Discovered His Will, Faked My Death

ge, I discovered my billion

oung protégée, Kira. My life was a lie; I was just a plac

ded a divorc

you think you're just going

e our baby. Then Kira, his mistress, showed up at my door, confirm

ep in her bed, wearing the pajamas I

aby has a dimpl

resembled her. My son w

identified by my wedding ring, had died in a clinic fire. But I wa

pte

se

digital file, the one he swore was just for business. I knew the password. He never changed it.

will. His last will and testament. And it left everything, e

his protégé. My stomach twisted. Seven years. Seven years of m

tional wedding. No family. Just a quick ceremony and a document that ensured I walked away with nothing. I had dismissed it then, drunk on what I th

For seven long years

een, it was clear. I was no

open. Grayson stood there

g?" he spat, his voice like ic

shaking but steady. "It was our a

laptop, and slammed it shut. His fingers flew across the key

s voice flat. "It's a contingency. For Kira'

And it's not a foundation, Grayson. It's a trust. For Kira McGuire, personally." My vo

es before it was replaced by cold amusement. "A divorc

countered, my voice firm

And you think you're just going to walk away with my child?" H

owards the door, my entire body

again, Elyse. Or you'll regret it." He turned and left, the do

lly. The baby inside me kicked, a gentle flutter that

act. Now. I booked the earliest possible appointment at the clinic. The

thought sent a jolt of pain through me, a physical ache that o

dure is... highly risky. For you. And for the baby." She pointed to the ultrasound screen, a

a perfect little life. My baby. My son. The d

ting in my gut. But I had to protec

oice to be steady. "Yes," I said,

ointment confirmed." My phone buzzed in my hand, a cold

a lawyer I had met through some charit

one gentle. "But you have rights. We can fight this.

t see me. "No," I said, my voice raw. "

acquired before our marriage or funneled into separate trusts. My own earnings, meager compared to his, had barely covered my personal expenses. He'd a

ure, every casual phrase about our shared future, had been a lie. He didn' t want a wife; he wanted a vessel. A

for. Not for me, anyway." My body was shaking, but a strange resolve settle

There might be ways to challenge some cl

." My hands trembled as I signed the documents later that day, my anger a cold, st

d designed it for him years ago, thinking it was for me. He'd said, "It's a gift for someone truly special, a r

o busy" with a crucial business deal. Later, I found out he'd been at an e

. For the next generation." I had poured my heart and soul into it, working through my recovery, pushing past the pain. Only now, seeing the trust documen

. "I'm an architect, remember? I have my own independent income. It wo

blind. He had played me for a fool, making me believe that being his wife, li

now. Not here. I doubled over, a silent sob escaping my lips. "I'm so sorry," I