Watch The Jilted Ex-Wife Take Everything

The sun rose, but for Kaelynn, the night had never ended.

She hadn't slept. Instead, she'd sat in the dark, the images from the folder replaying in her mind on a torturous loop.

Yet, when she looked in the mirror, she saw a woman of unnerving composure. Her face was pale, her eyes shadowed, but her hands were steady as she fastened a pair of simple diamond studs.

She chose a charcoal gray sheath dress and black pumps. Armor for the battle ahead.

Downstairs, the housekeeper, Martha Walsh, was setting out a single place for breakfast. The older woman's kind face creased with worry as she saw Kaelynn.

"Mrs. Underwood, you're up early. Can I get you some coffee? You look..."

"I'm fine, Martha. Thank you," Kaelynn said, her smile feeling brittle and foreign on her lips. She couldn't eat. The thought of food made her stomach clench.

She was walking toward the grand foyer, her purse in hand, when the screech of tires on the gravel driveway shattered the morning quiet. A black sedan stopped abruptly, and the driver's door flew open.

Jolie Price, Dane's executive assistant, emerged like a storm cloud. Her heels clicked an angry rhythm on the marble floor as she marched into the house, her face a mask of contempt.

"Miss Browning，" Jolie spat the name, stopping directly in front of Kaelynn. "I didn't think you'd be so desperate."

Miss Browning.

Yes, it’s not Mrs. Underwood, but Miss Browning.

Jolie thought Kaelynn was just another one of Dane's dalliances.

It was a well-known secret at The Underwood Corporation that the CEO kept a beautiful, quiet woman in his Greenwich estate.

No one knew they were married. Dane had insisted on keeping their union private, for "business reasons."

At first, Kaelynn was confused about this. But out of love for Dane and not wanting to affect his career, she chose to compromise.

Now, Kaelynn understood the real reason.

Kaelynn looked at her, her expression unreadable. Jolie was young, ambitious, and notoriously territorial over Dane. "Jolie. I don't believe we had an appointment."

A humorless laugh escaped Jolie's lips. "Don't play dumb. The news last night. You leaked it, didn't you?"

Kaelynn's mind raced. News?

Jolie saw her momentary confusion as guilt. She pressed on, her voice a low, vicious hiss. "The pictures of Dane and Candyce are all over the gossip sites! Did you really think a cheap trick like that would make him get rid of her?"

Kaelynn suddenly understood what had been released. The anonymous source hadn't just sent the files to her.The other person cheated her out of some money, and then they'd sent a curated selection to the media. The affair was public.

This is really terrible. She had planned to use this method to get back what belonged to her and then leave this place. But now, she has no chips left.

But from what Jolie said, it seems like that child isn’t made public yet, at least not for now. Perhaps this is a breakthrough.

"Jolie, I have no idea what you're talking about," Kaelynn said, her voice perfectly even.

Jolie sneered and thrust a folded copy of the New York Post at her. The front page was a grainy photo of Dane and Candyce at the restaurant. The headline screamed: "Billionaire's New Belle?"

"You think this makes you special?" Jolie's voice was laced with a jealousy so raw it was almost pathetic. She'd been in love with Dane for years. "He's just playing with you. He'll get tired of you, just like all the others."

Kaelynn's gaze drifted past Jolie to Martha, who stood frozen by the dining room entrance, her face a mixture of shock and concern. This was happening in her home. This employee was humiliating her in front of her staff.

A switch flipped inside Kaelynn. The hurt, the grief, it all receded, replaced by a glacial calm.

She met Jolie's furious glare. "Jolie Price," she said, her voice soft but carrying an undeniable weight. "On what authority are you questioning me?"

"I'm Dane's executive assistant!" Jolie puffed out her chest, a ridiculous display of borrowed power.

Kaelynn took a slow, deliberate step forward. The five-foot-ten assistant suddenly seemed small.

"And I," Kaelynn said, her words precise and cutting, "am Dane Underwood's wife. Mrs. Underwood."

She slowly extended her finger, and a ring symbolizing Mrs. Underwood came into Jolie’s sight. It was a ring that every woman in high society desired. Jolie wanted it even more, so she knew it was real.

The color drained from Jolie's face. Her jaw went slack. She stared at Kaelynn as if seeing her for the first time. The expensive but understated dress, the quiet confidence, the wedding band that she'd never noticed before. It all clicked into place.

"You... you're married?" Jolie stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

Kaelynn didn't bother to answer. She turned her head slightly toward the housekeeper.

"Martha, please show Miss Price out. And inform security that she is not to be permitted on this property again without my explicit permission."

The authority in her voice was absolute. Martha, recovering from her shock, immediately stepped forward. "Miss Price. This way, please."

Jolie's face burned with humiliation. Julie’s face burned with humiliation. But then, as if something occurred to her, a cruel smile appeared on her lips. She straightened her shoulders, and narrowed her eyes into dangerous slits.

“Enjoy your ring, Mrs. Underwood. Enjoy this house as well. Keep playing the role of the perfect, quiet wife. Because things won’t end so easily. And by then, I won’t be as polite as I am today.”

She let the threat hang in the air for a moment, then turned and left.

The moment the front door closed, the rigid control in Kaelynn's posture dissolved. A tremor ran through her, and she leaned a hand against the wall for support.

Martha rushed to her side. "Ma'am, are you alright?"

Kaelynn shook her head, pushing herself upright. "I'm fine, Martha. Please have the car brought around. I need to go out."

Her eyes fell on the newspaper Jolie had dropped. She picked it up, her fingers tracing the smiling face of her husband with his mistress. The photo was a fresh stab of pain, but it also fueled the fire that was now burning in her gut.

This changed things. She had to move faster.

She pulled out her phone and sent a text to Audrey.

Plan has changed. On my way now.