The Ex-Wife's Unforgiving Revenge

My fiancé, Grayson Malone, had me locked in a mental institution while I was pregnant. He stole our son, Adam, and let his mistress raise him as her own.

For six years, I survived in poverty, secretly raising our daughter, Ida-the one he never knew existed.

Our worlds finally collided at a school event. His mistress, Kiera, shoved Ida, whose head cracked against a metal chair. Her heart stopped.

In the ensuing panic, Grayson found a journal I "accidentally" dropped. It was his dead sister's diary, holding the truth that proved Kiera's lies had destroyed my entire family.

Now, consumed by guilt, he's begging for a second chance. He thinks he can buy my forgiveness. He has no idea I'm about to take everything from him, just like he did to me.

Chapter 1

Jillian Chapman POV:

My ex-husband, Grayson Malone, the man who had me locked away and stole my son, stood across the school gymnasium. He recognized my face but not the child clutching my hand. Our daughter. The one he never knew existed.

A shrill cry ripped through the noisy assembly. It was Adam, our son, his face contorted in a furious scowl. He was six, just like Ida. He shoved her. Hard.

Ida stumbled, her small body hitting the polished wooden floor with a thud. The thin dress she wore, patched from too many washes, offered no padding. A wave of gasps rippled through the parents gathered for the elementary school' s art fair.

"You're a cheat!" Adam yelled, pointing a finger at Ida. His voice was high-pitched, echoing his father' s booming authority, even at this age. "You copied my drawing!"

Ida, tears welling in her large, dark eyes-Grayson' s eyes-clutched a crayon drawing of a bluebird. It was identical to the one Adam held, only hers seemed to possess a deeper, richer hue.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a familiar rhythm of fear and fury. I rushed forward, my worn sneakers squeaking on the floor. I knelt beside Ida, pulling her close, checking for scrapes. Her breathing was shallow, a faint wheeze escaping her lips. The heart condition. Always the heart condition.

"Adam," a woman' s voice, sharp and saccharine, cut through the air. Kiera. Of course. She was always there, hovering like a shadow, reinforcing the lie. She smoothed Adam' s perfectly pressed uniform, sending a disdainful glance my way. "A Malone never stoops to such common antics."

Grayson, towering over everyone, finally moved. His eyes, the same piercing blue as Adam' s, locked onto mine. He looked older, sharper, more formidable. Six years. Six years since he' d ripped my world apart. He' d sculpted himself into the ruthless Wall Street magnate I always knew he could be, but the man standing before me was a stranger. A monstrous stranger.

I felt nothing but a cold, calculating emptiness. The pain was a dull ache now, buried deep beneath layers of survival. He was just another obstacle.

"Jillian," his voice was a