The Unwanted Wife Is A Zillionaire

The heavy door burst open. The security alarm blared for two seconds before being violently deactivated.

Julian, August's cousin, swaggered into the foyer. A thick, foul-smelling cigar hung from the corner of his mouth.

Behind him, a dozen movers in gray uniforms pushed heavy metal clothing racks into the apartment. The racks were loaded with designer dresses wrapped in plastic.

Elisa stood dead center in the hallway, blocking their path.

Julian blew a cloud of smoke directly into her face. He looked at her chopped hair and her cheap suitcase, and let out a loud, barking laugh.

"Move it, sweetheart," Julian sneered, waving his hand at the movers. "Take this stuff straight to the master bedroom."

Elisa shot her arm out, pressing her palm flat against the chest of the lead mover. "Stop."

She glared at Julian. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Julian smirked, tapping his cigar ash onto the pristine marble floor. "These are Allena's new clothes. August told me to move them in. It's time for the useless trophy wife to clear out and make room for the real deal."

Elisa felt a flicker of absolute disgust, but her heart rate didn't even spike.

Julian mistook her silence for fear. He stepped forward and shoved his hand toward her shoulder to push her out of the way.

Elisa twisted her torso, dodging his hand. She planted her feet, swung her right arm back, and slapped him across the face with everything she had.

CRACK.

The sound was as loud as a gunshot.

The movers froze. The apartment went dead silent.

Julian stumbled back, his cigar falling from his mouth. He clutched his rapidly swelling red cheek, his eyes wide with shock.

"You crazy bitch!" Julian screamed, spit flying from his lips. "I'll have security throw you off the balcony!"

Elisa calmly reached into her pocket, pulled out an antibacterial wipe, and slowly cleaned her right hand.

"Until a judge signs the divorce papers, I am the legal owner of this property," Elisa said, her voice chillingly calm.

Julian lunged forward.

Elisa pulled out her phone and hit a speed-dial number. She put it on speaker.

"New York City Charity Foundation, how can we help you?" a cheerful voice answered.

"This is Mrs. Chambers," Elisa said loudly, her voice echoing off the high ceilings. "I need to schedule a massive estate donation. Yes, the entire contents of the penthouse. What is your earliest availability for an assessment and full removal? Tomorrow morning at eight? Perfect. I'll have the service elevator locked down for your crew."

Julian froze in his tracks. His jaw dropped. "You're bluffing."

Elisa smiled coldly, ending the call and tossing her phone into her purse. She walked over to the kitchen island and tapped her fingers on the smooth marble. "I've already signed the digital release. They will be here first thing tomorrow to strip this place down to the drywall. Until then, you and my dear husband can enjoy the final hours of this museum of lies."

Julian screamed, his face turning a violent shade of red. "Stop! You can't do this! Those antiques cost millions! My cousin bought those!"

Elisa tilted her head, her gaze entirely devoid of pity. "Marital assets. Consider it a tax write-off for the family's rotting soul."

Julian stood in the middle of the opulent living room, shaking with rage, completely powerless against her legal authority over the marital property. He looked around at the million-dollar paintings and custom Italian leather sofas, a sickening dread washing over him as he realized they would all be hauled off to a thrift warehouse by sunrise.

Elisa tossed the dirty antibacterial wipe into the empty trash can right next to Julian's foot.

She grabbed her suitcase and walked past him. She paused at the door, looking at the racks of Allena's clothes sitting in the empty, echoing hallway.

"Enjoy the ruins," Elisa said.

She walked out and let the door slam shut.