

He yanked her toward him, and his eyes fell on her neck. The faint, purplish marks there, not yet fully formed, were unmistakable. They were not his.

His face turned to stone. Possessiveness and a white-hot rage erupted inside him. He considered Ellery his property. Even if he didn't want her, no one else was allowed to touch her.

"What is this?" he snarled, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. He grabbed her chin, forcing her head up. "Who were you with last night?"

The pressure on her jaw was immense, but the mockery in Ellery's eyes only deepened.

She looked at his handsome face, now twisted with fury, and found it utterly pathetic. He brought his mistress into their home and dared to question her.

Her disdain fueled his rage. He shoved her against the wall, his large frame trapping her. "Speak! What man had the nerve to touch what's mine?"

His hand moved to her collar, tearing at the fabric, searching for more evidence of her betrayal.

Her back slammed against the wall, the impact knocking the wind out of her. Faced with his violation, a desperate courage born of disgust rose in her chest. She had to do it. She had to make him so repulsed by her that he would let her go for good.

Just as his mouth descended toward hers, Ellery spoke, her voice eerily calm, almost pitying.

"Jace, do you really want to know?"

Her tone, so devoid of fear, stopped him cold. He stared at her, his breath hot on her face.

Ellery held his gaze. "I was with someone last night," she said slowly, enunciating every word. "For money. To pay for Lily's medical bills."

The words were a slap, and he flinched. He had always controlled her finances completely. The thought of her finding her own means was galling.

But she wasn't finished. She leaned closer, her lips brushing his ear, and delivered the final, devastating blow.

"And to get back at you and Darla," she whispered, the sound for his ears only, "I made sure he wasn't clean."

She paused, letting the implication sink in before twisting the knife. "Congratulations, Jace. We might both be sick. Something... difficult to treat. An STD."

His body went rigid. He shoved her away from him as if she were a vial of poison.

His ice-blue eyes were wide with a mixture of disbelief and utter disgust.

"What... did you say?" His voice trembled with a rage so profound it left him shaking.

Ellery leaned against the wall, watching his horror with a grim satisfaction that felt hollow and tragic.

"What's wrong? Don't you understand?" she continued, her voice still brutally calm. "I said, I might have a sexually transmitted disease. If you've touched me recently... oh, I'm sorry. I forgot. You only touch your 'true love,' Darla. But just to be safe, I'd recommend you both get tested."

Jace's control shattered. The thought of his perfect, pristine life being tainted by something so... sordid, so dirty, was more than he could bear.

He pointed a trembling finger at her, his lips moving, but no words came out. Only a choking sound of revulsion.

"Get out!" he finally spat, the words torn from his throat. He stumbled backward, away from her, and lurched toward the master bathroom.

The sound of violent retching echoed from behind the closed door.

Ellery knew she had succeeded. A narcissist with a pathological fear of imperfection like Jace could never tolerate such a stain.

She felt no triumph, only a vast, aching emptiness. She stood up straight, smoothing her torn collar with a steady hand.

She walked to her suitcase and calmly pulled up the handle.

Pausing at the bathroom door, she spoke to the heaving man inside. "Jace, my lawyer will be sending you the divorce papers."

Then, without a backward glance, she dragged her suitcase out of the room, out of the gilded cage that had imprisoned her for five years.

Downstairs, the staff stared at her in shocked silence, their eyes darting from her to the sounds of destruction coming from the upper floor.

Ellery walked out the front door into the blinding sunlight. It felt like a rebirth, and also like stepping off a cliff into a deeper abyss.

She pulled her suitcase down the long, manicured driveway, her silhouette solitary and unyielding.

Behind her, from within the Landry estate, came the sharp, explosive sound of expensive porcelain shattering against a wall. The sound of Jace's impotent rage.

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