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The Ex's Billionaire Boss Novel Cover

The Ex's Billionaire Boss

Following a devastating betrayal and a difficult divorce, Elena focuses on rebuilding her life. She lands a demanding role at a top firm, but her new boss is Marcus Thorne, the billionaire rival of her ex-husband. As they collaborate, their professional relationship shifts into a deep, mutual attraction. Now, Elena must handle corporate power plays and past emotional scars while pursuing an unexpected second chance at love with her former enemy.
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Chapter 1

Chapter One

Daphne’s POV

The picture fills the huge screen hanging on one corner of the boardroom, zoomed out to its max. Staring back at me is myself, taken a few days ago. I am in a beige trench coat, stepping out of the doors of our rival, Harlow & Pike.

And the picture was even taken from my bad side. Why do my cheeks look so swollen?

"This," Tatiana Chase drawls, her perfectly manicured nails pointing at the screen, "is what the gossip columns have all been talking about today.”

Her voice is so smooth, laced with the right amount of concern and worry enough to sound believable to those who don’t know her.

And I doubt that anyone really knows her on the board.

Around the glass table, eyes stare at one another, and their lips move in a buzz. I might as well not be present, because as they scribble notes and give their opinions, no one looks directly at me.

Not even my husband.

Tatiana moves to the next slide. It bears pictures from social media threads and news headlines, all bearing my name and picture with shocking titles.

“The Future of Black Financial Empire rocked by a scandal.”

“Stock of the Black Financial Empire drops after picture of heir’s wife emerges.”

Sharp. Cutthroat.

"As you can see," she continues, her nail still in view, "the picture has travelled far and wide over the face of the internet, and now, our investor confidence is taking the most hit. In the last forty-eight hours alone…"

The chairman of the board and the CEO of the Black Financial Empire, Charles Black, who also happens to be my father-in-law, slams his hands on the table. Tatiana doesn’t jerk like me. Instead, a sly smile spreads on her face as she turns away from the screen, placing a hand on her waist.

She never looks out of place, not even on the worst days when we have to be at the office around the clock. This is an emergency meeting, yet she still manages to look like she just strolled out of a fashion magazine.

"We've lost fourteen million in market value," Charles roars, hitting the table again. "Just because my son's wife decided to visit our enemies and sit at the same table with them."

I begin to shake my head. “I…”

“I don’t want to hear a word from you!” he snaps, sending a shiver down my spine. “You have done enough damage.”

“But…”

“Zayne, if you don’t get your wife to shut up, I will. And trust me when I say it won’t be pretty.”

My husband shakes his head firmly at me, and the words in my throat die. I have a lot of things to say. For one, I was sent there by Tatiana herself to check their quarterly filings. Charles himself left the instruction that I have to do whatever she tells me to.

And now…

My lips part open again, and this time, Zayn’s fingers come down hard on my arm, pinching me. “Don’t say a word,” he murmurs. “Just swallow it, okay? No one wants to know what you have to say.”

I have made it a duty not to contradict my husband in public, especially because I know how hard he has been trying to please his father.

So, I stay put, folding my hands in my lap, just like I always do.

I tell myself this will pass, just like all the others. But something deep down tells me that it is different.

“Zayne,” Charles yells, shifting his anger to his son. “Explain why you are still married to the woman who jeopardizes a firm I and my fathers have laboured over for a whole century. She’s just a total waste of space.”

I shift uneasily in my seat as everyone turns to look at me. This is really not happening, is it?

"She hasn't given you an heir, she can't open her mouth to say anything reasonable in a board meeting, and worse, she's a blockhead. An empty chair with a pretty dress. How do we keep funding something like this?"

I want to say that I am right here with them in the room. That I can hear everything, and it doesn't feel nice. A flicker of heat finds its way to my neck, and I scratch at it.

But my expression remains neutral as I count one to ten in my head.

"Father, I told you that…" Zayn begins to say, before he is cut off.

"I warned you not to get married to her, didn't I?" his father continues. "Perhaps, Tatiana was the better choice after all, and you just threw her away. If she hadn't discovered this on time…Maybe you're a blockhead too."

Tatiana leans back in her seat and winks at me, a smirk on her lips that she doesn’t bother to hide. She’s untouchable here. She always has been.

"Turn off the screen, please, honey," Charles murmurs to her before addressing the board again. "I propose that we vote to remove Daphne Riverra-Black from any roles in the empire and remove her access to all our confidential data immediately. The press will come for our necks if we do not act now.”

The table moves immediately, as hands rise in the air. They don’t even hesitate, like they have been waiting for this moment.

And just like that, I am no longer a member of the board or the empire at large. I am now a full-time housewife.

Tatiana clicks her tongue suddenly. "This is what happens when the wrong person is given a seat at the table. You should learn from this, Zayn, before something worse happens in your marriage. That is, if it isn't already happening."

Zayn looks at me sharply, anger slowly filling his eyes. “Let’s go,” he mutters, his chair scrapping the ground loudly as he steps out of the conference room, even when it hasn’t been adjourned.

Leaving me no choice, I get up as well, tailing after him. We don't say a word to each other in the elevator or the car. By the time we pull into the private garage beneath our apartment building, I am already almost hyperventilating.

My husband reaches for the back seat and retrieves a brown envelope, tossing it at me.

“What is this?”

“Divorce papers. Sign them.”

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