The Unwanted Wife Is A Billionaire Heiress

Chloe ran a finger over the rim of a wine glass, checking for smudges.

There were none.

The candlelight flickered, casting a warm glow on the Beef Wellington she had spent all afternoon preparing. Its golden crust was perfect. Everything was perfect.

Tonight was their third wedding anniversary.

A dull ache pulsed in her lower back. She unconsciously reached back, her fingers tracing the faint, silvery line of a scar hidden beneath her silk dress. A permanent reminder of the kidney she had given him. The price she had paid for this marriage.

The clock on the wall chimed nine.

He was three hours late.

She picked up her phone. The last message on the screen was from her, sent this morning.

"I'll be waiting for you at home tonight."

No reply.

A small, bitter laugh escaped her lips. It was a sound with no humor in it. She placed the phone face down on the tablecloth, the small flame of hope inside her sputtering out, wax by painful wax.

Then, the sound. A soft beep-beep-beep from the electronic lock at the entryway.

Her breath caught.

She stood up so quickly the chair scraped against the marble floor. A smile, practiced and gentle, formed on her lips as she hurried toward the door, ready to welcome her husband.

The door swung open. Augustine Rhodes stood there, tall and imposing in a custom-tailored suit that probably cost more than a car. His face was as handsome and as cold as ever.

Chloe opened her mouth to speak, but the words died in her throat.

He wasn't alone.

Standing just behind him, partially shielded by his broad frame, was another woman.

Blonde, wavy hair. A pale, delicate face that looked perpetually on the verge of tears. Ashley Sharp. His first love.

Chloe's heart didn't just sink. It plummeted, a dead weight in her chest. Her eyes locked onto Ashley's hand, which rested protectively over a softly rounded belly.

Augustine's gaze swept past Chloe as if she were a piece of furniture. He walked into the living room, loosening his tie with a sharp tug.

His voice was flat, devoid of any emotion, as if he were discussing the weather.

"Ashley's pregnant. Her health isn't good. She'll be staying here from now on."

The words hit her like a physical blow. The air rushed out of her lungs. She felt the blood in her veins turn to ice.

She stared at him, her lips parting, but no sound came out. She was frozen.

Ashley stepped out from behind Augustine, her eyes darting nervously toward Chloe before she spoke in a soft, weak voice.

"Augustine, maybe this isn't a good idea. What if Miss Chloe is upset?"

Miss Chloe.

Not Mrs. Rhodes.

The title was a deliberate, sharp-edged insult.

Finally, Augustine's cold, blue eyes landed on her. A frown creased his brow. "What right does she have to be upset? This is my house."

He sat down on the sofa, dismissing her completely.

Chloe's gaze traveled from Augustine's indifferent face, to Ashley's triumphant one, and finally to the now-cold anniversary dinner. The candles had burned down, dripping wax onto the pristine linen.

Three years.

Three years of devotion, of swallowing her pride, of trying to be the perfect wife.

It all felt like a joke. A cruel, elaborate joke, and she was the punchline.

She didn't feel pain. Not anymore. Just a profound, bone-deep chill. An overwhelming sense of disgust.

Ashley moved closer to Augustine, leaning against him. She stroked her stomach, a gesture of pure ownership, her eyes glinting with a victory she didn't bother to hide.

Augustine's patience seemed to snap. He glared at Chloe, who was still standing motionless by the door.

"What are you just standing there for? Go get Ashley a glass of hot water."

He said it so casually. Like he was talking to a maid.

A tremor ran through Chloe's body. Her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging so deep into her palms that she felt the sting.

She lifted her head. The amber eyes that had once looked at him with so much love were now empty. A barren wasteland where affection used to grow.

Her gaze bypassed him entirely, landing squarely on Ashley. Her voice was quiet, but it cut through the tension in the room like a shard of glass.

"Is the baby in your stomach his?"

Ashley flinched, startled by the directness, the coldness in Chloe's tone. She shrank back against Augustine and gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.

Augustine's face darkened with anger. "Chloe, watch your tone."

She ignored him.

A soft, chilling laugh escaped her lips. It was a sound so foreign, so devoid of warmth, that it sent an inexplicable shiver down Augustine's spine.

She finally looked at him. Her expression was perfectly calm.

"Augustine Rhodes," she said, her voice steady. "Let's get a divorce."