The Jilted Wife's Spectacular Billionaire Comeback

"Thank you very much for your patronage. Please have a safe journey."

Estella laughed until her cheek muscles ached.

The heavy oak door on the top floor of the apartment slammed shut, finally shutting out the deafening jazz music and the suffocating smell of expensive cigars. She let out a long sigh, her shoulders relaxing completely. Ten years.

At every anniversary party, she was so busy that she was constantly on the go, yet no one helped her.

She turned around, her high heels clicking on the marble floor. Conrad stood with his back to her at the bar. He began to loosen his tie, his movements stiff and impatient. There was no relaxation in his posture, no warmth from the evening's success. Only a cold impatience clung to him like a second skin.

Jana gracefully walked out of the restaurant, carrying two half-empty champagne glasses.

Her sister smiled, revealing a bright white tooth. "Another perfect party, sister. Conrad is so lucky to have a wife like you."

Estella nodded, a bitter feeling welling up inside her. She didn't think this was a good thing; her husband didn't care how much she had sacrificed. Yana's gaze wasn't on her, but lingered on Conrad's back, her eyes drifting to the outline of his shirt clinging to his shoulders. It was a possessive gaze tinged with desire.

"I'm exhausted," Conrad said without turning around. He poured himself a glass of Scotch whisky, the ice clinking against the glass. "I'm going to take a shower."

"I can help you tidy up," Yana said, moving closer to Estella. A strong scent of perfume filled the air between them-Estella's signature fragrance, the one Conrad had given her for Christmas last year.

"No, let's go home," Estella said, her voice much calmer than she felt. "You've done enough."

Jana grinned. Her lips twitched slightly, but she did smile. "Since you insist. Goodnight, Conrad."

Conrad waved lazily, without turning his head. Yana grabbed her coat, leaving Estella alone in the empty, silent living room. The silence was suffocating. She stared at the overflowing ashtray and the steam rising from the antique mahogany table. She had given this man ten years of her life, and he hadn't even said a simple "Happy Anniversary."

She needs to solve this problem. She has been working on it.

Estella went into the kitchen, her sanctuary. She opened the freezer and took out ginger and organic bone broth. Conrad always got drunk at times like this, and if she didn't make him this special soup, he would wake up with a splitting headache. It had become a habit. Her fingers moved mechanically, peeling, slicing, and simmering. The aroma of ginger filled the air, bringing a comforting warmth that always made her feel useful.

She poured the clear, golden liquid into a porcelain bowl and carefully placed it on a silver plate. She climbed the steps, her heart pounding slightly. Perhaps tonight, after they finished their soup, they could have a proper talk. Perhaps he would understand how much she cared for him.

The master bedroom door was slightly ajar. A ray of warm sunlight streamed into the hallway. Estella, carrying a tray in one hand, opened the door with a smile.

Conrad, I made your favorite-

Her throat tightened, and she couldn't speak.

The tray tilted, the bowl slipped, and scalding soup spilled over the rim, burning her wrist, but she felt nothing. Below her neck, everything was blank.

Conrad was not alone. He hadn't gone to take a shower. He stood by the dressing table, a white towel casually wrapped around his waist. Next to him was Yana, her back hunched against his chest.

She didn't leave; instead, she secretly slipped back when no one could see her!

Jana's skirt was unzipped, the hem draped over her shoulders. Conrad's lips pressed against Jana's neck, his arms tightly around her waist, a possessiveness he had never shown to Estella.

"When are you going to tell her?" Yana groaned, leaning her head back on his shoulder. Her eyes were open, staring at the doorway, at Estella. There was no fear in her eyes, only the joy of victory.

Conrad jerked his head up. The sound of the tray hitting the floor rang out like a gunshot. Porcelain shattered, and scalding soup and shards splashed onto the hardwood floor.

The noise shattered the tranquility. Conrad took a step back, away from Yana, but he made no attempt to hide himself. He offered no apology. He simply stared at Estella, his eyes empty and blank, as if she were a stranger who had wandered into the room.

"What are you doing?" Estella's voice was hoarse and shrill, sounding more like a dying animal than her own.

"I think you know exactly what I'm doing," Conrad said. His voice was calm, almost too calm. He reached for a bathrobe, casually draped it over himself, and said indifferently, "That saves me the trouble of explaining."

Jana straightened her skirt and slowly, steadily zipped up the zipper. She didn't hide. She walked to the edge of the bed and sat down, looking at her defiantly. "Don't be so surprised, Estella. You knew this day would come."

Estella's hands trembled. "Today is our wedding anniversary." She stared at Conrad, waiting for his answer, waiting for him to say it was just a joke.

"Yes," Conrad said, walking toward her. He stopped a few inches away, looking down at her with a disgust that made her feel nauseous. "Ten years, Estella. A full ten years of endurance, deceiving myself."

These words struck her like a heavy blow, leaving her breathless. "What do you mean?"

"I married you only because Jana is going to Oxford," Conrad said, his tone detached and professional, as if discussing a business merger. "The Lothar family needs to forge a strong alliance with the Neves family. You are just a substitute. I have always loved her. As her older sister, you should take over Jana's position until she is ready."

Estella's knees buckled, and she quickly grabbed the doorframe to avoid falling. She looked at Yana, who was casually fiddling with her nails. "You two... have you always been like this?"

"Every single second," Yana said, her smile widening. "Honestly, sister, you should be ashamed. Do you really think your amateur cooking and party planning skills can keep a man like him? You're so boring, Estella. You're nothing more than a high-class maid."

Conrad reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He tapped a few times on the screen, then turned it towards her. It was a document. A legal document. "I don't want to continue this boring life. The divorce papers will be filed tomorrow. My lawyer will contact you tomorrow morning."

Estella stared at the screen. The words on the screen were blurry, then gradually became clear. The marriage was over. It was all over. Her whole life, her entire identity, had been erased with a single touch on the screen.

"Get out of my room," Conrad said coldly. "You can sleep in the guest room tonight. I expect you to leave before the weekend."

He turned away, walked to the bedside, and sat down beside Yana. Yana leaned against him, placing her hands on his thighs. They looked at Estella as if she were a stain they couldn't wait to wipe away.

Estella turned and walked out. She didn't remember how she got upstairs to the guest room, or how she closed the door. She just stood in the dark, empty room, staring at the walls, the images of her husband and sister deeply imprinted in her mind.

Estella hugged herself helplessly; the penthouse was suffocatingly silent. At the end of the corridor, faint sounds of laughter and playful banter drifted out. They were interacting intimately. As if nothing had happened. As if she didn't exist at all.

She looked down at her wrist. A shocking red mark was beginning to blister-the trace of the betrayal that night. Strangely, she felt nothing.

She needed to hear a voice. A real voice. Someone had told her that it was all just a nightmare.

She pulled her phone from her handbag, her fingers trembling slightly. She dialed the number she had known since childhood. The phone rang and rang.

Finally, a soft voice came. "Estella? Do you know what time it is?"

Brenda Low's voice was heavy with sleepiness, yet tinged with a sharp edge. A surge of anger welled up inside Estella, and her stomach clenched.

"Mom," Estella gasped. Tears she had been holding back finally welled up and she choked out, "Mom, I need you. Conrad...he...he's with Jana."

A long silence followed on the other end of the phone. There was no gasp of shock, as Estella had anticipated, nor any denial in terror. Only a heavy, suffocating silence hung over the line.

"Mom? Can you hear me? He's kissing her. In our bedroom. On our wedding anniversary."

"I heard you," Brenda said. Her voice changed, becoming clear and calm, but devoid of any sympathy.

"Estella, you should be more mature and accept it calmly."

Estella froze, tears suddenly choking in her throat. "What?"

"It's very unseemly for you to throw a tantrum," Brenda sighed, her voice hoarse from the other end of the phone. "I've known about Conrad and Jana for a long time."

Estella felt as if the floor beneath her feet had collapsed. She sat heavily on the edge of the bed, the mattress creaking in the silent room. "You...you always knew?"

"Of course I know," Brenda interrupted impatiently. "Jana and Conrad are destined to be together. You've always been just a stepping stone, a substitute until Jana finishes her studies and achieves success."

"A substitute," Estella repeated, the word tasting like ashes in her mouth. "You forced me to marry him. You made me waste ten years-"

"You didn't waste a single moment," Brenda interrupted, her tone sharp. "You fulfilled your responsibilities to this family. The Lois family needed a marriage alliance with the Nevis family, and you facilitated it. You should be proud of that."

"Pride?" Estella's voice rose eight octaves, shock transforming into a burning, nauseating rage within her. "He slept with my sister, and you expect me to be proud?"

"I advise you to be realistic, Estella," Brenda said coldly. "What else do you expect, Estella? You have no sense of humor. You have neither Yana's drive nor her beauty. All you do is clean the house and cook. That's not a wife, that's a servant."

Estella jolted, as if she had been slapped. She could almost feel the sting on her cheek. "How could you do this to me?"

"Someone has to say it," Brenda retorted. "Doug's business needs Conrad's financial support. Jana needs this marriage to solidify her social standing. Estella, it's all for the family. Don't be so selfish."

"Selfish?" Estella murmured. She thought of all the holidays she had missed, all the meals she had cooked, and all the money she had given Doug without hesitation. She had poured her heart and soul into this family, and yet they called her selfish.

"Sign the documents quietly," Brenda ordered. "Don't think about anything else. Take whatever he gives you, and then leave gracefully."

"Dignity?" Estella let out a hollow, fragile laugh. "Do you want me to leave with nothing ten years from now?"

"You're worthless, Estella," Brenda said dismissively. "You've never worked a single day in your life. You should be grateful for anything he can give you. Alright, I have to hang up. Stop calling and crying, it's undignified."

The call has ended.

Estella stared at the black screen of her phone. The reflection in her eyes was of a stranger. Pale-faced. Sunken eyes. A fool.

She called her mother for help, but her mother's words felt like a slap in the face.

She stood up and walked to the mirror in front of the dressing table. The woman in the mirror looked haggard, but Estella felt quite different. She felt much clearer-headed.

She will no longer cry, no longer beg, and will not return empty-handed.

"Accept it all, and then leave," she whispered to the empty room.

Estella walked into Conrad's family office at nine o'clock sharp the next morning. She had stayed up all night; the dark circles under her eyes were concealed with concealer, and her hair was tied up in a tight, serious bun. She wore a simple black dress-no jewelry, no perfume.

Conrad sat behind his enormous mahogany desk, looking as if he had just showered, his clothes impeccably dressed. Beside him sat a man in a gray suit, expressionless and businesslike. A lawyer.

"Estella," Conrad said, leaning back in his chair. He interlaced his fingers, fingertips touching, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "You look terrible. Didn't sleep well?"

She ignored his sarcasm. She walked to two leather chairs facing the desk and sat down, crossing her legs. "Let's finish this quickly."

The lawyer cleared his throat and pushed a thick manila folder across the desk. "Mrs. Neves, my client wishes to expedite the process and minimize friction. This is the proposed divorce agreement."

Estella opened the folder. The papers were pristine, filled with legal jargon, but the numbers were clearly visible. Zero. She would have nothing.

"According to the prenuptial agreement you signed," the lawyer continued, "you are not entitled to any assets that Mr. Neves accumulated during the marriage because you have not made any financial contributions to the family."

Estella turned a page. Her gaze swept over the terms. No alimony. No property. No shares.

"In addition," the lawyer said, "Mr. Neves is willing to provide you with three months of temporary assistance as a gesture of goodwill, provided that you move out of the apartment within forty-eight hours."

Conrad chuckled, his voice low and sarcastic. "To be honest, Estella, you haven't worked in ten years. What are you planning to do? Find a secretarial job? You don't even know how to use Excel."

The lawyer shifted uncomfortably. "Considering the current situation, these terms are already quite generous."

Estella looked up from her documents. She looked at Conrad, really looked at him. The man for whom she had cooked, dressed him every morning, and managed his obsessive-compulsive disorder for ten years. He was a stranger. A cruel, arrogant stranger.

"I won't sign this," she said calmly.

Conrad's smile vanished. "What did you say?"

"I won't sign this," she repeated, closing the folder. "I don't want your three months of charity. I won't leave with nothing."

"You had no choice," Conrad's voice hardened. "The prenuptial agreement was final. You signed it."

"I know what I signed," Estella said. Her thoughts drifted back to about a year ago when she was organizing her family's digital photo album. She stumbled upon a picture that sent a shiver down her spine. She reached into her small handbag and pulled out her phone. She tapped the screen a few times, then placed it screen-up on the table.

Conrad leaned down to look. His face instantly turned pale.

It was a photograph. A few years ago, at a party at Lowe's Estate. Jana was there too; she had just turned eighteen and was wearing a dress that was far too mature for her. Conrad was in the background, his hand on her lower back-a gesture far from that of a brother towards his sister.

"Where did you get this?" Conrad asked hoarsely.

"It's in the cloud," Estella said. "When I was organizing the family photo album last year, I thought it was just a weird angle. Now I understand."

The lawyer's face turned pale. "Mr. Neves, that's-"

"Nothing," Conrad interrupted sharply, but his jaw was clenched and his muscles bulged.

"If this photo leaks out," Estella said calmly and steadily, "along with the timeline of your relationship with my sister...then the board of directors of the Neves Group probably won't approve of the CEO having a relationship with a minor, even if it's just a technical minor. The media will report it extensively."

"Are you blackmailing me?" Conrad roared, slamming his fist on the table. "You crazy woman!"

"I'm negotiating," Estella corrected, without backing down. "You've taken up ten years of my life. You've humiliated me. You've made me a laughingstock. I want a return."

Conrad glared at her, his chest heaving. He looked at his lawyer, who shook his head slightly, almost imperceptibly. The lawyer knew. Such a scandal could cause a stock market crash.

"What do you want?" Conrad asked through gritted teeth.

"The house," Estella said.

Conrad blinked. "What?"

"Willow Creek Estate," Estella said. The dilapidated suburban estate Conrad had bought as a "property in need of repair," only to abandon it after a weekend. "Transfer the title deed to me. Include a confidentiality clause in the agreement. I'll keep quiet, and you can keep your CEO position."

Conrad stared at her, then burst into a shrill laugh. "That piece of junk? It's a bottomless pit. The roof's already collapsed. You want that?"

"Yes," Estella said.

"Fine," Conrad said, grabbing a pen. He scribbled something in the blank space of the agreement, then scribbled his name across it forcefully. "Take it. It's worse than the garbage dump you'll be living in later. Now, get out of my sight."

Estella stood up. She picked up a pen, signed her name below his signature, and then picked up the folder. She didn't look at him as she walked out of the office. She didn't look back as she walked out of the penthouse.

She had a house. It was a dilapidated, useless house, but it was hers.