Reborn and Betrayed The Billionaire's Ex-Wife Strikes Back

A man like that, I was certain, would become the greatest ally I'd ever have.

We met at a restaurant, and the conversation flowed effortlessly. Once we'd finalized the terms of our partnership, Stanley poured me a glass of red wine.

"To a fruitful collaboration."

I smiled and was just about to take a sip when the glass was snatched from my hand and hurled to the floor.

I looked up. Eugene stood there, his face dark as a thundercloud. Behind him, Sylvia wore a cocktail dress and an expression just as sour.

"Do you have any idea she's allergic to red wine?!" he barked at Stanley, then turned to me with a look of anguished betrayal.

"Rose, I heard you've been going on blind dates. But you shouldn't be throwing yourself at him just to get back at me!"

"Do you even know he's been to prison? How could you stoop so low—"

I raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

Across the table, Stanley's expression hardened. "Mr. Henson. If anyone's stooping low here, it's you and that little assistant climbing her way up beside you."

"And I'd love to know when exactly I went to prison."

I couldn't help but laugh. Stanley's supposed prison stint was something from my previous life, when I'd been nearly thirty. He'd been convicted of excessive self-defense while saving someone.

And besides...

My voice went cold. "Mr. Henson, you've got something else wrong too. The one who's allergic to red wine isn't me. It's the woman standing behind you."

"You've shielded her from drinks so many times. Don't tell me you've already forgotten."

Eugene's face cycled through shades of white and red.

I didn't bother with him any further. I grabbed Stanley's arm and we left.

The moment I got home, a text from Sylvia lit up my phone.

"Rose, could you please stop being so shameless? You're broken up. Stop throwing yourself at other women's men."

I scoffed and ignored it.

But the next morning, as I stepped outside for work, someone threw a bucket of filthy water right in my face.

"Disgusting tramp!"

By the time I'd cleaned up and rushed to the office, the project team was in shambles. The office had been ransacked. My colleagues sat around looking shell-shocked.

"Rose, clients are canceling their contracts left and right!"

"What happened?" I demanded.

A colleague showed me a viral post:

"My boyfriend and I are about to get married, but his ex-girlfriend keeps inserting herself. She's holding the company's core technology hostage, trying to stop our wedding. What do I do? I want to die..."

The comments below were a flood of abuse directed at me. Someone had doxxed my personal information too.

My colleagues asked me nervously what I planned to do.

I smiled coldly. Then I sat down and compiled every shred of evidence I'd gathered over the past six months documenting Sylvia and Eugene's affair. I organized it into a clean timeline and posted it online.

I tagged Sylvia directly: "My lawyers will be pursuing charges for defamation and cyberbullying."

I went all in. I didn't just post it. I paid to push it to the top of the trending topics, making sure their affair was plastered across every major feed.

Then I printed out the cease-and-desist letters along with the affair evidence and mass-emailed them to every single business partner connected to Eugene.

That evening, word reached me that Eugene had been summoned home by his family and given a beating.

They'd forced him to cut ties with Sylvia and ordered him to do whatever it took to win me back.

Eugene texted me, demanding I take down the posts immediately.

"Sylvia was just worried about me. That's the only reason she made that post. Why do you have to go after her like this?"

I blocked his number.

Meanwhile, my plans with Stanley moved steadily forward. One by one, the Hensons' clients agreed to work with us instead.

Now it was just a matter of time. Once everything was in place, Eugene would get the final blow he deserved.

But Eugene refused to let it go. He cornered me at a resort hotel.

"Rose! We need to talk!"

He grabbed my arm and dragged me into a room.

I wrenched free of his grip. "I have nothing to say to you."

"If you're here about Sylvia, you can leave right now. She started it. The only reason I haven't destroyed her yet is because I didn't think she was worth the effort. Don't mistake my restraint for inability."