The Abandoned Wife Takes Down His Empire

I gave up my engineering career and spent seven years building my husband's billionaire empire.

But when my family's business faced a crisis, he ruthlessly cut our credit lines to bankrupt us, all to steal the core business proposal I had worked on for half a year for his new secretary and mistress. They even accused me of malicious competition.

"She saved us two million dollars by giving up her project bonus for a custom Porsche. You should be grateful," he told me over the phone with a condescending tone. "Come to my office tomorrow to get your pathetic bridge loan, and learn to behave. Stop targeting her."

He didn't know that because of the thugs his mistress hired to violently push my father, my father had already died of a massive heart attack on a cold warehouse floor.

When I confronted him, he froze my bank accounts, locked me out of our home, and demanded I get on my knees to apologize to the thief.

"Consider this bankruptcy a lesson in market realities," he told me coldly.

I looked at the man I had loved for seven years, realizing my sacrifices meant absolutely nothing to his cruel, arrogant ego.

I didn't shed a single tear.

Instead, I grabbed the hidden master encryption drive and the bloody evidence from the safe.

Then, I calmly dialed the fiercest corporate litigator in the city to make them pay for every drop of blood.

Chapter 1

America Holland POV:

My family business Holland Industries stood forty-eight hours away from total liquidation.

Seven years of marriage to Caden Crawford meant nothing when his hand signed the order to pull our credit lines.

I stood in the corner office of Crawford Enterprises with my fingernails cutting into my palms.

"Two million dollars, Caden," I said.

The man I married seven years ago did not look up from his tablet.

"That is the exact amount of the bridge loan my father needs to clear customs and finish our delivery," I added.

Caden adjusted his platinum watch.

"Holland Industries failed because your management and ideas are completely obsolete, America," he said. "You just can't stand seeing a young woman succeed without relying on family privilege."

"Khloe presented a cleaner, faster business proposal to the board yesterday," he added.

"Khloe is your secretary and mistress," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed anger. "She stole the core proposal I spent six months developing and slapped her name on it."

Caden set his tablet down on the glass desk.

"Khloe grew up with nothing in foster care," he said in a flat voice. "She works sixteen hours a day while you rely on your father's past reputation. I funded her education because she has real talent, not entitlement."

I looked at him, feeling a deep sense of sorrow. I had spent seven years building his commercial empire, managing his life, and supporting him from absolute poverty to immense wealth without taking a single penny for myself. Now, I was begging for a two-million-dollar loan, and he was treating me like a beggar.

"My father called you this morning," I said. "He begged you to remember how he helped you when you were a nobody. He just needed a little time."

Caden let out a cruel laugh. "Yes, he called. It was quite amusing. The great Darvin Holland, who used to look down on me, whining like a dog for a handout. It proves he's a failure."

My hand moved before I could think.

"Slap!"

My palm struck his cheek with a sharp crack. "You ungrateful bastard," I hissed.

Caden's face darkened with rage. He grabbed my wrist. "Are you insane? You will bring your father here, and both of you will get on your knees and apologize to Khloe. Until then, you won't see a single cent!"

"Consider this bankruptcy a lesson in market realities."

My phone buzzed against my leg.

A text message from Arthur, my father's old butler, popped up on the screen.

"Miss America, your father went into cardiac arrest after a physical altercation with debt collectors at his warehouse. The paramedics performed CPR, but he passed away at 10:15 AM. Please come to St. Jude Memorial immediately."

The world stopped. A freezing, absolute silence wrapped around my heart. The agonizing pain instantly morphed into a dead, terrifying calm.

"My father is dead, Caden," I said, my voice empty of any emotion.

Caden sneered, dropping my wrist. "Are you kidding me? You are truly vicious, America. Making up a lie about your own father's death just to extort money?"

The sound of high heels clicked against the marble tiles. Khloe Rose walked into the office. She wore an ivory Chanel suit and carried a champagne flute in her hand.

"Caden, why is she yelling?" Khloe murmured, leaning against his arm with a soft, venomous smile. "America, I know you are desperate for cash, but you shouldn't lie about someone dying. It's so bad for your karma."

"Keep your mouth shut, you thief," I said coldly.

"Apologize to Khloe right now!" Caden roared.

I didn't argue. I turned around and walked out. I already had the evidence of their theft. I had been biding my time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. But they had just pushed my father to his death. There would be no more waiting. I was going to tear their empire down to the ground, brick by brick.

I left the skyscraper and took a cab directly to St. Jude Memorial.

The automatic doors slid open into the smell of bleach and copper.

My chest seized as I stepped into the room. My father lay on the metal gurney under a thin white sheet. His knuckles were bruised, and his neck bore red scratches.

"Ms. Holland, we need your signature on the intake release and the transfer order to the morgue," the nurse said softly.

I signed the paper with steady strokes.

Then I pulled out my phone and dialed Joelle Price, the fiercest corporate litigator in the city.

"Joelle," I said. "My father is dead. And Caden Crawford is going to pay for every drop of blood."

"Send me everything you have on Crawford's pending patent filing," Joelle said without hesitation. "We file an injunction before the market opens on Monday."

"I am heading to the warehouse to retrieve the source code right now," I told her.

As soon as I hung up, Caden's contact photo illuminated the screen. I pressed accept.

"I spoke with Khloe," Caden said. "She is willing to accept your public apology at our quarterly dinner tonight. If you behave properly, I will authorize a five-hundred-thousand-dollar emergency line for your father. You should be grateful she has a generous heart."

I listened to his breathing over the satellite line.

"My father does not need your money, Caden," I said.

"Do not play games with me, America," he snapped. "You have no other options."

"I will see you in court," I said, and ended the call.