The Billionaire's Ex-Wife Is A Queen

The SUV rolled onto the gravel driveway of the Hamptons estate. The massive iron gates closed slowly behind them.

Holly stepped into the foyer covered in Persian rugs. The butler immediately eyed her backless dress with a critical stare.

Crawford noticed the butler's look. His possessiveness flared. He took off his suit jacket and forced it over Holly's shoulders.

Holly tried to shake it off. Crawford lowered his voice and warned her that she was on the clock now and needed to cooperate.

They walked into the lavish dining room. At the far end of the long oak table sat Eleanor, his mother. She was taking a slow sip of red wine.

Eleanor set the glass down. Her cold eyes swept over Holly. She did not offer her a seat.

Crawford pulled out a chair for Holly. He sat down right next to her, trying to keep up the fake harmony.

Dinner began. The sound of silver forks hitting porcelain plates echoed sharply in the quiet room.

Eleanor wiped her mouth. She cut straight to the point. She demanded to know why there was no heir after three years of marriage.

She stated harshly that the prenuptial agreement had a strict heir clause. Holly was in breach of contract.

Holly's fingers tightened around her knife and fork. The mental pressure from the family matriarch felt suffocating.

Crawford took a drink of water. He tried to change the subject, mentioning the recent Wall Street mergers keeping him busy.

Eleanor cut him off without mercy. She threw a stack of tabloid photos onto the long table.

The photos scattered. They all showed Crawford frequently visiting the private rehab center to see Delphine.

Eleanor yelled at Crawford for being stupid. She accused him of dragging the family name through the mud for a crippled widow.

Crawford's face turned pale with rage. He slammed his hand on the table. He growled at his mother to stop insulting Delphine.

He lost his mind and argued back. He claimed Delphine was perfectly healthy. He said her medical reports showed she was completely fit to have children.

Those words hit the table like a bomb. The room went dead silent.

Holly felt her heart get crushed by an invisible hand. He was actually studying another woman's fertility reports.

Eleanor stared at her son in shock. Her body shook with anger. She told him he was out of his mind.

Holly suddenly let out a soft laugh. The sound was full of desperate mockery. It broke the frozen air.

She looked at Eleanor, her chin raised in defiance. Her voice was dead calm as she delivered her counterattack. "I am not a breeding machine," she stated coldly. "Perhaps the lack of an heir is simply nature's way of rejecting a completely loveless marriage."

Crawford heard those words. His jaw tightened so hard a muscle ticked in his cheek. A flash of complex, dark emotion-something heavily guarded and deeply buried-crossed his eyes, replacing his initial shock with a sudden, volatile burst of defensive fury.

He grabbed Holly's arm. His grip was brutal enough to snap her bone. He ordered her to shut her mouth.

Eleanor caught her son's unnatural reaction. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Holly ignored the blinding pain in her arm. She stared right back at Crawford. Her eyes were full of defiance.

She stood up abruptly. She ripped her arm out of his grip and threw her napkin on the table.

She stated coldly that her stomach was cramping and she could not sit through this absurd trial anymore. She turned and walked out of the dining room.

Crawford tried to go after her. Eleanor's sharp voice stopped him dead. She ordered him to sit down and explain himself.

Holly walked alone down the cold, dark hallway of the estate. Her stomach twisted in violent knots from the emotional crash. She leaned against the wall, breaking out in a cold sweat.