The Ex-Wife's Ultimate Billionaire Revenge

"You're really wearing that?"

Rachel stood in the doorway of my hotel suite, staring at the dress like it was a loaded weapon.

It was silver silk, sewn with four thousand diamonds. Real ones. It caught every light in the room and threw it back twice as bright.

"It's a party," I said. "People wear dresses to parties."

"People wear dresses. You're wearing a chandelier." She handed me my clutch. "The Carver Logistics ten-year gala. Top floor of Halden Tower. Every reporter in the city will be there."

"Good."

"And Mia will be there."

I fastened my earring. "Even better."

---

The elevator doors opened on the fortieth floor, and the room went quiet.

Not all at once. It rippled. A champagne glass paused halfway to someone's lips. A man in a tux stopped mid-sentence. Heads turned, then turned again, the way people do when they think they recognize you but can't believe it.

"Is that Clara Quinn?"

"The ex-wife? I heard she was broke."

"Broke women don't wear Valentino couture, darling."

I walked through the crowd without slowing down. Five years ago, these same people had watched me leave this city in a borrowed coat. Now they stepped aside to let me pass.

Then I saw her.

Mia stood near the ice sculpture in a pink gown, her pearls in place, her smile frozen. When she spotted me, the smile cracked for half a second before she glued it back on.

She was already walking toward me.

"Clara!" She spread her arms wide, loud enough for the whole room. "Oh my God, it's been forever. I almost didn't recognize you."

"That's the point of a glow-up."

Her eyes flicked over my dress, then my diamonds, then my face. Her fingers tightened around her champagne flute.

"You look... expensive," she said. "Who's paying for all this? A boyfriend? A sugar daddy?"

"Me."

"Sure." She laughed, sweet as syrup, and leaned close. A small crowd had gathered. She noticed. She raised her voice. "I'm just so glad you're doing okay. After everything. I mean, it must have been so hard for you. Getting thrown out in the rain like that because you couldn't give Liam a baby."

Someone behind her gasped.

Mia pressed a hand to her chest, all fake sympathy. "I hope you've found peace with it, Clara. Some women just aren't built to be mothers. It's not your fault. It's just nature."

I smiled at her.

Then I slapped her.

The crack echoed off the glass walls. Her head snapped sideways. Champagne splashed down the front of her pink gown.

The room froze.

Mia touched her cheek, her mouth hanging open. "You... you hit me."

"I did."

"In front of everyone!"

"That was the idea." I shook out my hand. My palm stung. It felt wonderful. "You want to talk about nature, Mia? Let's talk about nature."

I looked past her shoulder. Ethan stood near the dessert table in his little navy suit, holding a nanny's hand, chocolate smeared on his chin.

"Your son is cute," I said. "Really. He's got that look, you know? Big ears. Low forehead. Sort of like a monkey that hasn't finished evolving yet."

"How dare you!" Mia's voice went shrill. "He looks exactly like Liam!"

"Does he?" I tilted my head. "Funny. I was married to Liam for three years. I don't remember him looking like that."

For one second, real fear flashed in her eyes. Pure and naked.

Then she burst into tears.

"Liam!" she wailed. "Liam, she attacked me!"

I didn't wait for him. I turned and walked away while the whole room whispered behind me.

---

I found the hallway near the restrooms empty and quiet. I leaned against the wall and let my shoulders drop for the first time all night.

"Clara."

My spine went stiff.

Liam stood at the end of the hallway. Five years older. A little gray at his temples. His tux was perfect, but his eyes were hungry in a way I remembered too well.

"Shouldn't you be with your crying wife?" I asked.

"She's fine. Her mother's with her." He came closer. Too close. "I had to see you."

"You've seen me. Goodbye."

I moved to pass him. He put his arm out and pressed his palm flat against the wall beside my head, trapping me in the corner.

"Look at you," he said quietly. His gaze dragged down my body and back up. "God, Clara. You're stunning. You were always beautiful, but this... this is something else."

"Move your arm."

"I made a mistake." His voice dropped low and soft, the voice he used to use when he wanted something. "I know that now. Mia, she's... she's not you. She's shallow. She spends my money and cries when I'm late. You were the one who built me, Clara. You were the one who believed in me."

"I remember. I also remember the rain."

He flinched. Just barely.

"I was stressed," he said. "The company was struggling. I said things I didn't mean."

"You said a woman who can't have kids is just a roommate. Which part didn't you mean?"

"All of it." He reached up and brushed a strand of hair off my cheek. "We could start over. Quietly. Nobody needs to know. I'd take care of you this time. I swear."

His thumb touched my jaw.

My skin crawled.

I put both hands on his chest and shoved. Hard. He stumbled back into the opposite wall, his shoulder knocking a framed photo crooked.

"Don't touch me," I said. "You smell like her perfume."

His face turned red. "Clara, I'm trying to fix things here—"

"You want to fix something?" I stepped closer, close enough to watch his pupils shrink. "Go home and check your son's blood type."

He blinked. "What?"

"You've never looked, have you? Five years, and you never once checked."

"Why would I check his blood type?" His voice cracked at the edges. "What the hell are you talking about?"

I smoothed down the front of my dress. Four thousand diamonds caught the light.

"You're the CEO, Liam. Figure it out." I walked past him. "Idiot."

I didn't look back. But I heard him behind me, standing alone in that hallway, breathing too fast.

At the end of the corridor, Rachel was waiting by the elevator, her phone pressed to her ear and her face pale.

She lowered the phone when she saw me.

"Clara," she whispered. "The property group just called back about the building. You're not the only one trying to buy Halden Tower."

"Who else?"

Rachel swallowed hard.

"Someone signing as N."