Once An Overlooked Housewife, Now A Queen Of Fortune

It was the thirtieth anniversary of Morel Industries.

And yet, as the legal wife of the CEO, Raine could only stand among the crowd like an outsider, watching her husband waltz across the floor with his mistress.

She fought to suppress her anger, forcing herself to stay composed. She was here tonight to solve problems, not create them.

Felix, however, seemed to be enjoying every second as he spun Bianca around, his hand locked around hers. His suit framed the broad lines of his back, a display of raw, animal power. His large palm gripped Bianca's slender waist possessively, as if she belonged to him. His chiseled, marble-like face-normally cold and severe-softened when he looked at his dance partner.

Raine could almost hear the collective sighs from the women nearby-at that moment, it was as if half the panties in the ballroom had spontaneously combusted.

Then Felix bent down and whispered something into Bianca's ear, making her laugh out loud.

Raine's fist tightened again. When she got nervous, she had a habit of digging her nails into her own palm.

Next to Bianca's radiance, Raine was nothing more than a ghost in Felix's world-forever out of reach.

They had been married for three years. Every night, she woke up at three in the morning to iron his shirts for the next day. Felix's obsession with perfection bordered on pathological-if he spotted even the faintest crease, his cold, cutting criticism would send her spiraling. So she ironed them again and again, for two straight hours, until the fabric was crisp enough to satisfy him.

The warm milk before bed, the perfectly ordered closet, the evenly trimmed garden fence-she had taught herself to live like a shadow, never to disturb him, because he hated any trace of a "second presence" in the house. For three years, her existence had been like air-ignored, invisible-yet she still longed for those fleeting moments of happiness when he came home.

But just yesterday morning, while she was grocery shopping, she saved an old man who had stumbled into the street. He had smiled at her and said, "You should see more of the world-it's a beautiful place."

That moment had felt like waking from a long sleep.

She finally understood-she couldn't spend the rest of her life chained to a man who had never loved her.

So when Bianca provoked her earlier today, Raine decided to come anyway-knowing Felix would explode, knowing he would yell.

Her thoughts were broken by a group of women gossiping nearby.

"I'm shocked-I mean, we all knew our CEO was married. But he never brings her to these things," one of them said, her eager eyes glued to Felix and Bianca still dancing. "And now he's letting another woman waltz with him for the opening number."

"That's normal," another woman scoffed. "Everyone knows his marriage was forced by his grandmother. Besides, his wife's supposedly hideous."

"If you were him, you'd lock her up too, wouldn't you?" a third woman added, rolling her eyes dramatically.

The first woman sighed. "Such a shame. Look at those two-they're perfect together. He belongs with someone like Bianca."

Raine kept listening, her lips curling in a silent, mocking smile. Ugly?

If they turned around, they'd see how absurd that sounded.

But of course, Felix had told the press his wife was "not fit for public appearances."

No wonder everyone thought she was some kind of monster.

Raine knew she was beautiful-anyone who had ever met her said so.

Everyone except Felix.

He despised her, as if that hatred had been carved into his DNA. Because to him, Raine was a symbol of his weakness-his grandmother had forced the marriage on him by threatening to cut off his inheritance.

And Raine? She had fallen for him the moment she saw him. She hadn't even hesitated three seconds before saying yes. She'd trusted the old woman's judgment.

But the old woman's hopes hadn't come true.

And Raine couldn't bear to tarnish the memory of the one kind person in that family by complaining about her grandson.

She shook her head. After tonight, everything would change.

She had barely taken five steps when someone blocked her way. Raine rolled her eyes.

Simone-Felix's sister, and another thorn in her side.

Simone looked around theatrically. "What are you doing here? Lost your way?"

Raine tried to step past her, but Simone moved again, blocking her.

"If you want my advice, I'd leave before Felix sees you. Clearly, you weren't invited."

Simone's laugh was icy, but Raine's poise remained steady, unnervingly calm. "Don't you have anything better to do, Simone?" she asked softly, tilting her head with a faintly mocking smile. "Oh, wait-I get it. No man tonight? Still chasing that Italian guy you've been after for three months-the one who can't even remember your name?"

"Shut up," Simone snapped.

Raine sighed theatrically, her smile sharp as a blade. "I may be pathetic, but at least my last name is Morel. You, on the other hand-cling to men like gum on a shoe. The sad part? They don't even notice you're there."

"You bitch," Simone hissed. "Watch your filthy mouth! At least I wasn't dragged into this family like a sewer rat by Grandma."

Spit splashed across Raine's cheek. She rolled her eyes in disgust. "For God's sake, Simone."

Pulling a handkerchief from her bag, she dabbed her face. "Do you spit on men during your dates too? No wonder none of them ever call you back."

The composure Simone had been faking shattered completely. She raised her hand, ready to slap Raine.

But Raine was faster. She snatched a glass of red wine from a waiter's tray and threw it straight into Simone's face.

Gasps rippled through the crowd; the air itself seemed to freeze in shock. Simone stumbled backward, hands over her eyes as the red liquid dripped down her neck, staining her dress.

Raine calmly set the empty glass back on the tray. "Go freshen up. At least now you've got something to do," she suggested coolly, stepping around Simone, leaving her drenched.

Ask Raine, and she'd tell you-the whole Morel family was a disgrace. Except for their late grandmother, who had once been kind; the rest were nothing but parasites, unworthy of the wealth they'd inherited.

Just then, Felix and Bianca stopped dancing, drawn by the commotion. Felix's eyes swept the crowd, landing on Raine, and his face darkened instantly. He released Bianca and pulled out his phone, typing quickly.

Raine glanced at her own screen-a message from Felix flashed across it: Follow me.

Then Felix disappeared behind the curtain. Bianca gave Raine a smug little smile and trailed after him.

The moment they were out of sight, Felix hissed, "What the hell are you doing here? How many times have I told you-stay away from my events. You came here to catch me cheating, didn't you?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Felix," Raine shot back. "It was your precious mistress who invited me. Apparently, she needed to prove she's your true love-and that she's got you wrapped around her finger."

Bianca gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Oh, Felix, that's not true! You know I'm pure, don't you?"

Raine rolled her eyes. How could Felix still fall for Bianca's pathetic acting? It had to be dopamine-love must've fried his brain.

"Please, Bianca," she sneered. "Don't tell me you didn't know deleted texts can be recovered from your trash folder. Why don't you show us your phone-"

"Enough!" Felix roared, his handsome face hard and unapologetic. "Raine! I've had it with your dramatics. Stop pretending to be the poor, wronged wife. Look at yourself," he spat, his gaze sweeping over her with contempt. "Compared to Bianca, you're just a pathetic housewife. Tonight is crucial for Morel's image. I won't risk a scandal because of you. Leave. Now."

"I understand," Raine said coolly. "If the company's image depends on your mistress, then yes-Bianca's the perfect choice."

Bianca's smile froze.

Felix's eyes blazed with fury, burning holes through her. Raine instinctively stepped back, but he lunged forward, grabbing her arm.

"Of course," he growled, voice low and dangerous. "Bravery courtesy of champagne? Go vomit it out."

His grip was scorching, his muscles taut as steel, trapping her like a vise. Raine's chest tightened; before she could fight back, her body betrayed her with a slight, involuntary shiver. She bit her tongue hard, swallowing the humiliation.

"Let go, Felix. It's not that complicated." She wrenched free. "I came here to tell you-"

Before she could finish, a familiar voice interrupted.

"Felix!"

The moment he saw the approaching couple, Felix dropped her arm and forced a smile.

"Mr. and Mrs. Adler! What a surprise-so good to see you here." He shook their hands quickly.

Mr. Adler chuckled. "The pleasure's ours. Our engagement dinner ended early, and my wife insisted on meeting your wife."

Felix's smile stiffened; his face tightened again.

Mrs. Adler added warmly, "That's right. They say behind every successful man is a woman. We were hoping to meet yours, Mr. Morel."

Then both their gazes shifted-to the two women standing side by side.

"So," Mrs. Adler said with a polite but pointed smile, "tell us-

which one is your wife?"

Raine folded her arms and watched Felix with a cold, mocking smile. His chiseled face tightened, as if admitting she was his wife would somehow end his life.

But she knew the Adler family valued one thing above all else-family.

Of course, Felix never had to worry about projects. Every company wanted to work with the Morel Group. They had their fingers in everything-artificial intelligence, real estate, fashion.

Raine waited for him to say Bianca's name. The moment he did, she could file for divorce without hesitation.

He had just opened his mouth when Bianca jumped in first. "Honestly, what value can a mere housewife bring to her husband's success? Success isn't about who washes the dishes better," she said with an exaggerated eye roll.

Mrs. Adler's brows furrowed. She turned sharply toward Bianca. "Excuse me? And who exactly is this rude woman?"

Bianca's face twisted in anger, ready to snap back, but Felix's stern glare silenced her immediately.

"My apologies, Mrs. Adler. Don't mind her," Felix said quickly, pulling Bianca behind him. "She's had too much to drink-she's a bit dizzy. I'm truly sorry for her behavior-"

"No." Mrs. Adler's voice cracked through the air like a whip, laced with outrage. "As a woman who chose to build a family, I understand the labor and sacrifice that takes. Family is the foundation of Adler Holdings. And you choose to ignore that? We don't work with people who disregard our values."

Raine saw Felix's expression darken. She hadn't planned to intervene, but since she was divorcing him anyway, she might as well do one last good deed-for his grandmother's sake, if not his.

And maybe for herself. Because even though Felix had treated her like a doormat, his cold, solid house had given her the one thing she'd always wanted-safety. Ever since that rainy night when she was almost hit by a car, she'd had nightmares every night until Felix started sleeping beside her.

For all his flaws-for all his cruelty-Felix wasn't purely evil. He could be a good man too. But now, she was strong enough to stand on her own.

Raine stepped forward with a calm smile and embraced Mrs. Adler. "I'm so sorry for the delay, Mrs. Adler. Please don't take her words to heart," she said softly, gesturing toward Bianca. "She's just accompanying one of our executives. She doesn't understand the seriousness of this situation-or what true partnership really means. Of course, she'll apologize for her behavior." Raine tilted her head and gave Bianca a sweet, deadly smile. "Won't you, Bianca?"

Bianca flushed with humiliation. She opened her mouth to protest, but Felix's razor-sharp gaze froze her in place.

"Do it, Bianca," Felix ordered, his tone clipped and icy. "Or you'll be escorted out of the gala."

Bianca's jaw trembled. "She's right," she muttered through gritted teeth. "I apologize for the misunderstanding." Then, burning with shame, she slipped away.

"Glad that's cleared up," said Mr. Adler coolly. "But Mr. Morel, I must question your company's judgment-bringing such an uncultured woman to an elite event was a very poor choice. I'd advise you to raise your standards in the future."

Felix's face turned even darker, but Raine stepped in smoothly, looping her arm through his. "Of course. My husband will make sure of that," she said with poise.

"Oh my! So you're Mr. Morel's wife?" Mrs. Adler exclaimed, beaming. "Mr. Morel, you're a lucky man."

Felix's arm slid naturally around Raine's waist as he faced them. "Allow me to properly introduce my wife-Raine Morel."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Raine said evenly, extending her hand. "I truly admire your company's commitment to family values. Why don't you try some of the hors d'oeuvres at the reception? I can assure you Felix will make your next project a priority."

"Wonderful!" Mrs. Adler took her hand, delighted. "Felix, you shouldn't keep such a gem hidden away. Bring her out more often-I'm sure it'll make Morel Enterprises even stronger."

"I will," Felix said through gritted teeth. "I had no idea my wife was this impressive."

As the Adlers walked away, the spotlight once again caught Felix and Raine in its glow. He reached out to pull her close, but she gently slapped his hand away.

"Drop the act," Raine said in a low, icy tone. "I'll be waiting at home. We still have unfinished business."

Then she turned and walked away-steady steps, spine straight-leaving him standing alone.

Around them, whispers began to ripple through the crowd-

"Oh my God, that's Mr. Morel's wife."

"We were just saying she was plain. She's actually gorgeous-and a hell of a lot smarter than Bianca."

Raine didn't look back to see Felix's face. She strode out of the hall, already thinking about packing her bags.

<><><><><

It was already past midnight. Raine's suitcase sat neatly in the front hall, waiting.

She was still waiting for Felix.She stood before the tall windows of the house, gazing across at a wedding celebration in the neighboring building.

The carefree joy she saw made her ache. Once upon a time, she had yearned for that kind of happiness. In her youth, she had believed her marriage would be like that. She had been wrong-so terribly, fatally wrong.

Her soft sigh fogged the glass.

"Explain to me what you meant by that earlier."

She turned. Felix stood there, brow furrowed.

"Good. I've been waiting for you to come back," Wren replied.

His anger surged as he stalked toward her, towering above her. She lifted her chin defiantly. "You enjoy humiliating me, don't you?"

"You're pathetic," she sneered. She could hardly believe she had once loved this man. Years of her life-wasted.

She shoved a folder against his chest, stepping back, suffocated by the stench of alcohol clinging to him. Suffocated, just as this house had always suffocated her.

Felix scowled down at the papers.

"What is this?" He blinked at the words.

"Divorce papers."

"And where exactly do you think you'll go after the divorce?" Felix asked with contempt.

"Have you forgotten what you were when Grandmother took you in? You had nothing," he added, raking her with a scornful look.

At the news, his face betrayed not a flicker of surprise-only the raw hatred he'd always harbored for her. After all, the grandmother who had arranged their marriage was gone now, dead a year. If she truly suffocated him so badly, why had he never mentioned divorce first?

"Drop the act, Felix. Don't pretend you care where I end up. You should throw yourself a party," she said with a cold smile. "Consider this my parting gift to you. Freedom. Now you can run to your darling Bianca-or Jessica-or whatever her name is this week."

Her eyes flicked to the papers in his hand. "Sign them quickly. Let's not waste any more time."

"I'd be delighted," Felix said through clenched teeth. "I'm thrilled to finally be rid of you, Raine." His eyes were bloodshot.

Raine glanced at the freshly signed papers and let out a faint smile. "Me too. I'm glad we finally agree on something."

Before Felix could fire back, she grabbed her suitcase and walked out.For some reason, even the air smelled fresher. It was as if a muscle that had been clenched for years had finally loosened.

She slid into her car, tossing the envelope with the final documents onto the back seat beside her two suitcases.

Now what?

For the next few days, a motel would suffice while she searched for an affordable apartment. She had a small nest egg saved from her time helping Felix's grandmother. Not much, but enough to cover her basic needs.

She turned the ignition. The car sputtered with a sickly cough.

"Not now," she muttered, gripping the wheel. She tried again-nothing.

Just as she debated whether to call a mechanic, she noticed a sleek luxury car pulling in behind her. A tall figure stepped out. Wren's breath caught when she saw his face. Silver hair did nothing to dull his handsomeness-if anything, it made him more magnetic.

"Omar?" she asked uncertainly. As the figure drew closer, her heart pounded. Memories of her foolish infatuation with him came rushing back-the stupid things she had done, and the look of disgust in his eyes when he had rejected her.

Her expression hardened. She reached to close the window.

But Omar's strong arm stopped it, blocking her.

"Long time no see, Re."

"Of course," Omar went on, flashing that gentleman's smile she had once adored. He winked. "You're still our most distinguished heiress."

Wren's first instinct was to slam her foot on the gas, but unfortunately, her car had just broken down. Right when she was about to step into her new life, it chose to betray her.

Wren forced herself to relax her facial muscles, then curved her lips into a confident smile.

"Tell me, Omar, what are you doing here? Don't tell me you regret rejecting my confession back then?" She raised her brows playfully. "Though it's a pity-your full head of gray hair isn't really my taste anymore."

Omar froze, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

"Wren." He drew in a deep breath, his voice low and heavy. "Don't provoke me with jokes like that. You know very well-it was nothing more than your youthful impulse. I. I've always seen you as my daughter."

Wren narrowed her eyes, her smile sharpening.

"Daughter? What an honor. But what kind of father would say in a board meeting that I'm unfit to be an heir? Daddy, your love is truly special."

With that, she moved to close the car door. She had just gotten divorced, and she didn't want anyone watching her fall apart-least of all Omar and his father.

They had found her a year ago, but she told them she refused to return to that toxic family. She was happy, as if living in paradise.

God, was he here to mock her on her father's behalf?

"That's not true," Omar said.

"Then why are you here?" Wren cut him off. It didn't matter-she would stick to her choice and never reconnect with them.

"I heard about the divorce," Omar said in a low voice.

There it was. Finally. Wren rolled her eyes.

She let out a cold laugh, slowly folding her arms across her chest like building an invisible wall.

"Of course I'm not surprised you know about it. After all these years, he's still in the habit of planting spies behind my back." She lifted her chin, her voice dripping with mockery.

Omar frowned. "Don't think that way, Wren. He's not spying on you. He still cares about his daughter."

"Right!" Wren gave a soft laugh. "So he sent you here to remind me that his prediction about my marriage failing came true. Be sure to congratulate him for me."

Omar sighed. "He sent me because he knows you're vulnerable."

"Vulnerable? Twelve years ago I cut ties with him for a reason, Omar! Remember?"

Her mother had been fighting cancer, life hanging by a thread, while her father carried on an affair with a mistress. That woman even moved into her house not long after her mother's funeral. His excuse was that the doctors said her mother wouldn't live, that depression had driven him into the affair, that he couldn't bear the pain.

In the end, her mother committed suicide. Betrayal had driven Wren to run away from home at sixteen. She believed living under the same roof with the man who had caused her mother's death was a betrayal to her.

That very day, she'd been in an accident, falling into a coma for two weeks. When she woke, she learned the one who had saved her was Felix's grandmother, Maria. Maria had taken her in, and before she married Felix, Wren had lived with them for six years. Her father had always warned her that marriage was a mistake, but she had refused to have anything to do with him.

Omar looked at her car and let out a weary sigh.

"Come with me. Let's talk somewhere better. I'll have someone take care of your car."

--

"He wants you to take the VP position at Ellington Innovation's New York branch." In the jazz-filled bar, Omar finally revealed his purpose.

Damn it, Omar's words still had an effect on her. She was sure she didn't like him, but she still trusted him. After all, aside from opposing her inheritance, he was the one who would rush in on stormy nights to help her sleep, the one who'd sneak her sandwiches when her stepmother withheld her meals-right in front of that woman.

That was why she had agreed to follow Omar to the bar, at least to spare him some embarrassment.

Hearing his words, Wren was silent for a moment, frowning.

"Why? He has another daughter." Her father had never liked her. He only doted on her stepmother's daughter, always saying her stepsister was his pride.

Omar pressed his lips together, his voice slower but still heavy.

"But you've always been his treasure too. It was your stepmother whispering in his ear-saying you were spoiled, reckless, unstable-that made him so harsh with you."

Wren was surprised. Why would her stone-hearted father suddenly change?

Omar paused, his gaze falling on her before continuing.

"Just last year, your father began to realize something was wrong with your stepmother's words. He often called me over, asking about you. He dug out your college transcripts, even the records Madam Maria left behind. That's when he realized. you'd always been excellent. Just hidden."

Wren thought she should feel happy-she had finally won her father's recognition. But that could never be enough. Unless he could bring her mother back to life. She thought of her mother's pained expression. Her father could have waited until after her mother's death to parade his mistress into that villa.

But he hadn't. He'd wanted to wound her. Her fists clenched tight.

"I'll give you time to think about it," Omar said gently, noticing the turmoil written across her face.

In the underground bar, he slid a platinum keycard across the leather console between them.

"This is a penthouse on Central Park West. No matter what you decide, it's yours." He paused. "There's no pressure. But I truly believe the rightful heiress should return to her place."

Wren stared at the card. She could find a temporary place to live. But accepting it meant betraying her mother. She had always run from her father to carry her mother's pain. Yet she knew-if she took that card, she might uncover the truth about her mother's death. A truth she had never told anyone.

And she wasn't about to. Not until she had the answer.

Omar's warm palm rested on her back. He sighed.

"Wren, listen. I know why you left. You fear that accepting your father's offer means betraying your mother. But it's not like that. I knew your mother. She wanted you to be happy. She wanted you to fight back, hard, against them. That's what she always did."

"As long as we're alive, the outcome is still up in the air." Wren remembered her mother always saying that. Which meant her mother would never have killed herself for this.

Omar saw her hesitation and added, "This time, I promise I'll be on your side."

"I'll accept it," Wren nodded. "But not out of trust for you. I just don't want to disappoint my mother."

The tension in Omar's face eased, and he exhaled in relief.

"Good. Wren, your mother would be proud of you. Your resilience exceeds anything I imagined. You can do this."

"But I have one condition. I don't want to see my father yet. You have to promise me that," she added.

"I promise," Omar assured her.

Wren quickly signed the contract. As she was leaving, Omar called after her.

"Wren, I'm sorry. I apologize for my old, narrow-minded views. You will succeed. You'll be the greatest heiress."

Wren smirked. She didn't care for his judgments anymore. She just wanted out. When they stepped out of the building, Omar opened the car door for her and waited until she settled inside.

"Ah, almost forgot. William sends his regards. He says he misses you."

"William?" Wren searched the dusty corridors of her memory. She recalled a twelve-year-old boy-chubby cheeks, earnest eyes behind thick glasses. She laughed.

"The chubby kid who used to trail after me like a lost puppy?"

Omar tilted his head slowly. "Yes. I suppose we could call him 'that chubby kid.'"

Just then, a woman in a tight dress walked toward the car, her eyes fixed on Omar.

"Hey, handsome. Interested in a drink?"

Omar's expression darkened. He was about to refuse-he had never liked casual flings-but Wren shoved him toward the woman immediately.

"Of course! My daddy could really use someone to help smooth out his wrinkles. Go on, or else it'll be past his bedtime."

"Wren." Omar warned, but Wren just laughed and darted into a cab waiting at the curb.

As soon as she sat down, her thoughts leapt back to William.

What was that boy like now? She remembered how mortified she'd been when he declared in front of all her friends that he'd marry her one day. She couldn't help laughing at the memory.

Shaking her head in amusement, she realized her childhood had indeed been happy. But now, the only thing that mattered was learning how to run a company-and uncovering the truth behind her mother's death.