The Billionaire's Forgotten Wife

Confirming my assets remained substantial brought a rare moment of satisfaction. Ignoring the throbbing ache in my limbs, I dragged my cast-encased left leg and right arm out the door. I had a company to inspect.

My peace was short-lived.

Asher's name flashed on my phone. The moment I answered, his voice lashed out. "What did you do to Jessica? I'm warning you, Leah—if she loses so much as a hair, I won't let you off."

"I'm sitting in my office drinking coffee," I replied flatly. "You're the one who took her on a cruise. If you lost your mistress, look in the mirror, not at me."

His tone dropped to ice. "Don't play innocent. You don't need to be present to orchestrate a murder, do you?"

Before I could retort, the office door crashed open. Men in dark suits swarmed in and seized me before I could make a sound.

The burlap sack was ripped from my head, blinding me with sudden light. I blinked—already on the cruise ship's deck.

Jessica huddled against Asher, her skin bruised and pale, trembling like a frightened doe.

"Asher, I'm terrified," she sobbed into his chest. "They tied my hands and feet... weighed me down with rocks and threw me in. If you hadn't come..."

So that was the narrative. Someone tried to drown her, Asher saved her, and I was the designated villain.

"I told you why I couldn't be there for your birthday," Asher spat, his eyes burning with disappointment. "She's never been on a cruise. She's waited years for this. How could you be so vicious?"

I met his glare without flinching. "I didn't touch her. What proof do you have?"

"Proof? We bought this ship together. Only two people hold the keys—you and me. Unless you're suggesting Jessica unlocked the doors for her own killer?"

I paused. The logic was tight, but the setup was obvious.

If he wanted a monster, I'd give him one.

I let out a low, chilling laugh. "You're right. It was me."

The admission froze the air. Both Asher and Jessica stared, stunned.

"Why wouldn't I? I'm jealous she's carrying your bastard. What if she tries to take my place?" My gaze drifted to her slightly bulging stomach, my voice dropping to a whisper. "As long as I'm Mrs. Vance, she is nothing. I only sank her this time. Next time..."

I let the threat hang, my eyes curving into a smile that didn't reach my soul. "I guarantee I'll make it one corpse, two lives."

"You lunatic," he breathed.

"She's just a cheap mistress," I sneered. "Does she really think getting knocked up earns her the throne? I have plenty more methods. Just wait."

Asher moved in a blur.

His hand cracked across my cheek, the sound echoing across the deck. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, forcing my head back. I glared up at him, face burning, refusing to show weakness.

Right. This is how it should be between us.

He slammed a document onto the table. "Sign it."

A divorce agreement.

I arched a brow. So much for the man who said "there is only widowhood, no divorce" this morning. He certainly changed his tune quickly.

I took the pen.

As the tip touched paper, a phantom pain squeezed my chest. Despite the amnesia, a bitter taste flooded my mouth—a reflex from a heart I no longer recognized.

The emotion flickered and died, replaced by a surge of relief. I signed with a flourish.

Clutching the agreement, I turned to leave. But Asher's hand clamped around my wrist like a manacle.

"You think you can leave that easily?"

"We're divorced. What more do you want?"

"Didn't you say you had plenty of methods?" His lips curved, but his eyes were ice. "Let's see how you handle mine first."

He gestured to his men. "Throw her into the sea."

My blood went cold. "Are you insane?" I screamed, backing away. "I have casts on my arm and leg! I'll sink like a stone!"

He didn't look back. He walked into the cabin, leaving me to his guards.

I wanted to fight, but with my limbs in plaster, I was helpless. Rough hands bound my wrists and ankles, tying a heavy stone to my legs.

As I struggled, Jessica approached.

The fragility was gone. Her posture straightened, and a triumphant smirk replaced her tears. She leaned in, breath hot against my ear.

"Sister, you've warmed the seat of Mrs. Vance long enough. It's my turn." She chuckled. "I was wondering how to get rid of you, but look at you—delivering yourself right to death's door."

"Do I hold a grudge against you?"

I didn't answer. A single, light shove, and I was falling.

Saltwater flooded my mouth and nose, drowning my scream. The ocean swallowed me whole—stinging my eyes, setting the fresh wound on my body ablaze. I thrashed, kicking and clawing upward, but the stone tied to my legs dragged me down like an anchor into the abyss.

Oxygen gone. Darkness closing in.

Just as consciousness began to fracture, a shadow eclipsed the faint light above. A tall figure dove through the water toward me. In the murky haze, soft, cold lips pressed against mine, forcing a breath of life into my burning lungs.