The Cruel Billionaire's Unwanted Perfect Wife

The shrill alarm clock shattered the silence of the bedroom. Ellery jolted awake. Her heart was racing from a nightmare she couldn't remember.

She reached her hand across the mattress. The sheets on Holland's side were cold. He had left hours ago.

She glanced at the clock and gasped. She was thirty minutes late.

Ellery rushed through her morning routine. She pulled on a high-necked silk blouse to hide the faint bruises on her collarbone. She grabbed her purse and ran down the grand staircase.

Goldia was sitting in the formal living room, sipping tea from a bone china cup.

"You are late," Goldia said without looking up. She tapped her long fingernail against the saucer. "Not only are you failing to provide an heir, but you also lack basic discipline."

Ellery stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She kept her head down. "I apologize."

"If you don't have good news by the end of this month, I will make a single phone call to the landlord of your building and have your lease shredded before noon. Half of your high-end fabric suppliers rely on the Sutton family's shipping lines. Care to guess who they will choose to do business with?" Goldia threatened, taking a sip of her tea.

Ellery gripped the strap of her purse tightly. She didn't say a word. She turned and walked out the front door.

When she arrived at TT Couture, she pushed the glass doors open and walked into her private office.

Her best friend and business partner, Ira Saunders, was sitting on the edge of Ellery's desk. Ira's face was red with anger.

Ira slammed a glossy tabloid magazine onto the desk. Next to it was a stack of printed screenshots from a private Instagram account.

"Look at this," Ira demanded.

Ellery looked down. The headline of the tabloid read: SUTTON HEIR DROPS MASSIVE CHECK TO PACIFY EX-LOVER.

Ira pointed to the screenshots. "My private investigator managed to get into Crystal's locked social media circle. She posted a picture of a cashier's check from Holland's private account, bragging about it to her little friends. He wrote Crystal a check for five hundred thousand dollars yesterday afternoon. After you canceled her card, he just bought her off!"

Ellery stared at the string of zeros. A bitter, hollow laugh escaped her lips. Holland had defended her in public, only to secretly pay off his mistress behind her back.

She pushed the magazine away. She walked over to her drafting table and started organizing a pile of silk fabrics.

Ira stared at her in disbelief. "Are you not even angry? He is humiliating you!"

"I don't have the right to be angry, Ira," Ellery said. Her voice was completely flat. "I am just a tool. As long as he pays my mother's hospital bills, he can write checks to whoever he wants."

Ellery picked up Crystal's order form from yesterday. "I'm still going to make her lingerie. The commission is too good to pass up."

Ira snatched the fabric out of Ellery's hands. "You are letting them turn you into a robot! You need to hire a lawyer, gather evidence of his cheating, and divorce him!"

"I can't," Ellery whispered, her voice finally cracking. "Hayward will let my mother die."

Suddenly, the intercom on the desk buzzed loudly.

"Ms. Garza," the receptionist said, her voice shaking. "Crystal is outside with three of her friends. They are trying to get in."

Ira's eyes flashed with pure rage. She slammed her hand down on the intercom button. "Lock the front doors. Do not let them in."

Ira marched out of the office and walked straight to the front glass doors. Crystal was standing on the sidewalk, glaring through the glass.

Ira stood right in front of Crystal. She raised her hand and flipped Crystal off with her middle finger.

Crystal screamed something through the thick glass and stomped her foot, but she couldn't get inside.

Ellery watched Ira defend her. A small, warm feeling bloomed in her frozen chest.

Ira walked back into the office. She pointed a finger at Ellery. "If you don't start fighting back, I am done being your friend. I mean it."

Ellery looked down at her cell phone resting on the desk. The screen lit up with a notification from her university alumni group chat.

The message was from Kyle Calderon.

I'm back in New York. Let's catch up.