His Betrayal, Her Billion-Dollar Revenge

For three years, I played the part of a simple housewife for my husband, Cedric. I buried my true self-Eleanor Curry, heiress to a massive security firm-to be the quiet wife he claimed to love.

Then a chemical plant exploded. In the chaos, Cedric shielded his teammate, Cassidy, and left me behind in a collapsing building.

"Forget her," I heard him tell his men. "She' s useless. A dead weight."

I survived, only for him to force me, while I was injured and feverish, to donate blood to Cassidy for her "severe" injuries.

But then I overheard them laughing in the next room. Her injuries were a lie. It was all a "little lesson," he said, to teach me my place.

As my own wound reopened and bled through my gown, I reached for the hidden device in my bag. "Falcon reporting."

A gravelly voice answered instantly. "Welcome home, little bird. We've been waiting."

Chapter 1

I played the part for three years. Three long years of pretending to be someone I wasn't, all for a man who didn't deserve an ounce of my truth.

Eleanor Curry, the Yale-educated strategist, the sole heiress to a colossal private security firm, became Ella Hopkins. The quiet wife who loved to bake. The one who always had a warm meal ready.

Cedric, my husband, once said he loved my "simplicity." He called it his escape from his high-stakes world. Now, that simplicity was a burden. A weakness he openly resented.

His eyes, once full of a protective warmth for me, followed Cassidy Caldwell across the room. Her independence, her fierce spirit-these were the things he praised. These were the things he now demanded from me, the qualities I'd buried for him.

I saw them. Framed in the doorway of our office. His hand rested on her arm, a laugh escaping her lips. It was too intimate for teammates.

"Professional camaraderie," he called it later that night. His voice was flat. My heart felt the same.

It happened again. And again. Each time, a new hairline fracture in the foundation I' d built on lies.

The anniversary of my parents' death dawned grey and heavy. A day that shattered me anew each year.

I spent the morning at their graveside alone. The cold marble reflected my solitude.

Later, the Curry Group honored them in a private ceremony. Garth, my father's most trusted lieutenant, stood beside me. The loyalty of my 'Uncles' was a stark contrast to the emptiness in my own home.

A heavy, embossed file was placed in my hands. The group's future, my birthright, laid bare. It was time.

Cedric wasn't there. He was tending to Cassidy' s "minor injury"-a scraped knee, I heard. My grief felt trivial next to her needs.

When he finally came home, hours later, I met him at the door. "Where were you?" My voice was thin. Fragile.

He sighed, a heavy, impatient sound. "Eleanor, can't you understand? This is my job. You're being unreasonable."

Unreasonable? My parents were gone. He was gone. And I, the 'meek wife,' was unreasonable. The word tasted like ash.

"There's nothing going on," he snapped. "You're just insecure. It's always about you, isn't it?"

"You stay home all day. What do you even do?" His words were venom. Each one a fresh cut.

I heard it later. From the kitchen, where I was making the dinner he wouldn't eat. Cedric and his comrades. "Useless trophy wife," one of them chuckled. Cedric didn't correct him. He just laughed.

The words 'useless trophy wife' hung in the air. A title he himself had bestowed. Then despised.

The meek, submissive Eleanor was dead. Her demise wasn't sudden. It was a slow, agonizing suffocation, fueled by his disdain.

I remembered Yale. The top of my class. The rigorous combat training I'd completed before I could even legally drink.

I had given up my dignity, my identity. For a love that chewed me up and spat me out.

No more. Eleanor Curry was returning. And she was bringing Falcon with her.

My secure comms device, hidden deep in the back of a cookie jar, hummed to life. "Falcon reporting."

Garth's voice was gravelly. It was tinged with relief. "Welcome home, little bird. We've been waiting."

"Tell the Uncles I'll be back in my rightful place by the new moon." My voice, once so soft, felt like steel.

The soft cashmere sweaters were replaced by sharp, tailored silhouettes. My hair, once loose, was pulled back. It revealed the determined lines of my jaw.

My new team, all hand-picked, saluted crisply. "Commander." The title felt like a second skin.

My phone buzzed. Cedric. "Eleanor, dinner's not made. And Cassidy needs her blood test results picked up." He still thought he owned me.

Tonight, the meek wife would die. For good.

I walked into my home. His home. Our home. Cassidy walked out of my bedroom, tightening the belt of my silk robe around her waist.