Discovering His Mistress Faked Blindness to Steal My Eyes

Seven years. Seven long years since I'd last set foot in New York City. The skyline stretched before me, a glittering canvas of ambition and betrayal. I stood on the balcony of our Manhattan penthouse, the cool evening air caressing my skin. My fingers absently traced the platinum band on my left hand—a habit I'd developed whenever the past threatened to overwhelm me. "You're thinking about them, aren't you?" I didn't need to turn to know Leonardo had joined me. His presence was like a physical force, powerful and reassuring. The mate bond between us hummed with his concern. "They're just ghosts, Violet," he said, his arms encircling me from behind. His chin rested on my shoulder, his breath warm against my neck.

Three years after a tragic accident cost her her hearing, a woman believes she is living a blessed life. With a husband providing meticulous care and a best friend supporting her professional needs, she feels truly fortunate. However, this facade of happiness shatters when she discovers her two closest confidants in a passionate, secret embrace. Faced with their devastating betrayal, she resolves to make them suffer the consequences of their cruel deception.

Chapter 1 It was their seventh wedding anniversary. Carolyn found the divorce agreement in Roger’s nightstand. The pages were covered in scribbles and corrections, as if he’d agonized over them for years. *"If, during the marriage, I fall in love with another person, I voluntarily relinquish all assets and leave with nothing. Asset details as follows…"* His first impulse had been to walk away empty-handed. But the asset section told a different story—a mess of revisions. First, he’d crossed out the property he intended to give her. Then, the fifty million earmarked for her was scratched out and replaced with five hundred thousand. Finally, as if in penance, he had written a single line. *"Better to have Carolyn leave with nothing. No choice, Catherine is pregnant."* … Carolyn sank onto the bed, disbelief washing over her. On the agreement, Roger’s signature was clean and decisive, without a hint of hesitation. And the document had been drafted seven years ago—the very year they married. That year, Roger had been willing to give up everything for her. Yet every year after, he had crossed out another piece of their shared life. Now, seven years later, the one leaving with nothing would be her. Her phone buzzed abruptly. A message from Roger. *"Urgent business. Won't be back."* She called, only to find his phone already switched off. Another notification flashed—a screenshot from a friend. Catherine, the student she sponsored, had posted on social media. *"Wow, got praised! To commemorate my first period without a leak, the big boss said we should celebrate properly!"* In a nine-photo collage, Roger gazed at her, eyes crinkling with affection as he fastened a dazzling gemstone necklace around her neck. The post was tagged at a couples-themed hotel. Carolyn’s breath caught. He couldn’t remember seven years of marriage, of weathering storms together—but he could find the energy to celebrate Catherine’s… leak-free period. And that pendant… she’d seen it at an auction just last week. It was her mother’s lost heirloom. She’d been ready to bid when her bank card was frozen. She’d asked Roger why. A long time later, he finally texted back, telling her not to waste money on such impractical things. Clutching her bidding paddle, she’d sat helplessly in the auction hall. In the end, she resolved to sell one of her own designs to raise the funds. But someone on the phone swooped in with an unbeatable offer and took it. For weeks afterward, Carolyn hated herself—hated that she couldn’t protect her mother’s last keepsake. She never imagined the one who snatched it away was Roger. He knew exactly how much that pendant meant to her. Yet he gave it to Catherine. Even on their seventh anniversary, Roger had lied about being busy with work, while wining and dining the girl she’d sponsored. The anniversary gift he left her was a divorce agreement demanding she leave with nothing. Seven years of marriage. Seven years of infidelity. And Carolyn had known nothing. She’d even introduced the other woman to him herself. Catherine was the impoverished student Carolyn sponsored. The first time Catherine came to their home to give thanks, Roger found her intrusive and disliked her on sight. *"That girl has no manners. Tracked mud all over my cashmere rug."* *"If her grades aren’t up to par, cut the sponsorship."* Back then, Carolyn had teased him, saying not to be jealous—it was good the girl had a grateful heart. She never once suspected Roger and Catherine. For seven years, everyone in their circle believed Roger never played around. That he loved only Carolyn. But by their next meeting, Catherine had become Roger’s personal assistant. Roger explained, *"The girl’s had it tough. You’ve sponsored her for years. Giving her a job is just helping you out."* Carolyn had laughed it off. Now, hands trembling, she opened Catherine’s social media feed. Catherine had always hidden her posts from Carolyn. Now, she seemed desperate to flaunt everything. While Carolyn drank until her stomach bled to secure a deal for Roger, Catherine was using Roger’s card to buy her first Louis Vuitton. While Carolyn changed bedpans for Roger’s bedridden grandmother, Roger was taking Catherine to a perfume atelier for a blending class—calling it a business trip. Catherine had even complained online. *"Your wife is such a pampered princess. Can't handle the tiniest thing without you running back. Can she not live without a man?"* And Roger had replied beneath it. *"If she were half as independent as you, I’d have an easier life."* But that day… Carolyn’s mother had lost her battle with cancer. She’d cried until her heart felt shredded, scrambling to handle the arrangements. All the while, Roger kept checking his phone impatiently, eager to leave. Not for work, she realized now—but because he was desperate to get back to Catherine.

In the fifth year of our life in America, my husband, Benjamin Sanders, brought Nora Burke and her son straight to our home. "Nora and her son are new here. They'll stay with us for a while." We had a huge fight over this. On my birthday, Benjamin handed me divorce papers, saying, "Sign it quickly, Nora needs a visa, and it'll only be a temporary divorce." I frowned, trying to understand. But Benjamin pointed at me and accused me of being heartless. Not long after, I saw Nora's post on Facebook: "Ben is divorcing for me and the child! Finally, we have a place to call home." Without a word, I liked the post, signed the divorce papers, and applied to return to the UK. When my manager, Arlette Hernandez, saw my application, she seemed surprised. "Kiara, you worked so hard to move here. Why do you want to go back now?" I lowered my head with a bitter smile.

In the billionaire romance My Husband Stole My Life's Work, a chef's recipes are stolen by her ex-husband. After six years in hiding, she must protect her new business from his sabotage. This modern novel follows her quest for justice alongside a powerful new ally.

The lingerie felt like a mistake the moment I slipped it on. I stood in our penthouse bathroom—all marble and chrome, cold as a morgue—staring at my reflection. Black lace. Nothing too obvious. The saleswoman at La Perla had promised it was elegant, sophisticated. I'd nodded like I knew what I was doing, like I hadn't spent the last five years sleeping alone in a king-sized bed while my husband worked through the night in his study. Five years. Our anniversary. I twisted my wedding ring. The platinum band caught the light, throwing fractured rainbows across the mirror.