Heartbreak, Betrayal, and Billion-Dollar Revenge

After two years of brutal IVF treatments, I finally held a positive pregnancy test in my hand. I was the brains behind our billion-dollar tech company, and this baby was meant to be my greatest joint venture with my husband, Harden.

Then an anonymous text arrived. It was a video of Harden kissing an Instagram model, his hand high on her thigh. A second text followed: a bank statement showing he'd stolen millions from our company to pay for her.

I decided to go to the company gala and use my pregnancy to save us. But his mistress, Celine, showed up first, also claiming to be pregnant.

In front of everyone, my mother-in-law embraced her, calling her the true mother of the next heir. She gave Celine the family necklace she had refused to let me wear on my own wedding day.

Later, Celine shoved me. I fell, and a searing pain shot through my abdomen. I was bleeding on the ground, losing our miracle baby. I begged Harden for help.

He glanced at me, annoyed. "Stop being so dramatic," he said, before turning his back to comfort his mistress.

But as my world went dark, another man ran to my side. My biggest rival, Atticus Rios. He was the one who scooped me into his arms and raced me to the hospital.

When I woke up, the baby gone and my world in ashes, he was still there. He looked at me and made an offer. An alliance. A chance to take everything from the men who wronged us and burn their empires to the ground.

Chapter 1

The positive pregnancy test sat on the marble countertop of our bathroom, a perfect, impossible blue cross. I touched my flat stomach. After two years of injections, appointments, and quiet heartbreak, it was finally real. A tiny life, a secret I shared only with the white porcelain and chrome fixtures.

I imagined telling Harden. His face, the way his eyes would light up. He was the charismatic face of Helios Innovations, our green-tech dream. I was the brains, the scientist who made his grand promises a reality. We were a team, in the lab and in life. This baby would be our greatest joint venture.

My phone buzzed on the counter. An unknown number.

A video file.

My thumb hovered over the screen. Probably spam. But a cold feeling crept up my spine. I pressed play.

The video was grainy, shot from across a restaurant. Harden was there, his familiar profile sharp even in the dim light. He was laughing, leaning across a table. And then a woman leaned in, her lips meeting his.

It wasn't a friendly kiss. It was deep, hungry. The camera zoomed in. Harden' s hand was on her leg, high up on her thigh. The world tilted. My breath caught in my throat. I didn't know this woman, but she was beautiful in a way that screamed "online." Perfect makeup, styled hair, a dress that looked like it was made of money.

I recognized the ring on her finger. A gaudy, diamond-encrusted serpent. I' d seen it before, on some Instagram feed Harden was scrolling through. Celine Luna. A model. An influencer. A woman with two million followers and a vapid, cruel smile.

My phone buzzed again. This time it was my best friend, Maya.

"Kendra? Are you okay? The board meeting is in an hour."

Her voice was a lifeline in the sudden, silent storm in my head.

I forced my own voice to work, to sound normal. "Fine. Just running a little late. I'll be there."

"You sound weird."

"Just tired," I lied, the word tasting like ash. "Big day."

I hung up before she could ask more questions. My reflection stared back at me from the mirror. Kendra Sloan, the brilliant scientist, co-founder of a billion-dollar company. A woman who controlled geothermal energy but couldn't control her own life.

I slid down the cool tile wall, my legs giving out. The test stick lay on the floor beside me. The perfect blue cross mocked me. A sob tore from my throat, raw and ugly.

Our whole life was a lie. Ten years. From college sweethearts in a cramped dorm room, dreaming of changing the world, to this. This penthouse apartment, this company, this... betrayal. We had built an empire from nothing. We had everything. A beautiful home, a successful business, a future that glittered.

All I had ever wanted, besides our work, was a child. A family.

The years of IVF were a private hell. The hormone shots that made me feel crazy, the invasive procedures, the crushing disappointment each month. Harden had held my hand through it all. He'd wiped my tears. He' d told me, "We'll get through this, Ken. It's us against the world."

Was he with her then? Was he touching her, kissing her, while I was at home injecting myself with another round of hope?

The joy from moments ago curdled into something poisonous. A single, perfect day, shattered. I found myself trying to rationalize it. A mistake. A one-time thing. Men like Harden, powerful and handsome, had temptations. We could fix this. We had to.

I needed to see him. To hear him deny it.

I waited. The minutes stretched into an hour. The city lights outside our floor-to-ceiling windows blinked on, one by one, indifferent.

The front door finally clicked open. Harden walked in, loosening his tie.

He looked perfect, as always. His suit was tailored, his hair was immaculate. But I saw it now. The faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. The slight flush on his cheeks. A tiny, almost invisible scratch on his neck, just above his collar.

"Hey," he said, his voice smooth as whiskey. "Sorry I'm late. The investors were relentless."

I stood my ground, my arms crossed. "Where were you, Harden?"

He paused, his smile faltering for a second. "I just told you. A meeting with the Bainbridge group. It ran long." He walked toward me, his arms open for a hug.

"Don't," I said, my voice flat. "Who is Celine Luna?"

He froze. The charismatic mask dropped, replaced by a flicker of panic. He tried to cover it, tried to laugh it off. "Who? I don't know what you're talking about."

"The Instagram model, Harden. The one with the snake ring."

His face went pale. He ran a hand through his perfect hair, messing it up. He sank onto the edge of our custom-made sofa, the picture of a tortured man. It was a good performance.

"Ken, it's not what you think."

"Then what is it?" I pressed, my voice shaking.

He wouldn't look at me. He put his head in his hands. "It's my mother," he mumbled. "She's been on me for months. About us. About... you know."

He meant the baby. The heir. Gertrud Marshall, his cold, snobbish mother, had never liked me. I was from a blue-collar family, a scholarship kid. I wasn't good enough for her precious son. And my inability to produce a grandchild was, in her eyes, my ultimate failure.

"She wears me down, Ken," Harden said, his voice thick with fake pain. "The pressure is immense. I just... I needed an escape. It meant nothing."

I almost believed him. I wanted to. My heart ached for the man I thought he was, the man who was buckling under the weight of his family's expectations. Our company, our shared dream, depended on us. A scandal would destroy everything we had built. A divorce would be a disaster.

So I made a calculated decision. I would hold my cards close.

"Okay," I said, the word feeling foreign in my mouth. "Okay, Harden."

He looked up, his eyes wide with relief. He rushed to me, pulling me into his arms. I felt rigid against him, a statue of ice.

"We have the charity gala this weekend," he said, his lips against my hair. "We have to go. We have to look perfect. For the investors. For my mother."

"Fine," I whispered.

I would play the part of the perfect, supportive wife. I would go to the gala. And I would tell him about the baby there. In front of his mother. In front of everyone. Our baby. Our miracle. That would fix it. It had to.

I could still salvage this. We could still be a family.

As he held me, my phone, still in my hand, buzzed one more time. I glanced down at the screen. Another message from the same unknown number.

It wasn't a video this time. It was a screenshot of a bank transfer. From a Helios Innovations account I didn't recognize. A transfer of five hundred thousand dollars.

To Celine Luna.