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The Jilted Wife's Ruthless Wall Street Return
img img The Jilted Wife's Ruthless Wall Street Return img Chapter 4
4 Chapters
Chapter 7 img
Chapter 8 img
Chapter 9 img
Chapter 10 img
Chapter 11 img
Chapter 12 img
Chapter 13 img
Chapter 14 img
Chapter 15 img
Chapter 16 img
Chapter 17 img
Chapter 18 img
Chapter 19 img
Chapter 20 img
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Chapter 4

Dallin stormed into the humid air of the greenhouse. His eyes swept over the blood-soaked orchids and the coat covering the dog. His jaw locked tight. He turned his head, his gaze locking onto Adriene with pure, unfiltered hostility.

Elaina didn't miss a beat. She threw herself forward, crashing into Dallin's chest like a frightened bird. "Dallin!" she wailed, burying her face in his shirt. "She's crazy! She's going to kill us all!"

Dallin wrapped his arms tightly around Elaina. He glared at Adriene. "You are a sick, twisted woman," he spat, his voice vibrating with disgust. He looked over Adriene's shoulder at the butler. "Call the psychiatric team. Now."

Adriene laughed. The sound was sharp and cold, echoing off the glass walls of the greenhouse. It was so out of place that Dallin's grip on Elaina loosened for a fraction of a second.

Adriene took a step forward, completely ignoring Dallin's fury. She pointed directly at Elaina. "Where were you ten minutes ago?" she demanded, her voice ringing with authority.

Elaina's eyes darted nervously. "I... I was in my bed," she stammered. "I heard the noise and ran out."

Adriene's arm dropped, her finger pointing straight at the bottom hem of Elaina's nightgown. "Then explain the fresh, wet dog blood on your dress."

Every flashlight in the room instantly jerked downward. The beams converged on the hem of the white silk. The bright red stain was impossible to miss.

A heavy silence fell over the greenhouse. The maids and bodyguards exchanged horrified glances. The pity in their eyes vanished, replaced by a creeping dread as they stared at Elaina.

Elaina's face drained of all color. Her hands twitched, instinctively moving to cover the stain, but she froze, realizing it would only make her look guiltier. She shook her head frantically. "No! I brushed against something when I walked in!"

"It's a two-minute run from your bedroom to this greenhouse," Adriene stated, her logic flawless and cold. "You appeared three seconds after I did. You didn't run here. You were already here."

The airtight reasoning left the room dead silent. Even Dallin's eyes flickered down to the blood on the silk, a flash of genuine doubt crossing his face.

Before anyone could speak, the sharp thwack of a wooden cane hit the stone path outside. Eleonora appeared in the doorway. She had heard the commotion and the accusations. Her sharp eyes locked onto the blood on Elaina's dress.

Eleonora's face twisted in absolute disgust. A Morales family member acting like a psychotic butcher was unacceptable. She raised her heavy rosewood cane high into the air, aiming straight for Elaina's shoulders.

The cane swung down with a vicious swoosh.

In a split second, Dallin spun around. He pulled Elaina flush against his chest and turned his broad back to his mother.

The heavy wood slammed into Dallin's spine with a sickening, hollow thud. Dallin grunted, his muscles locking up from the impact, but he didn't move an inch.

"You fool!" Eleonora shrieked, striking him again. And again. Three brutal blows. Dallin clenched his jaw, taking every hit, his body acting as a human shield for the woman cowering in his arms.

Adriene watched the grand display of tragic love with dead eyes. Her heart didn't even skip a beat. The only thing she felt was a dark, secret thrill. Her plan was falling perfectly into place.

The chaos ended with Dallin carrying a shaking Elaina back to the main house, his steps slightly uneven from the pain in his back.

Hours later, at 2:00 AM, the estate was silent. Inside his dim study, Dallin stood by his desk. He had taken off his shirt. Ugly, dark purple bruises stretched across his shoulder blades. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, his face tight with exhaustion and irritation.

The heavy oak door clicked open. Adriene walked in. She carried a silver tray holding a glass of warm milk and a thick stack of legal documents. Her face was arranged into a mask of perfect, submissive worry.

Dallin looked up. His eyes narrowed with immediate revulsion. "Don't think because you proved a point tonight that you have any power here," he warned, his voice like gravel.

Adriene lowered her eyelashes. "I know," she said softly, her tone dripping with fake obedience. "I was just... so upset about Max. I lost my temper. I shouldn't have embarrassed you."

She set the tray on the desk and slid the thick stack of papers toward him. Attached to the top of the bundle was a perfectly forged yellow sticky note bearing Pax Keller's signature, reading: "Dallin, standard tax filings for the Hamptons trust. Fully vetted. Need your sign-off tonight." "Kaia sent over the trust transfer documents for the Hamptons estate. They need your signature to finalize the tax filings."

Dallin's back was throbbing. His head ached from dealing with his mother's rage and Elaina's endless crying. He had zero patience left for paperwork.

He looked at Adriene with pure contempt. He truly believed this weak, desperate woman would never dare play a trick on him, especially not with his lead attorney's explicit approval stamped on the front.

Without reading a single line of the dense legal text, trusting Pax's forged note entirely, Dallin flipped straight to the last page. He pulled the cap off his fountain pen and aggressively scrawled his signature across the bottom line.

Adriene stared at the black ink on the page. Her heart began to pound so hard it hurt her ribs. She forced her hands to remain steady as she quickly pulled the documents back against her chest.

"Goodnight, Dallin," she smiled.

She turned around. The second her back was to him, the submissive mask shattered. A freezing, wild joy took over her features.

She walked out into the dark hallway and clutched the absolute divorce agreement to her chest. She had the key to her cage.

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