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The Ex-Wife He Betrayed Was a Hidden Heiress Novel Cover

The Ex-Wife He Betrayed Was a Hidden Heiress

Right after their class reunion draws to a close, Nicholas blindsides Mia with a sudden demand for a divorce. When Mia questions his devotion to a toxic woman from his past, he coldly admits his own flawed nature, claiming they are a perfect match. Instead of being devastated, Mia surprisingly accepts his decision with a laugh. A split suits her perfectly, especially since a new contender is already lined up and waiting to step into Nicholas's place.
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Chapter 1

The class reunion had just ended.

Nicholas turned to me out of nowhere:“Mia, let's get a divorce.”

I wasn't surprised:“Even if she's completely rotten, you still love her?”

He bit down on his cigarette and let out a low laugh:“You forget, I'm rotten too.”

Two rotten people. A perfect match.

I laughed, surprising even myself:“Fine.”

A divorce suited me just fine. Someone was already waiting to fill that spot.

……

Nicholas didn't seem to expect me to agree so easily.

But it lasted only a second before he pressed whatever flicker of feeling that was back down, and looked at me calmly:

“I'll have the papers sent over tomorrow. Everything that's yours, down to the last cent.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Nicholas!”

A voice came from behind us.

Georgia Simmons stumbled over, reeking of alcohol, and threw her arms around him. “It's been so long! All these years, did you ever miss me?”

He didn't push her away. He even slid a hand around her waist, and the look on his face was a tenderness I had never once seen in three years of marriage.

“Nicholas, you bastard, why won't you answer me?”

Georgia turned her hazy eyes on me, jabbing a finger in my direction.

“Nicholas, you actually like this goody-two-shoes? A woman like her is definitely a dead fish in bed. You and me, we used to do everything together. You're telling me you can really stand a dead fish now?”

Her voice climbed louder with each word, and then she lunged at me.

Nicholas caught her wrist, pulled her into his arms, and turned to me:“Sorry, she's drunk.”

I was still his wife at that moment. And his first instinct was to apologize to me on behalf of another woman.

I let out a small, self-mocking laugh:“It's fine. I don't mind. If there's nothing else, I'll head back.”

Nicholas gave a short “mm”:“I won't be coming home tonight. I'll come find you tomorrow.”

My feet stopped for half a step. I said nothing.

Back at the apartment, I stood looking at this place we'd shared for three years.

From the day we got our marriage certificate, when I was full of hope. To the first time we slept together, when he blurted out Georgia's name and all I felt was humiliation. To the night he was burning with fever and mistook me for her, and the hurt gave way to disappointment. And now, standing here, there was nothing left but numbness.

Ten years. Whatever Nicholas and I had been was finally over.

I let out a quiet laugh and walked into the bedroom to pack.

I didn't own much. One suitcase and it all fit.

After packing I lay down, expecting insomnia, but the moment I closed my eyes I was out.

I even dreamed, for the first time in ages, about the day I first saw Nicholas.

Every school has its celebrities. Nicholas James was the most famous one at Northbank High School.

Popular, top grades, and only one real flaw: he changed girlfriends constantly.

I hated guys like that back then. I even thought there was something wrong with every girl who liked him.

Until the day a friend dragged me to watch him compete in the long jump.

The crowd was packed, and I got shoved all the way to the front.

I was uncomfortable. I was about to leave.

Then, the next second, a jacket smelling of cologne landed right over my head.

I yanked it off in a panic and looked up into a cocky, roguish face:“Hey, hold my jacket for me?”

In that one moment, my heart nearly broke through my ribs.

From that day on, I had someone to secretly love.

When we chose our tracks in second year, I picked science, which I had zero interest in, just to be in his class.

I watched him cycle through one girlfriend after another. It hurt, but I had no right to say a word.

So I just did what every other girl did and kept writing anonymous love letters, one after another.

Then came the eve of the college entrance exams. I didn't want to leave with regrets, so I wrote one last letter, this time with my name on it, and went to find him to confess in person.

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