The Neglected Wife's Return To The Top

From the back cover

For three years, I maintained the flawless image of Mrs. Clark Saunders, believing my husband's polite distance was just his form of respect.

That was until I overheard him in the garden, confessing that he only married me to stay in the estate and protect his late brother's widow, Kathryn.

When Kathryn fainted, Clark shoved me aside to rush to her. He immediately moved the widow and her spoiled son into the suite next door.

When the boy deliberately shattered the only photograph of my dead parents, Clark simply scolded me.

"Ana, he's just a child. Are you really going to throw a grieving woman and her son out?"

On our third anniversary, he abandoned me at a ruthless high-society gala to buy Kathryn a six-million-dollar diamond necklace.

As punishment for my husband's absence, my strict family matriarch forced me to stand outside in a freezing blizzard in a thin evening gown.

Clark didn't care if I froze to death; he was busy comforting his crying sister-in-law in a luxury hotel.

I had always thought he just needed time. But I overheard him tell Kathryn he had never touched me because he was "saving himself" for her.

I wasn't a wife. I was a convenient shield, a piece of furniture in their twisted love story.

But they underestimated me.

I tricked him into signing divorce papers hidden in a stack of charity documents.

I packed my bags, demanded my six million dollars, and walked out the door.

It was time they learned what a real crisis looked like.