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Love Turned to Ash: He Cheated Again, So I Took His Empire Novel Cover

Love Turned to Ash: He Cheated Again, So I Took His Empire

On her third anniversary, Audrey Lawson spots her husband, Adrian Griffin, with another woman. Instead of a confrontation, she discards the meal she prepared and signs divorce papers. Audrey once sacrificed her career for Adrian, secretly ghostwriting the award-winning designs that built his empire. Now, she is reclaiming her identity. After calling her old mentor to announce her return, Audrey prepares to take back the professional honors he stole.
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Chapter 2

When I returned to the Griffin Estate, the house felt hollow and silent.

Adrian hadn't come back yet. He was probably busy comforting that "frightened" cousin of Marcus's.

I walked straight into the study on the second floor.

Along the southern wall stood a floor-to-ceiling glass display case.

Inside were not antiques or paintings, but meticulously crafted architectural models.

They were miniature replicas of every landmark project Griffin Group had completed over the past five years.

They were also the product of my countless sleepless nights.

Adrian was the CEO of Griffin Group, but he didn't understand design.

Whenever a difficult client pushed back, or a bid reached a critical stage, he would come home and ask for my help.

"Sweetheart, help me. This project means everything to me. Only your design can win them over."

I was Audrey Lawson.

But I was also "L."

The elusive architect who had collected international awards without ever revealing her face.

For Adrian's pride, I chose to remain the woman behind him.

Every blueprint bore his name—or that of the Griffin Group design team.

He basked in titles like "business prodigy" and "visionary entrepreneur."

My eyes settled on the model at the very center of the display—Aether City.

I had given it to him during our first year of marriage.

Every brick, every tile, had been glued into place by my own hands.

Back then, the glue had blistered my fingers and exhaustion had left my eyes bloodshot, yet the excited kiss he gave me when he saw the model made it all feel worthwhile.

Looking back, it was nothing but a joke.

I opened the toolbox and took out a small hammer.

The metal head gleamed coldly under the light.

I opened the glass case and lifted Aether City into my hands.

It was still exquisite. Still flawless.

Just like the marriage I had painstakingly maintained—polished on the surface, rotten at its core.

The first strike shattered the spire.

A shard flew back and sliced across the back of my hand, leaving a thin line of blood.

I felt nothing.

The second blow split the base apart.

I swung the hammer again and again, my expression blank.

The models that symbolized honor, love, and five years of my youth collapsed into rubble beneath my blows.

Plastic fragments, splintered wood, and shards of glass scattered across the floor.

I stood in the middle of the wreckage, staring at the blood on my hands, and felt a twisted surge of satisfaction.

Destroy it all.

Let everything crumble.

If Adrian wasn't worthy of it, then I would take it back with my own hands.

Just then, the phone on the desk rang.

It was Adrian's mother, my mother-in-law, Helena Griffin calling.

I set down the hammer, took a deep breath, and answered the call.

"Audrey, are you home?" Helena's voice carried its usual air of condescension.

"Yes."

"There's a charity gala tonight, hosted by the Chandler family. Get ready and attend with Adrian. He says he's busy with company matters and can't pick you up. Drive yourself. Dress appropriately. Don't embarrass the Griffin family. I hear there will be important people there. Be smart and help Adrian make connections."

I looked at the wreckage covering the floor and let out a cold smile.

Busy with company matters?

He was busy keeping Marcus's "cousin" company.

"I understand."

After hanging up, I quickly cleaned and bandaged my hand.

The adhesive strip covered the cut, but it couldn't seal the hollow in my chest.

I walked into the dressing room.

Adrian had bought me countless clothes, mostly in soft pinks and whites.

He said he liked me looking like a princess.

I hated pink.

From the very back of the closet, I pulled out a black velvet gown.

I had bought it myself and never worn it.

The cut was sharp, the neckline daringly low, exuding a cold elegance that warned others to keep their distance.

I slipped into the gown, drew a sharp winged liner, and applied a bold red lipstick.

The woman in the mirror looked both familiar and unfamiliar.

The softness and eagerness to please were gone, replaced by a glint of something sharp.

I stepped into my four-inch heels, picked up my clutch, and walked out of the Griffin Estate.

Tonight, it was time to step into the real arena.

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