The Unwanted Wife's Secret Billionaire Identity

The Rolls-Royce Phantom stopped smoothly in front of the towering glass headquarters of MY Corporation. The doorman rushed to open the door.

Herminia stepped out, her presence radiating cold authority. Anne walked half a step behind her, carrying a thick leather folder.

Employees in the grand lobby stopped and stared. Whispers broke out as the striking, unfamiliar woman marched toward the elevators.

The head receptionist stepped forward to block them. "Excuse me, you need a badge—"

Anne didn't say a word. She simply held up a solid black, top-tier Board of Directors keycard. The receptionist stepped back, face pale.

They took the executive elevator straight to the top floor. Outside the double doors of the boardroom, a dozen nervous managers were pacing.

Herminia pushed the heavy wooden doors open and walked past the stunned executives. She sat directly in the center seat—the Chairman's chair.

An older, arrogant vice president slammed his hand on the table. "Who the hell are you? Get out of that chair!"

Herminia smiled. It didn't reach her eyes. She took the folder from Anne and tossed a certified document into the center of the table.

"I am the majority shareholder," she said, her voice echoing off the glass walls. "I am the founder, Anna. As of this second, I am taking over."

Dead silence fell over the room. The arrogant vice president looked at the signature on the document and started sweating.

Herminia didn't give them a second to breathe. She looked at Anne. "Read the list."

Within three minutes, she fired three top executives for corruption and faction-building. Security guards physically dragged them out of the room. The remaining executives sat frozen in terror.

Herminia leaned forward, eyes cold, and began outlining her brutal restructuring plan.

At that exact moment, a few blocks away in the Elliott Capital building, the tension in the CEO's office was thick enough to choke on.

Bradley sat behind his massive desk, eyes bloodshot. He'd spent the entire night dealing with Kristal's fake panic attacks.

Connor knocked timidly and entered, holding a red-stamped, highly classified report.

"Sir," Connor swallowed. "Madam is not on the streets. She went to MY Corporation."

Bradley frowned. "She got a job as a low-level clerk?"

Connor shook his head, hands trembling. "No, sir. She isn't working for them. We tracked her directly to the top-floor boardroom. There are internal rumors... she might be deeply connected to Anna, the mysterious founder of MY. Her exact identity is protected by top-tier encryption, but she took over the chairman's seat today."

Snap.

The expensive fountain pen in Bradley's hand broke in half. Black ink exploded across his fingers and dripped onto the Persian rug.

He shot up from his chair, snatching the report from Connor's hands. For three years, she had played the weak, uneducated housewife. She had played him for a fool.

Betrayal and rage choked him. He grabbed his phone and dialed her number again. Still disconnected.

Bradley ripped off his tie and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, staring down at the concrete jungle of Manhattan. She was slipping out of his control. Fine. If she wanted to play a business game, he would crush her with capital until she crawled back begging.

He turned around. His eyes locked onto his target like a hawk.

"Initiate a hostile takeover of MY Corporation immediately," he ordered, voice dripping with venom. "Cut off their supply chains. Block their bank loans. Back her into a corner until she comes crawling back to me."

Connor nodded quickly and rushed out.

Bradley looked back out the window, jaw clenched tight. "You can't escape me, Herminia."

Two days later, Bradley sat behind his desk. His dark eyes were fixed on a small, black velvet jewelry box resting near his keyboard.

He reached out and slowly popped the lid open.

Inside lay the "Tears of an Angel"—a legendary diamond necklace that caught the light and fractured it into a million blinding pieces. He had bought it at an underground auction for an astronomical price. It was supposed to be Herminia's third-anniversary gift.

He stared at the diamonds, dark possessiveness clawing at his throat. Once his hostile takeover crushed her company and brought her to her knees, he would personally fasten this necklace around her neck. He would lock it on her like a collar, forcing her to understand who truly owned her.

The intercom buzzed. Connor's voice came through. "Sir, the emergency cross-border merger meeting is starting. They need you now."

Bradley frowned. He moved to secure the velvet box inside his biometric wall safe. But the intercom buzzed again with rising urgency, and his mind flashed to Herminia's defiant eyes. Distracted and furious, he shoved the box into the safe and slammed the heavy steel door—failing to realize the latch hadn't fully engaged.

He grabbed his suit jacket and marched out.

Ten minutes later, the heavy wooden door of the CEO's office slowly pushed open.

Kristal walked in wearing the latest Chanel tweed suit, holding a designer lunchbox. She was here to check if Bradley was secretly contacting that bitch Herminia. "I have an urgent delivery for him," she had lied sweetly to the secretary, slipping past while the assistant turned to answer a call.

Seeing the office empty, she boldly walked behind the massive executive desk.

Her eyes instantly locked onto the slightly ajar steel safe, the edge of a luxurious black velvet box peeking out from the shadows.

Greed surged through her. She reached out and pressed the silver latch.

The lid popped open. The diamonds sparkled fiercely under the office lights, dazzling her.

Kristal gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth, her body trembling with pure excitement. She recognized it immediately from fashion magazines. The Tears of an Angel.

Her mind raced. Next week was her twenty-fourth birthday. Her vanity instantly convinced her that this was Bradley's surprise gift for her—a way to make up for the ruined European vacation.

She carefully lifted the heavy necklace from the velvet and held it against her pale neck, turning to look at her reflection in the window. She imagined the faces of the high-society women at her birthday party. They would die of jealousy.

Suddenly, the sharp click of high heels sounded in the hallway.

Kristal panicked. Her fingers tightened around the necklace. She couldn't bear to put it back. Bradley had practically left it out for her—he must have wanted her to find it. This was her gift. She deserved it.

Without another thought, she shoved the diamond necklace into her designer handbag. She snapped the empty velvet box shut and pushed it back to its exact spot, hiding the theft.

A secretary walked in, her eyes flashing with disgust when she saw Kristal behind the desk. "The CEO is in a meeting."

Kristal lifted her chin arrogantly, acting like the lady of the house. "I was just leaving his lunch."

She walked out of the office, a massive, triumphant smile spreading across her face. Her handbag, heavy with the stolen treasure, swung at her side.

As soon as she hit the hallway, she pulled out her phone and opened her private group chat with her socialite friends. She quickly typed a message bragging about the priceless, world-class diamond necklace her "man" was about to give her.

She smiled maliciously at her screen. She was going to invite Herminia to the party.

She wanted that loser to watch her wear it.