The Cruel Billionaire's Unwanted Perfect Wife

Ellery pushed the heavy walnut door open. The metallic click of the lock echoed in the massive, empty foyer of the Upper East Side penthouse.

She pulled her key from the door. Her eyes immediately dropped to the floor. A pair of red-soled stilettos lay discarded on the expensive Persian rug. They were a size too small to be hers.

A woman's high-pitched, breathy laugh drifted from the living room. The sound hit Ellery's eardrums like a physical blow. Her stomach muscles tightened.

She kicked off her work pumps, slid her feet into her slippers, and walked toward the sound. Her face remained completely blank.

As she rounded the corner, the heavy, suffocating scent of Chanel No. 5 hit her nose. It clashed violently with the subtle cedarwood diffuser she kept in the apartment. Her throat closed up.

Crystal stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows. She wore a sheer silk nightgown that left nothing to the imagination. A crystal champagne flute dangled from her manicured fingers.

Crystal turned around. Her eyes raked over Ellery's conservative gray business suit. A smirk twisted her red lips.

She swirled the champagne in her glass. "You're home early," Crystal said. Her voice dripped with mockery.

Ellery did not blink. She did not speak. She looked right through the woman and kept walking toward the master hallway.

Crystal's smirk vanished. Her face flushed red. She took a quick step sideways, blocking the entrance to the hallway.

Ellery stopped. She looked at Crystal's collarbone, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Move," Ellery said. Her voice was flat, cold, and completely empty.

The master bedroom door clicked open.

Holland stepped out into the hallway. He wore a dark gray bathrobe loosely tied at his waist. He was rubbing a white towel through his damp, dark hair.

He stopped. His dark eyes darted between the two women. A slow, cruel smile spread across his face.

Crystal immediately softened her posture. She practically threw herself at Holland, pressing her bare shoulder against his arm.

"Holland," Crystal whined, dragging out his name.

Holland did not push her away. Instead, his eyes locked onto Ellery. He watched her face, waiting for a reaction. He was searching for a crack in her armor.

Ellery's fingernails dug into the palms of her hands. The sharp pain grounded her. She turned on her heel, ready to walk back out the front door. The air in the apartment was too thin to breathe.

"Get out," Holland said. His voice was a low, hard rumble.

Crystal's triumphant smile froze. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with confusion. "What?"

Holland dropped the towel. His jaw muscle feathered. "I said, get out. Now."

Crystal bit her bottom lip. Her hands shook as she grabbed her coat from the back of the sofa. She didn't bother putting it on. She snatched her red-soled shoes from the rug and ran for the door.

The heavy front door slammed shut. The loud bang echoed through the penthouse.

The temperature in the