His Betrayal, Her Billion-Dollar Revenge

For three years, I played the part of a simple housewife for my husband, Cedric. I buried my true self-Eleanor Curry, heiress to a massive security firm-to be the quiet wife he claimed to love.

Then a chemical plant exploded. In the chaos, Cedric shielded his teammate, Cassidy, and left me behind in a collapsing building.

"Forget her," I heard him tell his men. "She' s useless. A dead weight."

I survived, only for him to force me, while I was injured and feverish, to donate blood to Cassidy for her "severe" injuries.

But then I overheard them laughing in the next room. Her injuries were a lie. It was all a "little lesson," he said, to teach me my place.

As my own wound reopened and bled through my gown, I reached for the hidden device in my bag. "Falcon reporting."

A gravelly voice answered instantly. "Welcome home, little bird. We've been waiting."

Chapter 1

I played the part for three years. Three long years of pretending to be someone I wasn't, all for a man who didn't deserve an ounce of my truth.

Eleanor Curry, the Yale-educated strategist, the sole heiress to a colossal private security firm, became Ella Hopkins. The quiet wife who loved to bake. The one who always had a warm meal ready.

Cedric, my husband, once said he loved my "simplicity." He called it his escape from his high-stakes world. Now, that simplicity was a burden. A weakness he openly resented.

His eyes, once full of a protective warmth for me, followed Cassidy Caldwell across the room. Her independence, her fierce spirit-these were the things he praised. These were the things he now demanded from me, the qualities I'd buried for him.

I saw them. Framed in the doorway of our office. His hand rested on her arm, a laugh escaping her lips. It was too intimate for teammates.

"Professional camaraderie," he called it later that night. His voice was flat. My heart felt the same.

It happened again. And again. Each time, a new hairline fracture in the foundation I' d built on lies.

The anniversary of my parents' death dawned grey and heavy. A day that shattered me anew each year.

I spent the morning at their graveside alone. The cold marble reflected my solitude.

Later, the Curry Group honored them in a private ceremony. Garth, my father's most trusted lieutenant, stood beside me. The loyalty of my 'Uncles' was a stark contrast to the emptiness in my own home.

A heavy, embossed file was placed in my hands. The group's future, my birthright, laid bare. It was time.

Cedric wasn't there. He was tending to Cassidy' s "minor injury"-a scraped knee, I heard. My grief felt trivial next to her needs.

When he finally came home, hours later, I met him at the door. "Where were you?" My voice was thin. Fragile.

He sighed, a heavy, impatient sound. "Eleanor, can't you understand? This is my job. You're being unreasonable."

Unreasonable? My