His Unwanted Wife, The Billionaire's Obsession

Her fingers trembled, sliding over the check on the nightstand.

Fifty thousand dollars.

The corner of the check bore the Hawthorne Group logo, a brand seared into her mind like a cattle mark.

A wave of nausea churned in her stomach. The image of her daughter, Lily, her small face pale against the hospital pillows, flashed behind her eyes. The cold, sterile words of the billing office echoed in her ears.

This was for Lily's funeral.

She forced herself to fold the check, the crisp paper a stark contrast to the worn fabric of her coat pocket. This was the cost of dignity, or what was left of it.

The bathroom door opened, releasing a cloud of steam. A tall figure emerged, a towel slung low on his hips. Blaise Hawthorne. His dark hair was damp, his eyes sharp and predatory. A faint scar, almost invisible, bisected his lower lip, catching the lamplight.

Ellery took an involuntary step back, her gaze dropping to the floor. She needed to escape this room, this man, this suffocating moment.

"I have the money. Thank you," she said, her voice a raw whisper, shredded from crying. "I should go."

It was a final judgment on her husband, Jace Landry, and a condemnation of herself.

Blaise didn't answer. He walked to the minibar, the clink of ice against glass the only sound in the room. He poured a whiskey, leaning against the counter as he took a slow sip.

His eyes landed on her left wrist. It was bare, but a faint, white mark circled the skin where a piece of jewelry used to be.

"Jace Landry's wife," he said, his voice a low, amused drawl. "Is this all you're worth?"

Humiliation washed over her, a cold tide that made her gasp for air. She bit down hard on her lower lip, a familiar, painful habit.

She didn't give him the satisfaction of a response. She turned, her hand clutching the edge of her coat, and walked toward the door. Each step felt like walking on broken glass.

Her hand was just about to touch the doorknob when his voice came again, cool and deliberate.

"You forgot something."

Confused, she turned back.

He was holding it up, dangling it between his thumb and forefinger. A silver bracelet, one of a kind, passed down from her grandmother.

The blood drained from her face. "Give it back to me." She lunged for it, a desperate, clumsy movement. It was the most precious thing she had left, besides the memory of her daughter.

Blaise easily lifted his hand out of her reach, a smirk playing on his lips.

He made a soft "Tsk" sound with his tongue. "You want it back?" He slipped the bracelet into the pocket of his jeans. "Then you'll have to find a way to see me again."

As if on cue, her phone buzzed violently in her pocket. The screen lit up with a single name: Jace.

A jolt, sharp as a scorpion's sting, shot through her. She yanked the phone out and stabbed the decline button, her whole body shaking. She couldn't bear to hear his voice.

Blaise's eyes narrowed, watching her reaction. The amusement was gone, replaced by something deeper, more calculating. He gestured toward the door with his chin, a silent dismissal.

Filled with a powerless rage, Ellery could only glare at him before yanking the door open and bolting into the hallway.

She fled into the elevator, collapsing against the cold metal wall as the doors slid shut. Her legs gave out, and she slid to the floor.

The mirrored walls reflected a pale, ravaged face. Bruises, shaped like fingerprints, were beginning to form on her neck.

She closed her eyes, and a single, hot tear traced a path through her makeup.

Back in the suite, Blaise pulled the silver bracelet from his pocket. He ran his thumb over the inside, where a delicate, swirling 'E' was engraved. The image of a girl in a university library, years ago, flickered in his mind. His expression was unreadable.

He picked up his phone and dialed. "Tate. I want you to look into Jace Landry's recent financials. And... everything you can find on his wife."

He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, staring down at the glittering Chicago skyline.

Ellery stumbled out of the hotel into the biting wind. The cold shocked her system, clearing a fraction of the fog in her head. She clutched the check in her pocket. It was Lily's peace. It was her own damnation.

She hailed a cab, not to the gilded cage of the Landry estate, but to a 24-hour ATM.

She had to deposit the money now. The funeral home was waiting. She couldn't wait another second.

As she fed the check into the machine, her phone vibrated again. A text from Jace.

"Ellery, stop this tantrum. Come home tomorrow. We need to discuss Lily's bone marrow transplant."

The name-Lily-was a fist closing around her heart, squeezing until she couldn't breathe.

A tidal wave of hatred rose within her. That man. He was still using their dead daughter to control her.

She deleted the message without a reply. The machine whirred, and the new balance flashed on the screen. The number made her dizzy.

She stepped out of the bank and walked aimlessly down the empty pre-dawn streets.

She knew, from the moment she took that check, the only thing left between her and Jace Landry was a reckoning. And the dangerous man who had her bracelet was a variable she couldn't begin to calculate.

The taxi stopped outside the ornate iron gates of the Landry estate. Ellery paid the driver and stared at the magnificent building. It looked less like a home and more like a mausoleum.

She took a deep breath and pushed the heavy gate open. She had to get her things-and Lily's-and then leave this place forever.

Gardeners and maids paused their work as she walked up the long drive, their gazes a mixture of pity, contempt, and curiosity. Their whispers followed her like rustling leaves.

Ellery ignored them, her heels clicking a lonely, defiant rhythm on the marble path.

She had just stepped into the grand foyer when Jace Landry appeared at the top of the sweeping staircase. He was dressed in a flawless custom suit, his face arranged into its usual mask of gentle concern.

"You're back," he said. His voice was soft, but laced with the steel of absolute control. "Where were you last night?"

Ellery's eyes swept past him, landing on a ladies' handbag sitting on the living room console. It wasn't hers. It was Darla Evans's. The whispers of the staff she'd passed now made sense. Miss Evans stayed the night. The master is so good to her.

A cold, bitter laugh died in her throat. This was the man she had loved. Their daughter was barely cold, and he was already bringing his mistress into their home.

She didn't answer his question. "I'm here for my things," she said, her voice flat.

Jace's brow furrowed. He disliked this insubordination. He descended the stairs, blocking her path. "Ellery, we are not divorced. You are still Mrs. Landry."

He reached for her hand, but she snatched it away. It was the first time she had ever physically recoiled from him.

His face hardened, a flicker of something dark in his ice-blue eyes. "Don't forget, Lily is still waiting for a bone marrow match. Her surgery costs a fortune. Are you sure you want to make me angry right now?"

He thought the threat would work, as it always had. He thought it would turn her back into his obedient wife.

Hearing Lily's name from his lips made her nails dig into her palms. She lifted her head, meeting his eyes for the first time. The adoration that once filled her hazel gaze was gone, replaced by a chilling, bottomless hatred.

"Jace," she said, each word a shard of ice. "You don't have the right to say her name."

He was so taken aback by the unfamiliar coldness in her eyes that he was momentarily speechless.

Ellery walked around him, her back ramrod straight, like a soldier marching into battle.

Jace watched her go, a profound sense of unease creeping into his gut. The strings he'd held so tightly for so long felt as if they were about to snap.

He followed her up the stairs, refusing to let the situation spiral out of his control.

She entered the master bedroom. The space she had lived in for five years now reeked of Darla Evans's perfume. It made her stomach turn.

She ignored the opulent furniture and went straight to the walk-in closet, pulling a dusty suitcase from a back corner.

She began to pack, moving quickly, taking only a few simple items. The designer gowns Jace had bought her, she left untouched.

Jace leaned against the doorframe, watching her. "Are you done with this little scene?" he asked, his tone reverting to one of condescending patience. "I can pretend last night never happened."

Ellery didn't stop. She swept her personal jewelry from the vanity into a box.

Then, she turned toward the nursery. The one room Jace had forbidden her from entering, claiming it needed to remain a "sterile environment" for Lily.

He immediately moved to block her. "What do you think you're doing? The doctor said Lily's room must be kept exactly as it is!"

Ellery looked at his sanctimonious face, a sharp, painful irony twisting inside her. Lily was gone. Who was he still performing for?

She didn't try to force her way past. She just looked at him, her voice cold. "Lily's favorite teddy bear is in there. I'm taking it."

Jace hesitated. In his mind, it was a sentimental object, harmless. It could even be another tool to control her later. He stepped aside.

Ellery walked into her daughter's room. Everything was just as Lily had left it. She picked up the teddy bear from the crib, its fur worn smooth from years of love. Her vision blurred with tears.

She hugged the bear tightly, forcing the tears back. This was not the time to cry.

She walked out, placed the bear gently in the suitcase, and zipped it shut.

Jace, seeing her finality, finally lost his patience. He strode forward and grabbed her wrist. "I said, the drama is over. You're staying."

His grip was like iron, pain shooting up her arm. But this time, she didn't flinch. She didn't yield.

She looked up at him, and a strange, cold smile spread across her lips. It was a smile he had never seen before, and it sent a genuine chill of fear down his spine.

Jace's grip tightened, his unease warring with his anger. "What are you smiling at?"

He yanked her toward him, and his eyes fell on her neck. The faint, purplish marks there, not yet fully formed, were unmistakable. They were not his.

His face turned to stone. Possessiveness and a white-hot rage erupted inside him. He considered Ellery his property. Even if he didn't want her, no one else was allowed to touch her.

"What is this?" he snarled, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. He grabbed her chin, forcing her head up. "Who were you with last night?"

The pressure on her jaw was immense, but the mockery in Ellery's eyes only deepened.

She looked at his handsome face, now twisted with fury, and found it utterly pathetic. He brought his mistress into their home and dared to question her.

Her disdain fueled his rage. He shoved her against the wall, his large frame trapping her. "Speak! What man had the nerve to touch what's mine?"

His hand moved to her collar, tearing at the fabric, searching for more evidence of her betrayal.

Her back slammed against the wall, the impact knocking the wind out of her. Faced with his violation, a desperate courage born of disgust rose in her chest. She had to do it. She had to make him so repulsed by her that he would let her go for good.

Just as his mouth descended toward hers, Ellery spoke, her voice eerily calm, almost pitying.

"Jace, do you really want to know?"

Her tone, so devoid of fear, stopped him cold. He stared at her, his breath hot on her face.

Ellery held his gaze. "I was with someone last night," she said slowly, enunciating every word. "For money. To pay for Lily's medical bills."

The words were a slap, and he flinched. He had always controlled her finances completely. The thought of her finding her own means was galling.

But she wasn't finished. She leaned closer, her lips brushing his ear, and delivered the final, devastating blow.

"And to get back at you and Darla," she whispered, the sound for his ears only, "I made sure he wasn't clean."

She paused, letting the implication sink in before twisting the knife. "Congratulations, Jace. We might both be sick. Something... difficult to treat. An STD."

His body went rigid. He shoved her away from him as if she were a vial of poison.

His ice-blue eyes were wide with a mixture of disbelief and utter disgust.

"What... did you say?" His voice trembled with a rage so profound it left him shaking.

Ellery leaned against the wall, watching his horror with a grim satisfaction that felt hollow and tragic.

"What's wrong? Don't you understand?" she continued, her voice still brutally calm. "I said, I might have a sexually transmitted disease. If you've touched me recently... oh, I'm sorry. I forgot. You only touch your 'true love,' Darla. But just to be safe, I'd recommend you both get tested."

Jace's control shattered. The thought of his perfect, pristine life being tainted by something so... sordid, so dirty, was more than he could bear.

He pointed a trembling finger at her, his lips moving, but no words came out. Only a choking sound of revulsion.

"Get out!" he finally spat, the words torn from his throat. He stumbled backward, away from her, and lurched toward the master bathroom.

The sound of violent retching echoed from behind the closed door.

Ellery knew she had succeeded. A narcissist with a pathological fear of imperfection like Jace could never tolerate such a stain.

She felt no triumph, only a vast, aching emptiness. She stood up straight, smoothing her torn collar with a steady hand.

She walked to her suitcase and calmly pulled up the handle.

Pausing at the bathroom door, she spoke to the heaving man inside. "Jace, my lawyer will be sending you the divorce papers."

Then, without a backward glance, she dragged her suitcase out of the room, out of the gilded cage that had imprisoned her for five years.

Downstairs, the staff stared at her in shocked silence, their eyes darting from her to the sounds of destruction coming from the upper floor.

Ellery walked out the front door into the blinding sunlight. It felt like a rebirth, and also like stepping off a cliff into a deeper abyss.

She pulled her suitcase down the long, manicured driveway, her silhouette solitary and unyielding.

Behind her, from within the Landry estate, came the sharp, explosive sound of expensive porcelain shattering against a wall. The sound of Jace's impotent rage.