The Prenup: My Billion Dollar Weapon
img img The Prenup: My Billion Dollar Weapon img Chapter 3
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Chapter 4 img
Chapter 5 img
Chapter 6 img
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
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Chapter 3

Adella Palmer POV:

"You," I rasped, the word scraping my throat raw. The fire in my stomach was an inferno now, every nerve ending screaming in protest. "You did this."

Kassie' s smirk widened. "Did what, Adella? Help you on your wellness journey? Some people just can' t handle a little detox."

I tried to push myself up, to lunge at her, but my body betrayed me. I was choking, my airway closing up from the violent allergic reaction. Black spots danced in my vision.

Fitzgerald appeared behind her, his face a mask of alarm. "What' s wrong with her?"

"I think she' s having one of her episodes," Kassie said, her voice laced with pity. "Poor thing. She' s just so... fragile."

"Call... 911," I gasped, the words barely audible.

Fitzgerald hesitated. He looked from my writhing form on the floor to Kassie' s calm, composed face. He saw an inconvenience, a mess that would disrupt his perfect evening.

"She' s just being dramatic," Kassie soothed, placing a hand on his chest. "She does this for attention. Let' s just let her ride it out. I' ll call the house medic."

The world was fading to gray. My last conscious thought was of Fitzgerald' s face, not filled with concern for his wife of ten years, but with annoyance. He was annoyed that I was dying on his kitchen floor.

I woke up to the rhythmic beeping of a machine and the sharp, antiseptic smell of a hospital. Not Fitzgerald' s private clinic, but a public one. A nurse was adjusting my IV drip.

"You' re very lucky," she said, her voice kind but stern. "Anaphylactic shock. A few more minutes and we wouldn' t have been able to bring you back. What on earth did you ingest?"

I couldn' t speak. My throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper.

From the hallway, I heard voices. A doctor was speaking in low, angry tones.

"I don' t care who he is! This woman was minutes from death, and his first concern was whether the press would find out. He tried to prevent the paramedics from taking her to a public hospital! He wanted to move her to his private facility, against medical advice. Unbelievable."

Then I heard Kassie' s saccharine voice. "But the doctor is just trying to protect our privacy. Adella has these... dramatic episodes. She' s mentally unstable. She probably took the wrong pills on purpose to get Fitz' s attention."

And then, Fitzgerald' s voice, cold and final. "My fiancée is right. My wife is... unwell. We' ll handle her care from here."

Fiancée. The word hit me with the force of a physical blow. He had already replaced me, not just in his bed, but in his future. I wasn't his wife anymore. I was just a problem to be managed.

A wave of nausea, this time born of pure emotional devastation, washed over me. I turned my head and vomited into the basin beside the bed. It felt like I was purging the last ten years of my life, the last vestiges of the foolish girl who believed love could conquer anything.

I had loved him so much it had become my identity. I had molded myself into the woman he needed, the perfect partner for a rising star. I' d hosted his parties, charmed his investors, defended his eccentricities. I had given up my own dreams, my own friends, my own health. For what? To be called "unwell" and discarded like a piece of broken furniture.

Fitzgerald appeared in the doorway, his face a carefully arranged mask of concern. "Adella. You' re awake. You gave us quite a scare."

"Us?" I whispered, my voice a broken croak.

He had the grace to look away. "Kassie and me."

He sat by my bed for the next few days, a silent, brooding presence. He wasn' t there for me. He was a jailer. He was waiting for me to be well enough to be moved back to his control, back to the house where Kassie and her poisonous wellness regime awaited.

"You know, there' s a charity gala tonight," he said one afternoon, scrolling through his phone. "At the Montana ranch of that oil baron, What' s-his-name. It' s a ridiculous affair, but Kassie is being honored for her animal advocacy. It' s important for her brand." He paused. "I think you should come. It would be good for you to get out. And it would show a united front. Stop the rumors."

He wanted to parade me around like a prop to quell the gossip about his new fiancée. The audacity was breathtaking.

"My father is in the ICU, Fitz," I said, my voice dead.

"He' s stable," he countered dismissively. "You sitting by his bed won' t change that. This is important."

I looked at his face, at the man I no longer recognized, and I knew. This was my only way out. If I was at a public event, surrounded by his wealthy peers, he couldn't make me disappear.

"Fine," I said. "I' ll go."

The gala was held at a sprawling, ostentatious ranch in the wilds of Montana. The air was thin and cold. The main event was a showcase of the host' s private collection of exotic animals, including several massive grizzly bears kept in a large, state-of-the-art enclosure. It was a grotesque display of wealth and power, and Kassie, the supposed animal lover, was at the center of it all, beaming.

Gossip followed me like a shadow. Whispers and sideways glances. "That' s her... the first wife." "I hear she had a complete breakdown." "Poor thing, he' s already moved on."

I stood by the edge of the crowd, a glass of untouched champagne in my hand, feeling like a ghost at a feast. I remembered a time when Fitzgerald would have been by my side, his arm securely around me, daring anyone to look at me the wrong way. Now, he was across the lawn, his arm around Kassie, laughing at something she said. He publicly placed a diamond ring, a stone so large it was vulgar, onto her finger. The crowd erupted in applause.

Suddenly, there was a commotion near the bear enclosure. A loud crack, followed by panicked screams. One of the massive grizzlies, agitated by the noise and the lights, had broken through a section of the reinforced glass. It was out.

Chaos erupted. People screamed and ran, a stampede of tuxedos and evening gowns. My blood ran cold.

Instinctively, I looked for Fitzgerald. He was already moving, his face a mask of terror. But he wasn' t running towards me. He was running with Kassie, his arm wrapped protectively around her, hustling her towards the safety of the main lodge.

He didn't even glance back.

In the ensuing panic, someone shoved me hard from behind. I stumbled, my ankle twisting beneath me, and fell to the hard, cold ground. A searing pain shot up my leg. I tried to get up, but my ankle wouldn't hold my weight.

I was trampled. The heel of a shoe caught my temple, and the world exploded in a flash of white-hot pain.

Through the chaos, I saw him. Fitzgerald. He had reached the lodge doors with Kassie. He stopped, and for one heart-stopping moment, he turned and our eyes met across the terrified crowd. He saw me. He saw me on the ground, injured, directly in the path of the panicked, raging animal.

His face was a whirlwind of emotions. Fear. Indecision. And then... nothing. A cold, deliberate blankness.

He turned his back on me and disappeared inside the lodge, pulling the heavy oak doors shut behind him.

He left me there to die.

The last thing I saw before the darkness claimed me was the massive, hulking shadow of the bear, rising up on its hind legs, its roar a deafening thunder that drowned out the sound of my own heart breaking for the very last time.

                         

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