The Jilted Ex-Wife's Lethal Comeback

The antique grandfather clock against the far wall ticked.

Eleven-thirty.

Audrey Chaney sat at the end of the three-meter mahogany dining table. The silence in the Manhattan penthouse was heavy enough to crush her lungs.

She stared at the plate in front of her. The beef Wellington was ice cold. The pastry had congealed into a sad, greasy shell.

A sharp ding echoed from the private elevator.

Audrey's pulse jumped. She immediately stood up, her hands smoothing down the sides of her silk dress. Her chest tightened with a desperate, pathetic flare of hope.

The polished metal doors slid open.

It wasn't her husband.

Genevieve Savage stepped out. Kingston's mother wore a tailored Chanel suit, her sharp heels clicking against the Italian marble floor in a slow, rhythmic threat. Right behind her was Brenda, the head maid, carrying a small silver tray.

Genevieve stopped at the edge of the dining room. Her cold eyes swept over the table. She looked at the two heart-shaped candles burning in the center.

She let out a harsh, scraping sneer.

Audrey swallowed the lump forming in her throat. She lowered her chin, forcing her hands to unclench at her sides.

"Mother," Audrey said softly.

Genevieve didn't acknowledge the greeting. She walked right up to Audrey, her gaze dragging up and down Audrey's body like she was inspecting a defective piece of machinery.

"Look at you," Genevieve said, her voice dripping with venom. "Sitting here like a useless ornament. You contribute absolutely nothing to this family."

Brenda stepped forward. She extended the silver tray.

On it sat a glass of warm water and two small, white pills.

"Take your premium vitamins," Genevieve ordered.

They weren't vitamins. Audrey knew exactly what they were. They were high-grade sedatives. Genevieve's personal prescription to ensure her lowborn daughter-in-law remained docile, quiet, and perfectly submissive.

Audrey's stomach violently cramped. Acid burned the back of her throat.

"My stomach hurts tonight," Audrey whispered, her fingers trembling as she gripped the edge of the table. "I don't think I should-"

"You will take them," Genevieve snapped. The air in the room dropped ten degrees. "Do not forget where you came from, Audrey. The only reason you are allowed to breathe the air in a Savage property is because you are obedient. Do not test me."

Brenda didn't wait for Audrey to reach out. The maid grabbed Audrey's wrist and shoved the glass into her hand.

Water sloshed over the rim. It soaked into the bodice of Audrey's carefully chosen silk dress, leaving a dark, ugly stain over her ribs.

Genevieve's eyes bored into her. Waiting.

Audrey's chest heaved. The humiliation burned hot behind her eyes, but the fear of being thrown back into the gutter was stronger. She picked up the two white pills. She placed them on her tongue.

She drank the water. The bitter chalk coated her throat as she forced them down.

Genevieve let out a satisfied hum.

"Don't flatter yourself, Audrey," Genevieve said, turning her back. "Cheap candles and a cold dinner won't keep my son in your bed."

Genevieve and the maid walked back to the elevator. The doors closed.

Audrey stood frozen. Her legs felt like lead. The sedative was already seeping into her bloodstream, making the edges of her vision blur.

She dragged her feet toward the foyer. The massive floor-to-ceiling windows displayed the glittering, freezing skyline of New York City. She had never felt so entirely alone.

The electronic lock on the front door beeped.

The heavy oak door swung open. A rush of cold night air hit Audrey's face.

Kingston stepped inside. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and radiated an exhausting amount of power. He didn't even look at her. He stripped off his suit jacket and tossed it carelessly onto the leather sofa.

Audrey forced the corners of her mouth up. She walked over to take his leather briefcase.

"Happy anniversary, Kingston," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kingston paused. His dark eyes flicked to her face for a fraction of a second.

"Mm," he grunted.

He walked right past her, heading straight for the crystal decanters on the wet bar. He immediately pulled a sanitizing wipe from a silver dispenser on the counter, aggressively scrubbing his hands to rid them of the city's grime before even touching the crystal.

Audrey turned and followed him. As she stepped up behind his broad back, a scent hit her face.

It wasn't the smell of the city. It wasn't his usual crisp cologne.

It was a heavy, intoxicating blend of crushed roses and warm sandalwood.

The scent was a physical blow to her chest. Her breath hitched. She knew that smell. Everyone in their elite circle knew that custom fragrance. It belonged to Celestine Perry. Kingston's first love. His untouchable white moonlight.

The sedative made the room spin, but the betrayal sliced right through the chemical haze.

"Where were you tonight?" Audrey asked.

Kingston's hand froze on the neck of the whiskey decanter. His knuckles turned white. He slowly turned around, his thick brows pulling together in deep annoyance.

"I had meetings at the company," he said flatly.

Audrey's eyes dropped to his collar. Right on the edge of the crisp white fabric was a faint, undeniable smudge of crimson lipstick.

Her eyes burned. A tear broke free and tracked down her cheek.

"You're lying," her voice shook, raw and broken.

Kingston's face turned to stone. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked in his cheek. He despised being questioned. He despised weakness.

He slammed the decanter down on the marble counter.

He closed the distance between them in two long strides. His massive frame backed Audrey up until her spine hit the hard edge of the kitchen island.

He reached out, his face twisting in momentary distaste before he pinched her chin between his thumb and index finger. His grip was a vice, forcing her to look up into his pitch-black eyes.

"Play your role, Mrs. Savage," Kingston warned, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Do not ask for things that do not belong to you."

He lowered his head. He aimed for her lips, offering a kiss that felt more like a punishment than affection.

As his face neared hers, the overwhelming stench of Celestine's rose and sandalwood perfume invaded Audrey's lungs.

Her stomach violently heaved. Bile rose in her throat.

Audrey snapped her head to the side. She brought both hands up and shoved hard against his solid chest.

Kingston stumbled back a half-step.

Shock rippled across his face, quickly replaced by a dark, terrifying fury. In two years of marriage, his quiet, pathetic wife had never once denied him.

He let out a cruel, humorless laugh. He reached up and adjusted his cuffs, his eyes stripping away any remaining shred of her dignity.

"You're playing hard to get?" Kingston sneered, looking at her like she was a stranger on the street. "It's a pathetic look on you, Audrey."

He turned on his heel. He walked straight down the hall to the guest bedroom.

The door slammed shut. The sound echoed through the empty penthouse.

Audrey's knees gave out. She collapsed onto the cold marble floor, her hands covering her face as the illusion of her marriage shattered into a million jagged pieces.

The morning sun sliced through the bathroom blinds, stabbing Audrey directly in the eyes.

She was hunched over the porcelain sink, her knuckles white as she gripped the edges. Her stomach violently contracted. She dry-heaved, coughing until her throat felt raw. The chemical hangover from Genevieve's sedatives pounded against her skull like a hammer.

She opened the bottom drawer of the vanity. Her fingers shook as she pulled out a plastic pregnancy test.

She followed the instructions, her breathing shallow and ragged. When she was done, she flipped the plastic stick face-down on the marble counter.

Three minutes.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her skin was ashen. Dark circles bruised the skin under her eyes. The memory of Kingston's broad back walking away from her last night played on a loop in her brain. She didn't know if she even wanted this marriage anymore. She didn't know if she could survive it.

The timer on her phone buzzed.

Audrey squeezed her eyes shut. She took a deep, shuddering breath, reached out, and flipped the test over.

Two solid red lines.

Pregnant.

A sharp gasp tore from her lips. The shock hit her first, followed instantly by a fierce, protective warmth blooming in her chest. She pressed a trembling hand flat against her lower stomach.

A baby. Kingston's baby.

Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the anchor they needed. A child could thaw the ice between them. It had to.

She moved quickly. She washed her face and pulled on a tailored beige trench coat, tying the belt tight to hide the slight tremor in her hands. She carefully slipped the pregnancy test into the hidden zipper pocket of her Birkin bag.

She left the penthouse and took the elevator down to the underground garage.

The driver was waiting by the black Maybach.

"Savage Tower," Audrey said as she slid into the backseat.

The streets of New York blurred past the tinted windows. Audrey clutched the leather straps of her bag. She rehearsed the words in her head a hundred times. Kingston, we're going to have a baby.

The Maybach pulled up to the curb on Wall Street.

Audrey pushed the door open before the driver could. She walked into the towering glass lobby of the Savage Corporation. Her heels clicked rapidly against the floor.

The receptionist at the front desk looked up. The woman's eyes widened, darting nervously toward the private elevators.

"Good morning, Mrs. Savage," the receptionist said, her voice tight. She made a slight, aborted movement, as if she wanted to stop Audrey but didn't have the authority.

Audrey ignored the strange look. She pressed her thumb to the biometric scanner on the private elevator. The doors slid open.

She watched the floor numbers climb. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

The doors parted on the top floor.

Audrey stepped out and headed straight for the double mahogany doors of the CEO's office.

Max Keller, Kingston's executive assistant, practically jumped out of his chair. He lunged into the hallway, blocking her path.

"Mrs. Savage!" Max stammered, sweat beading on his forehead. "You can't go in there. Mr. Savage is in a very important meeting."

Audrey stopped. She looked at Max's shifting eyes. Her stomach dropped. The sickening scent of rose and sandalwood from last night flooded her memory.

"Who is in there, Max?" her voice was dead calm, but her blood was turning to ice.

"It's... it's a private client," Max lied, shifting his weight to physically block the door handles.

Audrey didn't hesitate. Adrenaline surged through her veins. She shoved Max hard in the chest. He stumbled back, caught off guard by her sudden strength.

She grabbed the heavy brass handle and shoved the door open.

The sight inside hit Audrey with the force of a physical blow. All the air vanished from her lungs.

Celestine Perry was sitting in Kingston's massive leather executive chair.

She was wearing a custom silk maternity dress. Her stomach was hugely, undeniably pregnant. At least seven months along.

Celestine spun the chair around. When she saw Audrey frozen in the doorway, a slow, toxic smirk spread across her perfectly painted lips.

Audrey's entire body went numb. The blood roared in her ears. The pregnancy test in her bag suddenly felt like a burning coal against her side.

Celestine placed a manicured hand on her swollen belly. She stood up slowly, her movements exaggerated and proud.

"Well," Celestine's voice was sickeningly sweet. "Look who finally decided to visit the office."

"Why are you here?" Audrey choked out, her voice cracking. Her eyes were glued to the massive bump. "Whose baby is that?"

Celestine let out a tinkling laugh. She walked around the desk, her heels sinking into the plush carpet.

"Whose do you think, Audrey?" Celestine stopped inches away. The stench of roses and sandalwood suffocated Audrey. "This is the true Savage heir. Kingston sings to him every night."

Audrey's vision went red. The absolute cruelty of it broke something inside her brain. She raised her right hand, her palm flying toward Celestine's smug face.

Celestine didn't flinch. Instead, she aggressively thrust her pregnant belly forward, right into the path of Audrey's swing.

Audrey's muscles locked. She stopped her hand an inch from Celestine's cheek. She couldn't do it. She couldn't strike a pregnant woman. The moral restraint made her physically sick with frustration.

Celestine saw the hesitation and smiled. She leaned in, her lips brushing Audrey's ear.

"You're just a cheap, defective placeholder," Celestine whispered. "The real owner is back. It's time for you to roll over and die."

Audrey's fingernails dug so hard into her palms that the skin broke. Hot blood seeped into the creases of her hands. She stared at Celestine, a raw, unadulterated hatred igniting in her chest.

The door to the private suite attached to the office clicked open.

"What the hell is going on out here?"

Kingston stepped into the office. He was wearing nothing but a white hotel robe, a towel rubbing roughly at his wet hair.

Water dripped from Kingston's dark hair, sliding down his sharp jawline. He froze, his dark eyes snapping from Audrey to Celestine.

The second Celestine saw him, her smug expression vanished. She let out a pathetic, high-pitched gasp. She clutched her swollen belly and stumbled backward, pretending to lose her balance from Audrey's glare.

"Kingston!" Celestine cried out, her knees buckling.

Kingston's face went pale. He dropped the towel. He crossed the room in a blur of motion, his long arms shooting out to catch Celestine before she hit the floor. He pulled her tightly against his chest, his hands hovering protectively over her stomach.

Audrey watched her husband hold another woman. It felt like someone had reached into her chest and crushed her heart with bare hands. The physical pain was blinding.

Kingston snapped his head up. His eyes locked onto Audrey, blazing with a terrifying rage.

"Are you out of your mind?" Kingston roared, his voice shaking the glass windows. "Coming to my office to attack a pregnant woman?"

Audrey let out a broken, hysterical laugh. She pointed a trembling finger at Celestine's belly, tears finally spilling over her lashes.

"Is this the meeting you had last night?" Audrey screamed, her throat tearing with the force of it. "Is this why you smell like her?"

Kingston didn't even bother to look at his robe. He didn't offer a single word of explanation.

"Watch your mouth," Kingston warned, his tone lethal. "Celestine cannot handle this kind of stress right now."

Celestine buried her face in Kingston's chest. But she turned her head just enough so only Audrey could see her face.

Celestine smiled. It was the smile of a venomous snake. She mouthed a sentence, forming the words perfectly with her lips.

Your crippled mother's car crash wasn't an accident.

The words hit Audrey like a freight train.

Her adoptive mother. The car crash that left her in a vegetative state. It was the deepest, most agonizing wound of Audrey's life.

All reason evaporated. A primal, violent scream ripped from Audrey's throat. She lunged forward, her hands reaching for Celestine's throat.

She didn't even make it halfway.

Kingston stepped in front of Celestine. He raised his arm and shoved Audrey backward with brutal force.

He didn't hold back. Audrey flew backward like a broken doll. Her spine slammed violently against the sharp edge of the marble coffee table.

A sickening crack echoed in her ears. Blinding agony shot through her lower back and ripped across her abdomen.

Audrey collapsed onto the carpet. She curled into a tight ball, clutching her stomach as the pain threatened to make her pass out.

"My baby!" Audrey sobbed, panic clawing at her throat. She looked up at Kingston through her tears. "Kingston, please! I'm pregnant too!"

Dead silence fell over the office.

Celestine's eyes darted nervously, a flash of genuine panic crossing her face before she quickly masked it.

Kingston stood over Audrey. He didn't drop to his knees. He didn't reach out to help her.

He looked down at her with a level of disgust so profound it made Audrey's blood run cold. He looked at her like she was a rotting animal on the side of the road.

He let out a dark, hollow laugh. He took a slow step forward, the sole of his leather shoe sinking heavily into the carpet next to her face.

Kingston crouched down. He reached out and pinched her jaw, his fingers digging painfully into her bone.

"Pregnant?" Kingston said, his voice a deadly, quiet hiss. "Do you think I am a fucking idiot, Audrey?"

Audrey shook her head, her tears dripping onto his hand. "No, Kingston, I swear-"

"I had a vasectomy five years ago," Kingston stated, the words slicing through the air like a guillotine. "Long before you ever managed to trap me into this marriage."

Audrey's breath stopped. Her eyes widened in absolute horror.

A vasectomy.

The lie was so massive, so completely reality-shattering, her brain couldn't process it. She knew she hadn't touched another man. But Kingston believed it as absolute truth.

"No," Audrey gasped, struggling to breathe. "No, that's impossible, Kingston, I-"

Kingston's eyes were pitch black with violent fury. In his mind, she was a lying, cheating whore trying to force another man's bastard onto the Savage name.

He stood up abruptly. He pulled a white silk handkerchief from the pocket of his discarded suit jacket on the chair. He wiped the fingers that had just touched her face, scrubbing the skin as if she had infected him.

He threw the crumpled handkerchief down. It landed directly on Audrey's cheek.

"How could you do this to him, Audrey?" Celestine gasped from the background, playing the horrified victim perfectly.

Audrey couldn't speak. The physical pain in her stomach was nothing compared to the death of her soul in that exact moment. She stared at the carpet, her love for this man turning to ash in her chest.

Kingston slammed his fist onto the intercom button on his desk.

"Security. Top floor. Now," he barked.

Seconds later, the heavy doors burst open. Four massive men in black suits flooded the room.

"Take her to the Hamptons estate," Kingston ordered, his voice devoid of any human emotion. "Lock her in the third-floor guest room. If a single fly gets in or out without my permission, you are all fired."

Two guards grabbed Audrey by her arms. They hauled her roughly off the floor.

Audrey didn't fight them. Her body hung limp in their grip. She turned her head and looked at Kingston one last time. She memorized the coldness in his eyes. She memorized Celestine's victorious smirk.

They dragged her out of the office. Max stood in the hallway, looking away, unable to meet her dead eyes.

As the elevator doors closed, cutting off the sight of her husband, Audrey instinctively curled her hands over her flat stomach. The tears stopped falling. A cold, terrifying resolve locked into place in her mind.

She was going to run.