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On the night of her seventh wedding anniversary, Annabelle waited by a cold dinner, only for her husband Julian to kick the doors open, carrying his bleeding sister-in-law, Jocelyne. Jocelyne had committed a horrific drunk driving hit-and-run, and Julian demanded Annabelle sign a plea deal and go to prison to protect the family's stock prices. What truly broke Annabelle wasn't Julian's ruthless betrayal, but her own twin sons. Her own flesh and blood stood fiercely in front of Jocelyne to protect her. "Nobody even likes you anyway, Mother. If you go to jail, everything stays normal." Julian stripped her of every cent, locked her in a remote estate, and chased her to the edge of a cliff with his bodyguards when she refused to be their scapegoat. Looking at the man she had loved for seven years and the children she had devoted her life to, her heart turned to ice. Why was her endless sacrifice rewarded with being a disposable shield for a manipulative liar? Standing on the jagged cliffs, she played the dashcam audio proving Jocelyne's guilt to a suddenly horrified Julian. "You don't deserve the truth." Then, she stepped backward off the cliff into the raging black ocean. Two years later, she returned to the city as an untouchable, powerful elite, walking right past a broken, miserable Julian without a second glance.
Contents
The Presumed Dead Ex-Wife's Spectacular Comeback Chapter 1
The Wellington steak on the center of the long mahogany table was completely cold. The pastry crust had congealed into a greasy, unappetizing gray.
Annabelle sat at the end of the table. The antique grandfather clock against the wall struck midnight. A heavy, hollow sound that vibrated in her chest. Seven years. Today was their seventh wedding anniversary.
She reached out. Her fingers hovered over the flame of the custom anniversary candle. She was about to pinch the wick and plunge the room into darkness.
A sharp, electronic beep pierced the silence.
It came from the private elevator in the foyer. Annabelle froze. Her thumb subconsciously rubbed the cold platinum of her wedding band.
The heavy, double walnut doors were shoved open with violent force. They slammed against the walls.
Julian strode into the foyer. His custom-tailored suit was a wrinkled mess. His tie was gone. But that wasn't what made the air leave Annabelle's lungs.
Julian was carrying Jocelyne in his arms.
Jocelyne was shivering violently. Her silver haute couture evening gown was ruined. Dark, wet patches of crimson blood stained the expensive fabric. The metallic smell of it hit Annabelle instantly.
Annabelle's fingers twitched. The crystal wine glass she had been holding slipped from her grasp.
It hit the floor and shattered. Dark red wine bled into the white Persian rug. It looked exactly like the blood on Jocelyne's dress.
Julian didn't even flinch at the sound. He stepped right over the broken glass. The soles of his leather shoes crunched on the shards.
He walked past Annabelle as if she were a piece of furniture. He lowered Jocelyne onto the velvet sofa in the living room with sickening gentleness.
Frantic footsteps echoed from the spiral staircase. The twins, Leo and Theo, ran down in their silk pajamas.
Leo didn't even look at his mother. He threw himself at the sofa and grabbed Jocelyne's trembling hand.
Theo took a step forward. His voice was chillingly calm. "Nobody even likes you anyway, Mother. If Aunt Jocelyne goes to jail, Grandpa will be so mad he might take away our toys and the big house. If you go, everything stays normal. It's just the best way."
The words of her own flesh and blood felt like rusty knives twisting directly into her heart. Her chest caved in. The physical pain was so intense her vision blurred.
Annabelle looked at the twins. Then she looked at Julian. The pain vanished, replaced by a sudden, freezing numbness. Her blood turned to ice.
She straightened her spine. She dropped her hand from her wedding ring. She looked at Julian with eyes as dead and cold as the ocean floor.
"Dream on."
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