THE BILLIONAIRE'S REVENGE: RUTHLESS REDEMPTION

ARI'S POINT OF VIEW

The door slammed open so hard the walls trembled, and I nearly dropped the glass in my hand. My heart leapt, then softened when I saw Derek in a tuxedo. For a fleeting second, relief warmed me—maybe, just maybe, he remembered. Our anniversary. He’d been late every year, but he always came home eventually.

I smoothed my dress and took a step toward him, a smile tugging at my lips. See? He came.

“Hey, baby, you’re late for our anniversary again. Every ye—”

The words died in my throat as he cut me off—not with an apology, not with flowers, not even with a kiss. But with a sharp flick of his hand. A stack of papers landed on the coffee table with a loud smack, their edges fanning out like a cruel slap to my face.

“That there,” Derek said, his voice cool and final, “means your time is up in this house.”

I blinked, the words stinging harder than the papers ever could. “What do you mean?”

That’s when I saw her. A woman, standing smugly behind him. Black dress, short enough to be indecent, clinging to curves she clearly knew how to use. Her lips curled into a scoff, her eyes glinting with victory—as if she had been waiting for this moment, savoring it.

My stomach dropped. My breath hitched. And for the first time this evening, I realized the tux wasn’t for me.

Derek’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking over me like I was nothing but a stranger in his house.

“I’ve already found the true love of my life,” he said, voice sharp enough to slice me open. “Her name is Tasha Monroe. And she’s going to be my wife—and the mother of your kids—very soon.”

My breath caught. My knees nearly gave way, but I held myself upright, nails digging into my palm. Mother of my kids? The audacity burned through me like fire.

Tasha—or whatever her name was—stepped forward then, all painted lips and smugness. She smiled like the devil had kissed her and whispered his secrets in her ear.

I opened my mouth, the words trembling on my tongue, but before I could speak, the soft thud of footsteps on the stairs made my heart skip.

“Dad?”

Maxine. My beautiful girl. My last hope. She bounded down the stairs, her phone in one hand, glossy hair tumbling over her shoulders. She barely looked at me before her eyes lit up at Derek. “Oh, Dad, you’re back!”

Relief swelled in my chest. Maybe—just maybe—she’d see this madness for what it was. Maybe she’d remind her father of the family he was breaking apart.

But instead, Maxine’s gaze flicked over me, her brows knitting in confusion.

“Why’s Mom’s face like that?”

The crack inside me deepened. She didn’t see. She didn’t care.

Derek turned to answer, but another voice cut through.

“Hey, Dad.”

Marcus. Maxine’s twin. He appeared at the bottom of the stairs, hair messy from gaming, hands shoved