The Prenup: My Billion Dollar Weapon

My husband, the man I saved from a suicide attempt and built an empire for, was forcing me to kneel on frozen peas. My crime? A splash of cream in my coffee.

This was all for his new "soulmate," a vegan influencer named Kassie, who had moved into our home and declared war on all animal products.

The cruelty escalated. He kidnapped my ailing father, torturing him over his hobby of building birdhouses, then used my father' s life to blackmail me into silence.

Then, at a gala, he left me for dead in the path of a raging bear to save Kassie.

As he turned his back, leaving me to be mauled, I realized the man I loved was gone, replaced by a monster.

But I survived, saved by a mysterious stranger. And as I healed, I remembered the one weapon he'd forgotten: the ironclad prenup that gave me a controlling interest in his billion-dollar company. He thought he had broken me, but he had just given me the means to burn his empire to the ground.

Chapter 1

Adella Palmer POV:

My husband, the man I saved from a suicide attempt and built an empire for, was forcing me to kneel on a bag of frozen peas because I put a splash of cream in my coffee.

"It' s dairy, Adella," Fitzgerald said, his voice a low, disappointed hum. He stood over me, his six-foot-four frame casting a long shadow in the pristine, white-on-white kitchen of our Silicon Valley mansion. He looked like a god sculpted from marble and money, but his eyes held the cold emptiness of a vacant tomb.

This wasn' t him. Not the real him.

The real Fitzgerald Jones was the boy I' d found ten years ago, bleeding and broken in the mangled wreck of his car on a winding Appalachian mountain road. He' d had nothing but a half-baked tech idea and a death wish. My father, Alph, and I had pulled him from the wreckage. We' d nursed him back to health in our tiny, cluttered house that always smelled of sawdust and my mother' s long-gone rose perfume.

This new Fitzgerald, this cold stranger, was a creation. His creator was a woman named Kassie Robertson.

Kassie was an LA-based social media influencer, a self-proclaimed "vegan goddess" and animal rights warrior with millions of followers who hung on her every sanctimonious word. Fitzgerald had met her at a tech conference three months ago and had become utterly infatuated. He called her his "soulmate," his "ethical awakening."

I called her the parasite that was devouring my husband' s soul.

Kassie had moved into our guest wing two months ago, and with her came a new set of rules. No leather. No wool. And absolutely, positively, no animal products in the house. Our home, once filled with the smells of roasts and my father' s favorite buttery biscuits, now smelled permanently of kale and self-righteousness.

My stomach, already ravaged by years of stress