The Billionaire's Unwanted Ex-Wife

Evelyn's povOur marriage was convenient but he reminded me of that everyday till it became my personal mantra. All my life, I had dreamed of a fairytale wedding — a Taylor Charming who loved me, a life where I felt loved. But life isn't a fairytale, and happy endings? They're not real. If they were, I wouldn't be running from my own family. My breath misted in front of me as I sprinted past the water fountain. The summer air in New York shouldn't be this cold, but chills ran down my spine. Each step felt like a countdown. My mind screamed at me that I was making a mistake but I couldn't stay here for another second. Not with them. Not after what they had done.“Evelyn, don't you dare walk away from me!” Micheal yelled behind me but I didn't stop. I couldn't. If I turned around, I would lose whatever pride I had left. “No!” I shouted without looking back. I reached the estate’s gate where two security guards stationed there

Micheal's povBy the time I woke up, the house was unusually quiet. Something was off. I could feel it. “Evelyn?” I called out as I climbed down the staircase. No response. Maybe, she was in her room. I turned back and entered the hallway that led to her room. “Evelyn?” I called out again. There was no response.Was she sleeping in? But it's 7am and the Evelyn I know wakes up before the crack of dawn to prepare breakfast. Was she taking a longer time to get up? Or was she dead? She did look beat up last night.“Evelyn?” I knocked on the door. When there was no response, I lost my patience. “That's it! I'm coming in whether you like it or not!” I pushed the door open and was taken aback. The room was empty. The bed was stripped bare, her wardrobe doors were left ajar, revealing only empty hangers. Her shoe rack was empty even though the vanity was bare. Not a single Evelyn was in this room. It was

Sarah pov I pulled into the driveway, the tires of the car crunching against the gravel as I made my way to the parking lot. My hands were clenched tight around the steering wheel, fingers gripping it like I could strangle the truth out of it. I was shaking, not with fear, but with something else – a slow burn that felt too much like satisfaction.The horn blasted once, loud and sharp, echoing into the night. I didn't care. The security guard would come when he was ready. I pressed my foot down, more forceful now, my eyes burning with the anger and satisfaction that had bubbled up since I'd walked out of Evelyn. Her smugness, her little lies, it was all so... transparent. I had been waiting for the right moment to show her what it felt like to be caught in the act.When the gate finally creaked open, I slid past it quickly, pulling into the parking spot nearest the door. I sat there for a moment, breathing heavily, my phone buzzing insistently in my lap. The screen flashed with mess

Evelyn povThe air in the room felt suffocating as Lucas watched me, his eyes darting nervously between me and the door. My heart pounded relentlessly against my ribs, and despite his calm words, every inch of me trembled. I could hear my breath, shallow and erratic, but his piercing gaze seemed to demand something I wasn’t ready to give."You can’t just keep hiding in here, Evelyn," Lucas said, his voice softer than usual, but no less firm. "You need to eat. It's not good for you to stay locked up like this."I shook my head, instinctively pulling the blanket tighter around me as if it could shield me from the world outside. But I knew it couldn’t protect me from what was coming."I’m not hungry," I muttered, my voice barely audible, betraying the lie.Lucas didn’t move immediately. His gaze held mine, searching for some glimmer of the person I used to be. Maybe he thought if he just tried hard enough, he could find it again. But the truth was that part of me had already died."You'r

Lucas’s POVThe air in the room crackled with tension, a thick, electric atmosphere that demanded a decisive action. My fingers gripped the stack of papers on my desk, their sharp edges digging into my skin, a fitting reminder of the treacherous path I was on. “Drop the file, Hannah,” I commanded, my voice steady but firm, imbued with a finality that left no room for argument.Hannah hesitated, a flicker of defiance in her eyes. I recognized that look—it was the one she wore whenever I delivered news she preferred to ignore. Her gaze darted between the file in her hands and my unyielding demeanor, her expression tightening as if bracing for impact. The weight of our family business loomed over us, heavier than usual, yet this conflict was about more than just business; it was personal.I had reached my limit. I couldn’t pretend any longer, especially not with Evelyn in the picture. She wasn’t family—not yet, and maybe she never would be. The more I pushed Hannah to understand this cri