Revenge on the Billionaire

"Ashley? That ghoul! She'll scare away children!"

As Ashley Palmer stepped out of the shower in a robe, these words rang in her head. She walked into her sprawling master suite, perched on the fifty-first floor of Malory Towers, the tallest building in Norwich.

"God knows how the ugly wh0re seduced Jake."

The world was envious of her a long time back. Now it hated and ridiculed her.

Ashley looked around, hoping to find comfort in luxury. The room had designer club chairs and sofas upholstered on cocktail tables. A stylish credenza and tripod floor lamp stood beside an anthracite side table.

She turned to the east city view, a wall made entirely of Saint-Gobain glass. Custom-made rugs covered the floor space. The extravagance did not bring Ashley any delight anymore. A long time ago, she was spoiled and adored. Now she was treated like an animal.

Jake Grayson, Chairman and CEO of Grayson Inc., was her husband. He was one of the most desired men in the city. However, he was the sole cause of her suffering.

An expansive mirror covered the wall near the changing room. Ashley approached it and examined herself in the mirror. A natural strawberry blonde, her hair was the cause of envy.

Ashley went for a jog every morning and worked out in the gym in the evenings. Her body was taut and slender with firm bre@sts. But her face contrasted the rest of her features. She hated her face. It was hideous!

Ashley used to be beautiful. However, she became a survivor of a horrific crime. A group of masked men abducted her on the day of her engagement. People found her disfigured and unconscious on the pavement the following day. The skin of her face was peeled, and her body was bruised and bleeding. She recovered her general health, but her face and psyche did not.

Multiple plastic surgeries only made matters worse. The scars were everywhere: her forehead, cheeks, chin, lips, and nose. Even her earlobes were affected.

Ashley would still have a reason to be happy if not for the trials of her personal and social life.

Ashley's marriage to Jake was a sham. It was a front for the corporate merger of Grayson Communications and Palmer Industries Inc., her father Arthur Palmer's company.

Ashley and Jake were the hottest couple in town before the tragic incident. After her disfigurement, her face became hideous, and people assumed Jake would dump her. However, the Palmers followed through to sustain the merger.

Ashley's mother had died of cancer when she was young, and Arthur had remarried a woman named Mary. Scarlet, Ashley's stepsister, had supported Ashley throughout the nightmare, attending to her at the hospital and helping her through the legal procedures.

"Don't worry, sister. As long as I am by your side, you're safe."

However, the brutal attack on her was not the end. Her troubles had just begun.

Along with her, Tessa Grayson, Jake's eighteen-year-old sister, had also gone missing. She was found dead, her body disfigured and her throat slit.

Police forensics were shocked to find Tessa's murder weapon covered with Ashley's fingerprints. Phone records indicated Tessa was supposed to meet Ashley for lunch during those hours.

The cops grilled her for days, but Ashley had no information to give.

"The last thing I remember is the masked men drugging me and throwing me into a van," she explained to them. "I woke up in the hospital with her face covered in bandages! How could you think I did this to myself?!"

The District Attorney named Ashley as the principal suspect in the murder of Tessa Grayson. The prosecution argued that Ashley had staged the attack on herself. They tried to establish that her motive behind killing her sister-in-law was to be the sole partner in Grayson Enterprises after getting married to Jake.

An expensive lawyer hired by Arthur Palmer got the case dismissed on a technicality. But Jake never forgave Ashley and said so to her face while she was in the hospital.

"I know you killed my sister, Ash. You'll pay for it dearly."

It was surprising when he married her regardless of his hatred. She knew the reason why on their wedding night. Jake arrived in their bedroom drunk and high on cocaine. The monstrous look in his eyes was enough to scare her into submission.

"Fxcking ugly slxt!" he spat. "You deserve that sh!tty face!"

"Jake..."

"Ashley Palmer! Look at you, in your lavish gowns, while my sister lies in a coffin! Are you happy now?"

"No, Jake, it wasn't me! Please believe me! I would never hurt Tessa!"

"Stop lying, b!tch! Nobody believes your deception! You killed her and thought you could usurp her shares? Fxcking slxt! I've been waiting for this day to give you your punishment!"

Ashley stared in horror as Jake tore off her clothes. He pinned her down to the bed when she protested and bound her with chains. Taking off his leather belt, he strapped her naked body until it was covered with bruises. Ashley screamed till she passed out, but nobody came to her aid.

Days turned into months, and Jake's physical torture turned sexual. He'd put a bag over her head and fxck her till she was sore and half-unconscious. Leather straps, barbed whips, massive d!ldos, hanging swings; her abusive husband crossed all limits of hardcore torture.

Ashley never reported her suffering to anyone because she thought she deserved the punishment.

"Perhaps it is my fault all this happened," she told herself. "If I had been with Tessa that day, she wouldn't have been killed."

"One day, Jake will see the truth and forgive me."

Yet, the abuse never stopped. Jake came to her several times a week and violated her against her will, all the while hurling filthy curses and experimenting with all sorts of torture instruments.

Ashley let the bathrobe slip off and examined her naked body. There were visible marks of nail scratches and scars on her back-a few noticeable bite marks on her breasts. Cigarette burns on her thighs and buttocks. Some wounds were fresh from last night.

Tears filled in her eyes, but she did not cry. "I've wept enough."

"I will never be able to prove my innocence. Jake will never stop abusing me. In fact, he seems to enjoy it."

Only one solution could break the vicious cycle. It was time to end her marriage.

"I'm going to ask Jake for a divorce. And I'll do it with style."

Ashley wore a dark blue skirt suit, sheer stockings, and purple pump heels. She added to that a Philip Treacy fascinator hat with a face net. Ashley loved the public attention that her luscious body drew. She equally despised the gasps her damaged face induced. And hence, occult fashion wear suited her best.

As she walked out of the suite, a butler, two footmen, and three maids-in-waiting surrounded her, asking for orders. She dismissed them all.

Two Master Suites and twelve bedrooms adorned Malory Towers. But she did not have to go through all of them to leave the building. The billionaire's wife took a private turbo elevator with fingerprint security next to her bedroom door. Only Jake, Ashley, and the Head Butler had access to it. She reached the ground floor within a minute.

Outside, a 1936 Mercedes-Benz had been warmed up for her. Two valets and a chauffeur stood in waiting. One took her bag; another opened the door for her.

"Where to, Mrs. Grayson?" the chauffeur asked merrily.

"To the company headquarters."

"Oh good, shall I call in and inform Mr. Grayson's secretary?"

"Oh no, I want it to be a surprise. I wish to see the look on my hubby's face."

"Very, well, ma'am. We'll be there in a jiffy!"

***

Ashley entered the towering Grayson Entertainment Inc. building alone. She made heads turn as she cat-walked in, swinging her hips the long way to the reception. The suit clung to her like skin, outlining her curves, pokes, and handles. The face net of the designer hat hid her face.

"Wait until you see my face, you jerk-offs," Ashley cursed under her breath, "Or perhaps some among you have a fetish for deformed faces."

The receptionist hailed her. "Hello. Welcome to Grayson Entertainment. Are you here for an audition?"

Ashley stood there and said nothing, staring a hole into the forehead of the receptionist.

"Ma'am?"

The Head Receptionist came running from the back office as he spotted Ashley walk in through the security cameras. He chastised the receptionist. "This is Mrs. Grayson, you idiot!"

"Oh, I am so sorry, ma'am, "the receptionist apologized.

"Forgive her, Mrs. Grayson. She's new. Please come this way," the Chief Receptionist beckoned her. "I will personally escort you to the management floor."

The CEO's office was on the forty-fifth floor. The Chief Receptionist informed Tammy, Jake's private secretary, of Ashley's arrival through the lift intercom. Tammy waited outside his room like a sentinel. She was a tall redhead bombshell.

"Mrs. Grayson, this is a pleasant surprise," she said with a plastic smile. "Mr. Grayson is just about to wrap up an important meeting. He's asked you to wait in the VIP lounge."

Ashley knew that Tammy was one of Jake's playthings. He had fxcked her more times than his wife. Usually, she'd ignore Tammy, but today was different.

"Get out of my way, slut!" Ashley snapped and barged into Jake's office.

The CEO's corner office boasted decadent decor, mineral-plated desks, and stylish swivel chairs. It boasted a luxurious lounge space with a liquor bar. A series of designer desk lamps and elegant bookcases were aesthetically placed. Serene blue statement lighting added a classy ambiance. The entire office was fitted with state-of-the-art technology.

As Ashley entered, she ran into a young woman who was leaving. She recognized the woman as an attractive lead in one of Grayson Entertainment's movie productions. The actress shied away from Ashley, keeping her eyes down while wiping her face with a bundle of tissues.

Jake's chair was facing away, towards the panoramic view of the city. The CEO relaxed on it, unperturbed by his wife's rude intrusion.

"Jake!" Ashley thundered. "Wasn't that woman Tiffany Williams from the show Good Cop Bad Cop? Does getting a blowjob from a studio actress qualify as an 'important meeting?'"

Jake Grayson swiveled around on his chair and left his seat. He was a handsome man in his early thirties. His wavy jet-black hair was swept back with pomade. He walked over to the liquor bar and fixed himself a neat scotch.

"What are you doing here, Ashley?" he posed, gradually strolling towards her.

"Oh, now you remember my name? For a long time, all you've addressed me as 'b*tch and wh*re! Or did you forget, Jake? You raped me! Abused me! Used me as your punching bag for years! And now you remember my name?!"

Jake stopped a few feet away, taken aback by her sudden outburst. Ashley was usually submissive and never objected to his torture apart from crying out in pain.

The billionaire's eyes flickered and focused on her with piercing intensity. Who was this changed woman?

Ashley had not seen Jake sober for a while now. He always came to see her when he was drunk or high. With bloodshot eyes, jittery limbs, and on the verge of passing out, her husband violated her. He was a monster of her nightmares.

In the real world, he looked different. Charming. Composed. Well-spoken. Rakishly good-looking. The man she fell in love with.

Ashley bit her lip nervously. Her punishment would be severe if she had an outburst like this at night. He'd fish out the barbed whips and face gags. However, the morning Jake made no such advance.

"Don't waste my time," he uttered bitterly. "Tell me what you want."

Ashley felt cold and alone. She wanted Jake to understand her, but now it was too late. She had already decided.

"Jake," her voice trembled. "All I wanted was for you to see the truth and forgive me. To love me like you did before THIS happened to me." She cast off her netted hat to show her mangled face. Her husband flinched.

"But all you wanted was to vent your anger on me. At some point, you began enjoying it. Now, I've had enough."

'Don't do it, Ashley,' a voice inside her urged. 'Stay with Jake. He's your one true love. He's suffering, and you're his cure.'

Ashley shook her head. That was classic Stockholm syndrome when the victim sympathized with the abuser.

"A little bit of torture doesn't hurt, Ash," Jake said, taking another sip of his drink. "Don't you like it when I hurt you? You're my special plaything." His eyes shimmered like a bottomless ocean, drawing her in.

The overpowering charm and urges of her submissive voice had misled her. They had made her weak. They had brought three years of violation and suffering. The horrors of the previous night's abuse were still fresh in her mind. Without a doubt, Jake Grayson was a monster hidden among men.

No more.

Ashley walked towards him and slammed a document on the CEO's desk. "These are our divorce papers. I have already signed them."

Jake looked at her coldly. Something had snapped in his submissive wife. She was no longer under his control. For a moment, Ashley saw fear in his eyes.

"My legal team will be in touch with you," Jake replied curtly. "You can leave."

Ashley was not surprised by his composure. He was a magnate among men, the alpha at the top of the pecking order. He could easily make mincemeat of situations like these.

"Goodbye, Jake. I will see you in court."

The billionaire's wife put on her netted hat and left the building.

As her heels tapped across the pavement, Ashley let out a sigh of relief.

'It's finally over! I've taken control of my life!'

A million things ran through her mind. What was she going to do now?

She could return home and help her step-sister, Scarlet, run the family business. Perhaps things were finally going to get better.

When Ashley reached the parking area, her phone beeped. It was a message from Harry Doyle.

Ashley had hired a private detective to find evidence of her innocence. Doyle came highly recommended but so far had yet to produce any results. His monthly fee had ballooned to five thousand dollars already.

Doyle's usual messages were random updates about how he revisited the crime scenes and interviewed witnesses. Nothing conclusive.

However, today's message was different. Ashley's eyes widened as she read it.

[ Come to our usual location ]

[ I've solved the case! I know who killed Tessa Grayson ]

Ashley abandoned the Grayson household car and took an Uber to Macintosh Square, where the private detective she hired- Harry Doyle, was waiting for her. The location was a more serene part of the city with parks and fountains and greenery. It was the perfect site for clandestine meetings.

On the way, Ashley texted her stepsister Scarlet.

Ashley << I served Jake divorce papers!

Scarlet << Go go, girl power!

Ashley << Coming back home today.

Scarlet << Woohoo, I'll arrange a party!

Ashley << nothing over the top, please!

Scarlet << I promise (liar emoji).

Ashley wondered what her life would be without Scarlet. She'd probably have killed herself. Scarlet always lent an ear to her, listening to her ordeals in great detail. She was her one true friend.

Scarlet always made time for her, even though she was running Palmer enterprises as CEO. Their father, Arthur, had wanted Ashley to lead the company, but the tragic events in her life had left his daughter too traumatized for the job. Scarlet had reluctantly filled the role but constantly poked Ashley to come back and relieve her. She wanted to travel the world and meet her soul mate.

The Uber car stopped beside the Crown Fountain, a popular site for lovers' meetings. There were couples of all age gaps, and hence it was ideal for those trying to be inconspicuous.

Harry Doyle was a middle-aged man with greying hair and a beer belly. Dressed in a shabby suit and hat, he leaned on the bonnet of his old Toyota Prius, smoking a cigarette. Doyle stubbed out the bud as he saw Ashley approaching.

"How are ya doll," he asked in his raspy, annoying voice. His stares always creeped Ashley out. But then, he was reliable, discrete, and came well-recommended.

"I can see you haven't gotten rid of your Prius yet, Harry," Ashley jabbed.

"This mama helps me blend in, doll," he replied, tapping the trunk of the car with a ring. "And the decent mileage doesn't hurt."

"If you say so," Ashley teased, leaning on the trunk beside him, "Now, spill the beans."

He had categorically stated in his message that he had found Tessa's murderer. If he had evidence, then she could bring them to the police. Jake would finally believe her, and she won't have to go through the divorce.

"Ah, about the paycheck, first, doll."

Ashley fished into her purse and removed a paper bag. Doyle extended his hand to relieve her of it, but her client held it back.

"I have your ten thousand dollars. Tell me what you have discovered first," Ashley asserted.

"I'll do you one better. I will show you."

Doyle opened the back door of his Prius and invited Ashley in. He removed a laptop from a bag and placed the mouse pointer on a video file.

"This isn't going to be easy, doll. But you can stop watching anytime you want."

"Why are you being so ominous? Who is the culprit?"

"See for yourself."

And he hit play. The video looked like it was taken from a CCTV security camera. Three masked figures stood inside an empty garage which looked abandoned. Two men entered the garage through an overhead door. Each of them had a person mounted on his shoulder.

"This footage was recovered from an abandoned garage in Alpine Hills. It took me years to hunt this down."

"Alpine Hills? That's where Palmer estate is."

"Keep watching," Doyle instructed.

The men carrying the bodies approached the three waiting figures and deposited the loads on the floor. Ashley tried to make out the faces of the bodies.

"Oh my God, that's-"

"-You. And the other body is Tessa," Doyle completed her sentence.

One of the masked figures produced a pocket knife and cut Tessa's throat. Blood spewed out onto the floor, forming a puddle. The killing was not a struggle as the girl was drugged. The blood spread under the other body.

"That's why the police found Tessa's blood on my clothes!" Ashley declared.

Then, the wielder of the pocket knife started peeling off the skin from Ashley's face.

Ashley, watching the video, felt her blood run cold. She wrapped her arms around herself to prevent from shaking. Doyle raised an arm to comfort her but then changed his mind. He paused the video.

"Are you sure you can watch further? We can just take it to the police."

"Let me watch it," Ashley murmured.

Her fear somewhat subsided after the culprit was done with her face in the video. Now, she wanted to know who the murderer was.

After committing the brutalities, the figure removed the mask and turned around to go.

Ashley squinted at the video. And without doubt, she could recognize the culprit. It was Scarlet!

Scarlet! Her stepsister!

The world seemed to collapse around Ashley. Her stomach lurched, and she felt queasy. She got out of the car and threw up into a bush.

"Fuck! What the fuck!"

"Scarlet did this?!

"But why?! It can't be real. It's a mistake, Harry!"

"I know this is a lot to take, doll," Doyle explained. "But I have a flash drive full of WhatsApp chats in which Scarlet had elaborate discussions with goons about planning to kill Tessa and mutilate you."

"But it does not make sense! Scarlet was the one who supported me through all the pain."

"I can't speak as to her motives yet. But the evidence is damning. And enough for a conviction. Should I make the call to the cops?"

Ashley's mind raced.

"No, not yet, Harry. Do you have a backup of the video and the data?"

"Of course I do."

"Delete everything after loading it on the flash drive."

Doyle protested at first but finally did as requested.

Ashley took the flash drive, passed Doyle the bag of money, and hailed a taxi.

"I've sent the video to your mail, but I will hold on to the data till midnight just in case you change your mind!" Doyle called after her, but Ashley was barely listening.

When the taxi stopped, she said, "Palmer Estate."

On her way, she texted Jake.

<< I know who killed Tessa. I have evidence.

<< Come to dad's place.