No Heir For The Cheating Billionaire

The gravel crunched under the tires of the Lincoln as it pulled up to the sprawling, brightly lit Jacobson family estate in the Hamptons. Before the driver could even open the door, flashes of light erupted from the manicured hedges. Paparazzi.

Cleveland got out and pulled Hadley from the car, his grip on her arm painfully tight. "Smile," he muttered under his breath.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, dipped her dramatically, and pressed his lips to hers. It looked passionate, a perfect photo-op. In this ruthless family, power was everything, but a flawless, devoted public image was the armor that protected that power. He would never let his rivals, especially Arron, catch him slipping or expose his private indiscretions to the world. To Hadley, it felt like a sickening violation, a cold, calculated performance designed only to maintain his pristine facade.

Inside the grand foyer, the air was thick with the scent of old money and simmering resentment. Theodore Jacobson Sr., the family patriarch, sat enthroned in a velvet armchair by the massive fireplace, an eagle-headed cane resting in his lap.

Cleveland led Hadley over to him. The old man's eyes, sharp and unforgiving, bypassed Hadley's face and went straight to her flat stomach.

"Still no news?" Theodore Sr. boomed, tapping his cane on the marble floor for emphasis. The nearby relatives fell silent, listening. "The trust has stipulations, Cleveland. A timeline. If the soil is barren, sometimes you have to find a new field to plow."

A few of the cousins snickered. The humiliation was a physical thing, a hot flush that spread across Hadley's chest. Her fingers clenched into fists inside the folds of her gown, her nails digging into her palms. She couldn't have children. It was a secret, agonizing truth that made his words feel like a public flogging.

Cleveland didn't defend her. He just smiled obsequiously. "We're working on it, Grandfather. I'm sure we'll have good news for you this year."

Hadley felt like she was suffocating. "Excuse me," she murmured, "I need some air."

She escaped the crowded room and walked down a long, cool hallway, pushing open a set of glass doors that led to the estate's conservatory. The night air was a relief. She leaned against the cool glass, breathing deeply, trying to stop the world from spinning.

"Tough crowd."

A voice from the shadows made her jump. Arron, Cleveland's cousin and chief rival, stepped out from behind a display of orchids. He held two glasses of champagne.

"My condolences," he said, his smile not reaching his eyes. "The old man can be a brute."

Hadley didn't take the glass he offered. "What do you want, Arron?"

He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a plain white envelope. He handed it to her. "A gift."

She hesitated, then took it. Inside were a dozen high-resolution photographs. Cleveland and Seraphina at a restaurant. Cleveland and Seraphina leaving a hotel. Cleveland and Seraphina on a private jet. At the bottom was a copy of a wire transfer receipt for ten million dollars-the purchase of a penthouse in Seraphina's name.

"Leak these to the press," Arron whispered, moving closer. "The scandal will tank the stock. The board will have to remove him. I'll use my family's votes to back your divorce settlement. You'll get everything you want."

He wanted her to be his weapon. A pawn in his own power grab.

Hadley looked from the photos in her hand to the predatory smile on Arron's face. He was no better than Cleveland. Just a different kind of snake.

She stuffed the photos back into the envelope and shoved it hard against his chest.

"I fight my own battles," she said, her voice cold as steel. "Find another fool to do your dirty work."