The Jilted Wife's Ruthless Wall Street Return

Adriene gripped the backup phone tight against her ear. She kept her voice low, her words coming out in rapid, icy clips as she explained the night's events to Kaia.

Through the speaker, Kaia was screaming. She called Dallin every filthy name in the book, her voice shaking with rage. "I'm calling the best divorce lawyer in New York right now," Kaia promised.

"Make sure the divorce papers are disguised as commercial trust documents," Adriene instructed, her tone completely steady. "Dallin can't suspect a thing."

She hung up the phone and shoved it back into its hiding place. She walked over to the large bay window and stared out into the pitch-black estate grounds. She took a deep, slow breath, trying to steady the racing of her heart.

Suddenly, a high-pitched, agonizing squeal pierced the silence of the night. It came from the direction of the glass greenhouse in the backyard.

Adriene's chest violently contracted. Her breath caught in her throat. It was Max. The purebred Golden Retriever her father had given her before his bankruptcy. Max was the only living thing in this massive estate that actually loved her.

She didn't even think about the bleeding cut on her leg. She ignored the sharp pain shooting up her calf, grabbing a heavy wool coat and snatching a heavy metal flashlight from the desk, and sprinted out of the bedroom. She ran down the dim corridors, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood floors, her limp turning into a desperate, uneven run.

She shoved open the side door leading to the gardens. The freezing wind hit her face, carrying with it a thick, metallic smell. Blood. Adriene's breathing turned ragged.

She stumbled across the wet grass, her legs shaking, and reached the glass doors of the greenhouse. She flicked on the flashlight. The beam cut through the darkness and hit the center of the room.

Adriene's brain short-circuited.

Max was lying in the middle of the rare white orchids. His stomach had been sliced wide open. Thick, dark blood soaked the pristine white petals. His chest was completely still.

Adriene's knees hit the dirt floor. The flashlight slipped from her fingers, rolling away and casting crazy shadows against the glass. She reached her trembling hand out, her fingers hovering over Max's fur, but she couldn't bring herself to touch his cold body.

A wave of grief so heavy it felt like physical pressure crushed her lungs. But before the first sob could rip from her throat, the opposite door of the greenhouse burst open.

Elaina stood there in a thin, white silk nightgown. She looked at the dead dog, threw her hands over her mouth, and let out a deafening, theatrical scream of absolute terror.

The scream shattered the quiet of the estate. Within seconds, the heavy footsteps of bodyguards and staff echoed across the lawn. Flashlight beams bounced wildly as people flooded into the greenhouse.

Elaina collapsed into the arms of a terrified maid. She pointed a shaking finger straight at Adriene. "She did it!" Elaina sobbed, her words tumbling out in a panicked rush. "Adriene lost her mind! She killed the dog!"

A collective gasp sucked the air out of the room. The staff stared at Adriene, their eyes wide with fear and deep disgust.

Adriene slowly pushed herself off the dirt floor. She didn't look at the staff. She looked straight through the crowd, locking her eyes onto Elaina's face.

Elaina was crying, but Adriene saw it. Right beneath the fake tears, Elaina's eyes were shining with a sick, twisted excitement. She was enjoying this.

Adriene didn't scream. She didn't defend herself. A single, hot tear of pure rage cut a path through the grime on her cheek. The grief didn't vanish; it crystallized into something harder, colder. A promise. Her mind became terrifyingly clear. The sheer magnitude of her hatred pushed her brain past the initial shock and into a hyper-focused state of calm.

She let her eyes sweep over the scene, using the scattered beams of the flashlights to scan every inch of the space.

Then, she saw it.

Down at the very bottom hem of Elaina's white silk nightgown. A single, tiny, bright red drop of fresh blood.

Adriene didn't react. She smoothly pulled her gaze up, and the corner of her mouth twitched into a slow, chilling smile. It was a smile so devoid of humanity that Elaina actually flinched, taking a tiny step backward.

The head butler stepped forward, reaching out to grab Adriene's arm. "Mrs. Morales, please come with me. We need to wait for Mr. Morales to deal with this."

Adriene violently slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me," she commanded. Her voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the room like a whip. "Nobody touches anything. Keep this scene exactly as it is."

The raw authority radiating from her froze the entire room. Even the butler stopped dead in his tracks, too intimidated to move.

Adriene turned around. She took off her heavy wool coat and gently, respectfully draped it over Max's mutilated body, hiding the gore from view.

She stood up and walked slowly toward Elaina. She didn't stop until she was standing inches away, invading Elaina's space.

Adriene leaned in. "You made a fatal mistake," she whispered directly into Elaina's ear.

Elaina's face lost a fraction of its color. She tried to maintain her innocent act, letting out another pathetic whimper and shrinking back.

Heavy, furious footsteps pounded against the stone pathway outside. Dallin's massive frame filled the doorway of the greenhouse. His chest was heaving, his face dark with absolute rage as he marched toward them.