The Silent Wife’s Million Dollar Revenge Chapter 1

Ten years into my marriage, my multi-millionaire husband became fixated on the new company assistant.

She was nearly forty, less striking than I, and certainly not as meticulously maintained, yet in three short months, she had injected a fierce, brand-new emotional vitality into Rhys.

He looked at me, exhaustion etched across his face, and said:

“You can have the real estate and the shares if we separate. Audrey, can you please just let me go?”

I raised my eyes and replied softly, “All right.”

Then I tore a small square from a sticky note and drew a star on it.

Divorce Countdown: 30 days.

* * *

I handed Rhys the divorce agreement a mere twenty-eight minutes after he confessed his affair and asked for a separation.

As agreed, the mansion, the luxury cars, and our daughter would all be mine.

He would pay me a one-time settlement and child support of $30 million.

After that, neither I nor our daughter would contact him again.

Rhys was in the middle of a video conference. He glanced up, his eyes catching the words “DIVORCE SETTLEMENT AGREEMENT,” and his lashes gave the faintest, almost imperceptible tremor.

He lifted his chin, signaling that he understood.

I slipped out of the study.

To expedite his departure, I had packed all of Rhys’s personal belongings. Five massive suitcases in total. Concerned about forgetting anything, I even carefully tucked away the commendations he’d earned during his college years, stored deep in the utility room.

My gaze finally rested on the framed wedding photo in the corner.

In the picture, Rhys’s eyes were focused only on me, and my expression was one of shy devotion. We were clasped in a tight embrace beneath the canopy of an old oak tree.

Back then, he would hold me and whisper sweet words: “Honey, I’ll always love you.”

“The luckiest moment of my life was marrying you.”

Rhys and I met in graduate school. He was a struggling student back then, wearing faded corduroy and threadbare sweaters. I had plenty of suitors, but I fell for Rhys instantly. He was brilliant, ambitious, and handsome. He possessed every virtue I could count.

After graduation, we married seamlessly, and he and his partners founded their company. To support his endeavor, I stepped back from my own career. I dedicated myself to caring for Rhys and managing our home.

As the business grew, Rhys’s travel and networking became increasingly frequent. I maintained my yoga and skincare routine between the grocery runs and the housework. And Rhys never truly slacked off. Even when exhausted, he would come home, help Willow with her homework, and sometimes even load the dishwasher, helping me navigate family and neighbor relations.

To outsiders, we were a perfect couple, the model of a successful marriage.

I can’t pinpoint when Rhys started scheduling his trips for the weekends. Sometimes he’d be gone for entire weeks, a continuous blur. My friend, Ava, would often joke, urging me to keep a closer watch, warning me about possible changes. I’d assure her I wasn’t worried, but my gut would tighten.

I’d delivered documents to Rhys’s office a few times. Everything seemed normal. His team was busy working late, and the woman in question was busy at her desk.

Her name was Sienna. Nearly forty, not stunning, and dressed plainly. She had soft, long, wavy hair and spoke with a gentle, almost Southern drawl. She politely offered me tea.

I had imagined this scenario over the years. I thought it might be a sharp, powerful female director, a glamorous intern, or maybe a cool, high-profile client. I never once considered his assistant.

I’d heard she was newly single after a long-term relationship ended due to infidelity. This was her first job back, and she was exceptionally dedicated. She volunteered for overtime, remembered everyone’s coffee order, and often brought in homemade gourmet cookies. Some colleagues, for convenience, even asked her to run errands for them.

When I found out, I told Rhys she sounded hardworking and suggested he look out for her.

Rhys was typically nonchalant. “The workplace isn’t about favors. I’ve already warned her not to engage in personal transactions.”

Back then, I laughed, thinking my husband was just a stereotypical, rigid boss. Now, I realize he was likely protecting Sienna, worried about her having to run errands after working late.

As for why Rhys chose today to confess?

It was simply because, as was my routine, I had prepared him a light, late-night soup after a business function.

He stared at the bowl, frowned slightly, gently pushed it away, and remained silent for a long time.

He then looked up at me, his eyes drained of warmth, and asked if we could divorce.

He admitted the affair had been going on for three months. He'd met her during his "travels."

My heart felt as if it had been pricked by a thousand needles, but I forced myself to maintain my composure. I asked who it was.

When he said Sienna, I genuinely thought I had misheard.

A dizzying sensation of numbness and sharp pain spread through my limbs.