The Billionaire's Last Wife

Sofia Wolfe ran barefoot through the rain. Her breath tore through her chest as branches clawed at her arms and wet leaves slapped against her face. Behind her, the massive iron gates of Wolfe Manor loomed through the darkness.

Eleven months and nineteen days. That was how long she had survived as Mrs. Drevian Wolfe.

She had been counting, every single day, every night and every hour she had spent wondering if she would become another photograph hanging in the west corridor.

Another woman whose name people whispered about before lowering their voices. Another Mrs. Wolfe who never made it out alive.

A branch snapped somewhere behind her, and Sofia stopped.

Her heart lurched. For one terrible second, she couldn't breathe. The rain poured over her, soaking through the thin dress she had escaped in. She turned slowly, staring into the darkness between the trees.

She saw nothing else but the storm, the wind, and the towering walls of the estate behind her. In that moment, she forced herself to move.

The road was ahead. She could see it now. A pair of headlights cut through the rain.

"Stop!" she screamed.

The car sped past.

"No!" Sofia ran after it.

The driver must have heard her because the red brake lights flashed, and the car stopped. Sofia reached it seconds later and grabbed the door handle with trembling hands.

"Please."

The driver stared at her through the rolled-down window.

She must have looked insane. Her hair was plastered to her face, her feet were bleeding and mud had stained her dress.

"Please," she said again. "I need you to take me somewhere."

The driver looked past her toward Wolfe Manor and his expression changed.

Sofia noticed.

"Don't look there."

"What happened to you?" The driver asked.

"Please."

"Where are you going?" She hesitated.

For the first time since she had escaped the house, fear took a different form. This time, it was not the fear of being caught but of what came next. She looked over her shoulder again.

The gates were barely visible through the rain.

"They'll find me if I go home."

"Who?"

Sofia opened her mouth…then stopped. Because she didn't know who to name. She had spent months trying to figure that out.

Was it Drevian? His family? Someone inside Wolfe Manor?

Or someone who had been watching them all from the beginning?

Her hand tightened around the small object hidden in her palm.

The driver frowned. "Miss?"

"St. Vincent's." Her voice was low.

"What?"

"Take me to St. Vincent's Hospital." The driver's eyes widened slightly.

"You're injured. I should take you to a hospital, but perhaps one closer..."

"No." Sofia grabbed the edge of the window. "St. Vincent's."

"Why?" Sofia looked back toward Wolfe Manor one final time.

A flash of lightning tore across the sky. For a brief second, the manor stood illuminated behind her.

"Because if I'm right," she whispered, "it didn't start with me."

The driver's expression hardened with concern.

"Get in." Sofia climbed into the backseat.

The door shut and the car pulled away.

She kept staring through the rear window as Wolfe Manor disappeared into the rain. She should have felt relieved. Instead, a sickening certainty settled in her chest.

She had escaped, but she had left someone behind.

Someone who didn't even know she was in danger.

Two Weeks Later

Eliana Hart stared at the newspaper in front of her. Then she read the headline again.

MRS. DREVIAN WOLFE DISAPPEARS AFTER MONTHS OF SECLUSION

She reached for her coffee. It was cold but she drank it anyway. Across the table, Ivy snatched the newspaper from her hands.

"You've been staring at that story for ten minutes."

"I haven't."

"You have."

Eliana looked up. "I was reading."

"You read like you're preparing to testify in court."

Eliana ignored her and reached for the paper. Ivy pulled it away.

"Who is she?"

"Who?"

"The woman you're obsessed with."

"I'm not obsessed." Ivy lifted a brow.

Eliana sighed.

"Sofia Wolfe."

"Yes, I can read." It was now Eliana’s turn to raise her brows.

"Then why did you ask?"

"Because I want to know why you've been staring at a picture of a billionaire's missing wife like you've been personally assigned to solve the case."

Eliana leaned back in her chair.

The café was crowded for a Tuesday afternoon. Students occupied the tables near the windows, laptops open in front of them. Somewhere behind the counter, a blender whirred.

There were simply ordinary sounds and ordinary people.

Eliana looked back at the newspaper. Sofia Wolfe's wedding photograph filled half the page.

She was beautiful, dark-haired and elegant. Smiling beside Drevian Wolfe, the billionaire businessman whose face seemed to appear in newspapers almost as often as his companies did. But it wasn't the photograph that interested Eliana. It was the article.

Sofia Wolfe had vanished from the Wolfe estate nearly two weeks earlier.

No statement from her husband, no official explanation, no confirmed sighting. Just silence and that baffled her.

And according to one unnamed source, she had left behind her jewelry, passport and phone.

Eliana tapped the newspaper.

"She didn't leave."

Ivy blinked. "What?"

"At least not the way they're making it sound."

"Eliana."

"Her passport was left behind."

"So?" Ivy sighed.

"So if you're planning to disappear, you take your passport."

"Maybe she didn't."

"Her phone too?"

"Maybe she wanted to disappear without anyone tracking her."

"Her jewelry?" Ivy paused.

Eliana pointed at the article.

"That woman is worth millions now. Her wedding ring alone probably costs more than my entire house."

"That's depressing."

"She didn't pack. She ran." Ivy stared at her friend.

Eliana frowned at the paper again.

"I think she was escaping."

"From Drevian Wolfe?"

"I don't know." Ivy leaned forward.

"Well, I do know one thing. If I were married to a billionaire who lived in a mansion the size of a small country, I wouldn't be running away barefoot in the rain."

"Who said she was barefoot?" Ivy's eyes narrowed.

Eliana looked down at the article. There was no mention of bare feet.

Only that Sofia had disappeared.

"I didn't say she was."

"You literally just did." Ivy said with a squint.

"I meant figuratively."

"There is no figurative version of being barefoot."

Eliana folded the newspaper.

"You need a hobby." Ivy grinned.

"I had hobbies."

"Past tense?" Eliana watched as her friend scoffed at her.

"I was busy."

"Doing what?" Eliana stared at her.

Ivy's smile faded.

"Right."

The answer was obvious. She had hospital bills, debt collectors, her father's medication and the mortgage payments she had been pretending she could somehow catch up on.

Eliana picked up her coffee again. It was still cold and bitter, much like her life lately.

Her phone buzzed on the table causing her to look at the screen. It was another missed call from an unknown number.

She silenced it and it didn’t go unnoticed by her best friend.

"Who keeps calling you?"

"No idea." Eliana shrugged.

"Shouldn't you find out?"

"If it's important, they'll leave a message."

"They've called seven times today." Ivy chuckled.

"Then they're committed."

"Eliana." She waved a hand.

"I'll deal with it." But she knew exactly who it probably was.

It was either another bank, creditor or another person about to tell her that she was running out of time. The thought of it made her chest tightened.

She pushed the phone facedown. Ivy watched her, worry evident on her face.

"You know you can ask me for help."

"Ivy."

"I'm serious." She insisted.

"And I appreciate it."

"But?"

"But you work three jobs and live with your sister." Ivy frowned.

"I could still help."

"I know."

That was the worst part.

Eliana knew her friends would help if they could. But everyone had their own lives, their own bills, their own problems. She was tired of becoming another person's responsibility. She had spent enough of her life being responsible for everyone else.

Her father, the hospital, the bills, the house. She was tired. She just couldn't afford to stop.

The bell above the café door rang. Eliana barely looked up, then Ivy went silent.

That alone made her glance toward the entrance. A man in a charcoal suit stood just inside the café.

He didn't look lost. Instead, he looked as though he had come exactly where he intended to.

His gaze moved through the room, and finally stopped on Eliana. She straightened as the man approached their table.

"Ms. Hart?" Ivy's hand immediately moved toward her phone.

Eliana gave her a look. The stranger smiled politely.

"Eliana Hart?"

"Who wants to know?"

"My name is Adrian Cross."

Eliana waited, expecting him to continue. He remained standing.

"And?"

"I represent Wolfe Holdings."

For a moment, she thought she had heard him incorrectly.

"Wolfe Holdings?"

"Yes." Ivy's eyes widened.

Eliana slowly glanced at the folded newspaper on the table. Then back at him.

"What does Wolfe Holdings want with me?"

Adrian placed a black folder on the table.

"May I sit?"

"No." Ivy turned to Eliana.

"What?"

"Absolutely not." The man remained standing.

That somehow made the moment worse. Yet, Eliana crossed her arms.

"I don't know you." She retorted.

"No, you don't."

"Then start explaining." She said, eying him. Adrian looked at Ivy.

Eliana followed his gaze.

"She's staying."

"I assumed she would."

Ivy smiled. Eliana did not.

Adrian, ignoring Eliana’s cold attitude, opened the folder.

"We've conducted a background review."

Eliana stared at him.

"A what?"

"Routine research." Adrian emphasized.

"You researched me?"

"Yes." Her stomach tightened.

"Why?"

He turned a page.

"Eliana Hart. Twenty-six. Former employee of St. Vincent's Hospital. You left after your father's condition worsened."

Eliana went still, and Ivy's smile disappeared.

Adrian continued.

"Your father has required ongoing treatment for the past three years."

"Stop." He looked up.

"You have approximately sixty-eight thousand dollars in outstanding medical and personal debt."

"Stop talking." Eliana snapped.

"You are also behind on your mortgage."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Adrian Cross." Adrian answered, a smile etched on his face.

"I know your name."

He closed the folder. For the first time, something almost human flickered across his face.

Regret.

"I apologise for the intrusion."

"Do you?" Eliana scoffed.

"Yes."

Eliana leaned forward.

"Then tell me why a billionaire's company has my father's medical history."

Adrian's expression changed… slightly. But Eliana saw it.

"What did you just say?" she asked.

His eyes settled on hers.

"I didn't say we had your father's medical history."

There was silence as Ivy looked between them. Eliana's heart began to beat faster.

Adrian reached into his jacket and removed another envelope. This one was cream-coloured, and thick even. He placed it on the table.

"I have an offer for you."

Eliana stared at it.

"What kind of offer?"

"One that would settle your father's medical expenses."

She didn't move.

"Your mortgage." Her throat tightened.

"Your outstanding debts."

Ivy slowly sat back.

Eliana's fingers curled against the table.

"And in exchange?" Adrian held her gaze.

"Nothing illegal."

"That's not reassuring." A faint smile appeared on his face.

"It shouldn't be."

Eliana looked at the envelope again.

"How much?"

"Ten million dollars."

Ivy choked on her drink. Eliana, on the other hand, didn't react.

At least, not visibly.

Ten million dollars.

It wasn't a number, it was a life.

A house saved. Her father's treatment.

It would mean no more calls, no more pretending everything was fine when the hospital asked for another payment, no more choosing between groceries and medication.

Her pulse pounded in her ears.

"What do I have to do?" Adrian looked toward the newspaper, the one with Sofia Wolfe's face on it.

Then he looked back at Eliana, and something cold moved through her.

"Mr. Wolfe wants to meet you."

Eliana's eyes narrowed.

"Why?"

Adrian pushed the envelope closer. Inside was a contract.

Eliana looked down at the first page. Her name had already been typed onto it.

Below it was a single line.

Proposed Marriage Agreement.

Her breath stopped.

Ivy whispered, "Eliana."

Adrian watched her carefully.

"Mr. Wolfe has a proposition."

Eliana slowly raised her head.

The newspaper lay beside the contract. Sofia Wolfe smiled up at her from the page.

Missing and unexplained. Possibly running from the man whose representative was now standing in front of her.

Eliana looked back at Adrian.

"What kind of proposition?"

His answer came quietly. But it changed everything.

"Mr. Wolfe wants you to become his wife."