Neglected Wife: Hidden Heiress's Cold Revenge

The next morning, the library was a war zone of paperwork. Hayes sat behind his massive oak desk, surrounded by stacks of documents related to the transfer of a property deed for Felicity. He looked exhausted.

Eliana walked in. She held a tray with a single cup of black coffee. Her hand was bandaged, the white gauze stark against her black sleeve.

She placed the coffee on a coaster near his elbow.

"Morning," she said.

Hayes grunted. He didn't look at her hand. "Thanks."

Eliana pulled a thick stack of papers from under her arm.

"The quarterly reports for the family foundation," she said. "The accountants are chasing me. They need these signed by noon or we miss the tax filing window."

Hayes rubbed his temples. "Can't you just forge it? You usually do."

That was a joke. Or maybe it wasn't.

"Not for the IRS," Eliana said. "Just a few signatures. I tabbed them for you."

She placed the stack in front of him. She had arranged it masterfully. The top pages were boring, dense financial spreadsheets. She flipped through them quickly.

"Here," she pointed to a yellow sticky tab.

Hayes signed. Hayes A. Vargas.

"And here."

He signed again.

Eliana's heart was hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Her palms were sweating inside her bandages.

She flipped to the next tab.

This page was positioned so that the top half was covered by the previous document, folded over as if to keep the place. Only the signature line was visible.

It was the Waiver of Contest and Dissolution of Marriage.

"Here," Eliana said. Her voice was steady, practiced.

Hayes brought the pen down. The tip touched the paper.

From the hallway, a shriek pierced the air.

"Hayes! Hayes, help!"

It was Felicity.

Hayes jumped. His hand jerked, the pen skidding across the paper, creating a long, jagged line before he scribbled his name quickly.

"What happened?" Hayes yelled, dropping the pen.

He stood up so fast his chair tipped over. He shoved past Eliana. He didn't mean to shove her hard, but in his panic, he used his full weight.

Eliana stumbled back. Her hip slammed into the corner of the heavy bookshelf. A sharp pain shot down her leg. She gasped, grabbing the shelf for support.

Hayes didn't stop. He didn't even turn his head. He sprinted out of the room.

Eliana bit her lip to keep from crying out. She steadied herself.

She looked at the desk.

The paper.

She reached out with trembling fingers and pulled the document free from the stack.

There it was. Hayes A. Vargas. The signature was messy, trailed by a line of ink from his startle response, but it was there. It was legal.

Downstairs, she heard Felicity sobbing.

"I stubbed my toe! It hurts so bad! I think it's broken!"

Eliana closed her eyes for a second. A stubbed toe.

She heard Hayes's frantic voice. "I've got you. Let's get you to the car. We're going to the ER."

The front door slammed.

Silence returned to the house.

Eliana let out a breath she felt she had been holding for three years. She looked at the paper in her hand. It was more valuable than diamonds. It was her ticket out of hell.

She took her phone out and snapped a photo of the signature page. She sent it to Talia via an encrypted app.

Got it, she typed.

Talia replied instantly. You're free. Legally, you are a single woman. I'll file it with the clerk in an hour.

Eliana looked at the message. A strange smile touched her lips. It wasn't a happy smile. It was the smile of a prisoner who had just dug the last scoop of dirt from the tunnel.

She walked over to the desk. Hayes's phone was sitting there, forgotten in his rush to save Felicity's toe.

The screen lit up. A notification from Felicity.

Heart emoji. Thank you for being my hero.

Eliana stared at it.

She turned the phone face down.

"Not a hero," she whispered. "Just a fool."

She gathered the rest of the papers, the fake financial reports, and placed them neatly in the recycling bin. She folded the divorce agreement and slid it into the inside pocket of her blazer, right against her heart.