The Betrayed Wife's Spectacular Billionaire Comeback

"Are you out of your mind, Corina?"

Jayson's voice was a low, dangerous snarl. He crushed the unlit cigarette in his fist, the tobacco spilling over his knuckles, and hurled the mangled remains onto the stone floor. He looked at her like a predator whose territory had just been challenged.

"I have already explained this to you! It is a performance! Kate is a dying patient. She might not even live to see the sun rise next month, and you insist on choosing this exact moment to threaten me with a divorce?"

"Threaten?"

A hollow, self-deprecating laugh slipped past Corina's lips.

"Jayson, we have known each other for seven years, and we have been married for three. In all that time, when have I ever used anything to threaten you?"

She had always been the compliant one, the one who bent to accommodate everyone else. When his aristocratic mother, Eleanor, had made her life miserable with endless, petty criticisms, Corina had swallowed her pride and endured it in silence. When Jayson worked until the early hours of the morning, she was the one who always kept a warm light burning in the penthouse, waiting for him.

She had done it all because this man had once reached into the abyss and pulled her out. For that, she had willingly digested every ounce of grievance and pain.

But what had her endless understanding and compliance earned her?

It had earned her his absolute certainty that she would never leave him. It had given him the audacity to brazenly gather their family and friends, right under her nose, to throw a lavish, fairytale wedding for another woman.

"I am completely serious," Corina said, taking a deliberate step backward, physically severing the invisible tether between them.

As she moved, the intoxicating scent of cedarwood that had always clouded her judgment faded, replaced by the crisp, biting chill of the night wind sweeping through the corridor. The cold air cleared the last remnants of fog from her mind.

"Didn't you just say this was a fake wedding with no legal standing?" Corina looked at him, her eyes as cold and distant as if she were appraising a stranger. "If we get a divorce, you can march straight to the courthouse and sign the papers with her. That way, she won't just get a pretty ceremony; she will legally and truly become Mrs. Mccormick. Wouldn't that make her dying wish even more perfectly fulfilled?"

"Corina!" Jayson roared, cutting her off. A thick vein throbbed visibly at his temple.

"If you feel you've been wronged tonight, I will compensate you when we get home. Shares in the company, prime real estate-whatever you want, name it," he dictated, his tone laced with an overbearing, unquestionable authority. "But divorce? Don't even let the thought cross your mind."

"Jayson..."

A frail, trembling voice echoed from the far end of the stone corridor.

Kate had somehow managed to find them. She was struggling under the weight of the massive, crystal-encrusted skirt of her Vera Wang gown, her face ashen and completely devoid of color.

She leaned heavily against the rough stone wall, looking at them with wide, tear-filled eyes, the very picture of a tragic, helpless victim.

"Sister, please don't be angry with Jayson. It's all my fault..." Kate's voice broke, and tears began to cascade down her cheeks like pearls from a broken string. "I truly never intended to steal him from you. I... I just wanted to know what it felt like to wear a wedding dress. I know I don't deserve this, but I have so little time left..."

As she spoke, a violent fit of coughing seized her, her slender frame shaking so violently it looked as though she might collapse into a heap of tulle and lace at any second.

The color drained from Jayson's face. He closed the distance between them in three massive strides, sweeping Kate into his arms and supporting her weight entirely.

"Kate! The wind is too cold out here, why did you come out? The doctors explicitly said you can't be exposed to the cold!"

The raw, unfiltered panic and deep, aching tenderness in his eyes were expressions Corina had never, not once in seven years, seen directed at herself.

Kate rested her head weakly against Jayson's chest, her tear-stained eyes shifting to look at Corina.

Corina searched those watery pupils, looking for a shred of genuine guilt or apology. She found none. Instead, hidden beneath the sheen of tears, was a unmistakable glint of victorious mockery.

"Jayson, please, go comfort my sister. I'll be fine, I can walk back to the hall by myself..." Kate whispered, her voice breathy and weak, yet her fingers were locked in a death grip around the lapel of Jayson's pristine white suit.

Jayson shot a look over his shoulder at Corina, his eyes as hard and unforgiving as glacial ice. "Corina, do not make me view you as a cold-blooded, heartless woman."

His words were a physical blade, slicing through the air of the corridor and burying themselves to the hilt in Corina's chest.

Without waiting for a response, Jayson wrapped his arm tightly around Kate's waist. He didn't look back again as he hurried her toward the warmth of the VIP lounge.

The guests and family members who had been hovering near the end of the corridor immediately swarmed them, a flurry of anxious voices and reaching hands, fussing over the tragic, star-crossed couple.

As her parents and brother passed by, they shot Corina looks of profound disappointment and blame, as if she were a monster who had just tried to ruin Kate's one moment of happiness. Not a single one of them stopped to speak to her. They simply followed Kate, leaving Corina behind.

Corina stood alone in the cavernous, echoing corridor, her feet feeling as though they had been cast in lead.

The wind picked up, howling through the stone arches, whipping her long hair wildly around her face.

Her phone vibrated sharply in the pocket of her dress.

She pulled it out. It was a text message from her mother, Eliza:

[Corina, Kate is a pitiful child. Aside from us, she has no one else in this world, and now she is so terribly ill. Just treat this as doing a good deed. Step aside and let her have these last few days. Jayson still has you in his heart, ultimately.]

A good deed?

Corina stared at the glowing pixels on the screen, a wave of pure, nauseating absurdity washing over her.