The Woman Who Sold His Empire
img img The Woman Who Sold His Empire img Chapter 4
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Chapter 4

Ethan began a campaign of grand romantic gestures, flowers delivered daily, surprise gifts, heartfelt apologies scrawled on expensive stationery.

But Ava had hired a private investigator after the Montblanc pen incident.

The PI's reports were detailed, clinical.

Chloe was receiving identical, if not more elaborate, attention from Ethan, sometimes on the same day.

The flowers Ava received in the morning were followed by a larger bouquet for Chloe in the afternoon.

The "unique" antique locket Ethan gave Ava had a twin, already around Chloe's neck in a social media post.

It was a sickening parallel performance.

Late one night, their landline rang.

Ethan, already in bed, answered it groggily.

Ava listened from the doorway.

A distorted voice, likely Chloe using a voice modulator, claimed to be Chloe's friend.

"Chloe's overdosed," the voice rasped. "She took a whole bottle of pills. She left a note... it's all about you, Ethan."

Ethan shot out of bed, his face ashen.

He scribbled a hasty note for Ava: "Sudden business trip. Urgent. Back soon. Love you."

He didn't even look at her as he rushed out.

Ava picked up the note, crumpled it.

Business trip.

Of course.

The next day, Ava was searching for an old tax document in Ethan's home office.

She stumbled upon a hidden cloud storage folder linked to their home security system, a system Ethan had insisted on installing for "their protection."

Curiosity, cold and grim, made her click.

It was filled with videos.

Explicit videos of Ethan and Chloe.

In various parts of their house.

Their kitchen.

Their living room.

Their marital bed.

Ava felt a wave of nausea so profound she had to grip the desk.

The PI had already gathered irrefutable evidence of the affair – photos, hotel bills, witness statements.

This was just a visceral, disgusting confirmation.

With the evidence from the PI and now the videos, the infidelity clause of their prenup was unequivocally triggered.

Ava called Liam Walker.

"The 70% stake is officially mine to sell, Liam. The documentation is solid."

"I'm ready, Ava," Liam said.

They met with lawyers.

The deal was finalized quickly, a significant sum transferred to Ava's new, private account.

She felt a strange lightness, a sense of grim satisfaction.

The money wasn't the point; it was the severing, the reclaiming of what was hers by his own agreement.

                         

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