After the Divorce, I Married the Richest Man Alive

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Five years of marriage, and Elliot Sanchez pulled the plug on our dying son's ventilator just to force me to sign the divorce papers.

He drove my mother into such deep depression that she threw herself off a building.

I didn't take it lying down. I leaked confidential company files and bankrupted him. Then I grabbed a knife, ready to take us both out.

The first slash caught his left shoulder. The second aimed straight for his chest, but his little secretary threw herself in the way.

The police hauled me off. One year behind bars for aggravated assault.

By the time I saw him again, he'd clawed his way back to the top.

One arm around his secretary. The other around their son. A picture-perfect family of three, dripping with sweetness.

And me? I was wearing a servant's uniform, scrubbing floors.

Elliot Sanchez spotted me in my sorry state, and a sneer split his face. His voice dripped with mockery.

"A woman who's done prison timewhat gives you the right to show your face here? I bet the Farleys have no idea about your little stint behind bars. If they did, you wouldn't even be fit to polish their shoes."

Me? Not fit?

I had never been to prison. Today wasn't just the day my husband, Dudley Farley, was being inaugurated as CEO of Farley Group. It was also my son's first birthday celebration.

I had more right to be here than anyone.

When I said nothing, Elliot only got bolder.

He brought his secretary right up to block my path.

"Imogen Henson, I have to saya year in prison and your skin's still this smooth. You must have been bribing the guards left and right. But then again, you were flat broke back then. A woman with nothing to her name... what could she possibly use to bribe anyone? Unless it was"

He dragged out the last syllable, his gaze crawling over me from head to toe.

The implication was unmistakable.

After all these years, his mouth was still just as filthy.

I reached over casually and picked up a fruit knife from the table beside me. Gladys Fox, standing at Elliot's side, went rigid with alarm.

She flung her arms wide, planting herself squarely in front of him.

Just like she had back then.

"Imogen, sweetie, I know my showing up in your life made you bitter. If you're angry, take it out on me! Leave Elliot out of this!"

I turned the fruit knife over in my hand, then reached for a pear and began peeling it, slow and deliberate, one long spiral at a time.

Once upon a time, Elliot and I had dated for four years before walking down the aisle.

My family and I had poured every dollar and every ounce of effort into propping him up, launching his career to heights he never could have reached alone.

Then, on our fourth wedding anniversary, a new secretary joined his company.

Gladys Fox.

From that point on, he came home later and later. Midnight became three in the morning, and three in the morning became not at all.

My son and I huddled together in that empty house, clinging to each other. Until the day my boy was diagnosed with leukemia.

Throughout all those rounds of chemotherapy at the hospital, Elliot never visited. Not once.

The only time he showed up was while I was overseas on business. He walked into that hospital room and pulled the plug on our son's ventilator.

I rushed back from abroad, desperate, frantic, but I didn't even get to see my child's body. All that was left for me was a handful of ashes that scattered the moment the wind touched them.

And Elliotthe devoted husband in everyone else's eyeshad spent the day of our son's funeral in a hotel room with his secretary.

The memory surged through me. I looked down at the pear in my hand, saw Elliot's face, and drove the knife straight into it.

If today weren't such a special occasion, I would have buried that blade in the bastard's chest without a second thought. Without mercy.

Elliot watched me seething in silence, and he laughed again. In his eyes, I was nothing but a Farley household servant. Even if I wanted to lay a hand on him, I wouldn't dare.

I turned to leave. My plan was to wait until the gala wrapped up, then settle the score with this disgusting pair properly.

But before I could take a step, a little boy came running at me and hurled something straight in my direction.

"You evil woman! What are you trying to do to my mommy and daddy!"

Something sharp sliced across my neck. I felt a thin line of cold, and when I reached up to touch it, my fingers came away red. Blood.

Elliot and Gladys's kid stood in front of me with his hands on his hips, chin jutted out in that insufferable way that was a carbon copy of his father.

Something clattered to the floor. I looked down and finally saw what it was: a small pair of scissors.

They weren't big, and a child didn't have much strength behind them, but they'd absolutely broken the skin on my neck.

I walked over, picked up the scissors, and threw them right back without hesitation. Elliot moved fast, lunging forward to shield the kid.

The scissors didn't touch his skin, though. Neither of them had so much as a scratch.

"Imogen! Have you lost your mind? He's a child!"

Gladys let out an ear-splitting shriek, throwing herself into Elliot's arms as she screamed.

"Elliot, are you okay? Are you hurt?"

She looked him over from head to toe, then dropped to her knees to inspect the kid.

Once she'd confirmed they were both fine, she stormed over to me and slapped me across the face.

I didn't see it coming. She actually landed it.

But I wasn't someone who took a hit lying down. I slapped her right back.

Elliot clearly hadn't expected that a woman reduced to working as a servant would still have the nerve to fight back. He swung his arm and shoved me to the ground.

"You psycho! What the hell do you want? I get it now. You knew I'd be at the Farley gala tonight, so you planted yourself here on purpose, waiting to hurt my child and my wife!"

Gladys's screaming had already drawn a crowd. Now, with this new commotion, people closed in around us, whispering among themselves.

"Isn't that Mr. Sanchez? Why is he getting physical with a servant?"

"I saw the whole thing. That woman tried to hurt Mr. Sanchez's child!"

"Exactly. His wife got upset and tried to discipline her, and she actually had the gall to hit back!"

"Shameless. Just because she works for the Farleys, she thinks she's one of them? She's not even fit to shine Mr. Farley's shoes!"

I sat on the floor where Elliot had shoved me, listening to every word.

I thought of my own child. The one who was gone.

The bitterness and the absurdity of it nearly choked me. All I'd done was throw a pair of scissors back at Gladys's kid, and Elliot flew into a rage, putting his hands on me.

But my child, my own flesh and blood, had been lying in a hospital bed dying of a terminal illness, calling out for Daddy over and over again.

And he hadn't batted an eye.

I clenched my jaw. My fists tightened until my nails bit into my palms.

A few seconds later, I let go.

Let it go. Pick your battles.

I'd gone to the auction in secret, outbid everyone under a fake paddle number, and bought the Bloodstone Qilin that had been missing from the Farley collection for over a century. All for Dudley. All so I could surprise him tonight.

I wasn't about to let trash like this ruin it.

I got to my feet slowly. Glen had art class today. Dudley would've gone to pick him up by now and should be back any minute.

I needed to find somewhere to hide so I could surprise him and our son.

But the crowd kept running their mouths, each comment uglier than the last. Some called me shameless. Some called me a tramp. One man actually called me a homewrecker.

I genuinely didn't understand. Were these people blind? Where exactly did they get "homewrecker" from?

Did they just assume that when two women appeared near the same man, one of them had to be the other woman?

I shot a murderous glare at the man who'd called me a homewrecker.

He took one look at the venom on my face and shut his mouth.

But Elliot clearly wasn't done with me. Seeing the defiance still burning in my expression, he let out a cold laugh.

"He called you a homewrecker, and he wasn't wrong."

Elliot walked up to me and leaned in close, his voice pitched low enough for only the two of us to hear. "After all, the one who isn't loved is always the other woman."

Then he turned around and took Gladys's hand, raising it high for everyone to see.

"This is my wife. The only woman I will never betray."

The crowd erupted in cheers. People gushed about what a stand-up guy Elliot Sanchez was, what a responsible man.

I watched the spectacle and felt nothing but bitter amusement. On the day we graduated college, Elliot had said those exact same words to me.

Imogen, you're the only woman I'll ever marry. I will never love anyone else as long as I live.

During the years between our first date and our wedding, I'd believed every syllable. He'd given me no reason not to. He was attentive, responsive, present for me and for our child.

Then Gladys Fox appeared, and all of it crumbled to dust.

But if he could fall in love with Gladys while married to me, what guarantee did Gladys have that he wouldn't do the same to her?

A flicker of pity crossed my face before I could stop it. Elliot caught it, and for a second he looked thrown off, as though he assumed his words had wounded me.

He leaned in again, whispering against my ear. "I know things must have been rough for you since you got out of prison. How about this: I'll set you up with a place to stay. Every weekend, I'll come visit you. And if you behave yourself, maybe I'll stay a few extra days."

"Get lost."

I had no interest in entangling myself with Elliot Sanchez ever again. Dudley would be home any minute now.

All I wanted was to surprise my husband.

I turned and started walking away. But the moment I passed Gladys, her leg shot out.

Crack.

I hit the ground hard. The box in my pocket flew out and skidded across the floor.

I tried to push myself up, but the pain that tore through my knees was impossible to ignore.

Through the haze, I heard the whispers starting up again.

"That box looks awfully expensive. How would a servant have something like that? She probably stole it from the Farleys."

Elliot stared at the box, his expression calculating. He clearly believed them. In his mind, I'd stolen it from somewhere.

A second later, he walked over, picked it up, and opened the elegant case in front of everyone.

Nestled inside was the Bloodstone Qilin.

"Isn't that the Farley family's Bloodstone Qilin? The one that's been passed down for centuries?"

Gladys shrieked the moment she saw it.

The fact that the Bloodstone Qilin was a Farley heirloom was no secret in Crestfield. Most people knew it had been stolen over a hundred years ago.

I had spent months tracking down every lead, following every thread, until I finally discovered where the Bloodstone Qilin had ended up. Then I'd placed the winning bid at auction.

All so I could surprise Dudley today.

I never imagined the treasure I'd fought so hard to win would end up in someone else's hands.

I gritted my teeth against the searing pain and forced myself to my feet, reaching for what was mine. But Elliot's grip on the Bloodstone Qilin tightened like a vise, disbelief stamped across his face.

The people around us had recognized it too. Suspicion gleamed in every pair of eyes.

"So that's why you showed up at the Farley estate. For the Bloodstone Qilin."

"Stealing other women's husbands wasn't enough for you? Now you're stealing family heirlooms too?"

Gladys's words set the crowd ablaze. I lunged forward, ignoring the pain, but Elliot seized my arm and held me in place.

"This isn't the real Bloodstone Qilin. Anyone with eyes can see it's a fake." He scoffed. "She was just trying to use this knockoff to swindle the Farleys out of their money."

Elliot put the artifact back in its box and shot me a warning look.

"This thing's been lost for centuries. How would a servant end up with it? It's obviously a fake!"

"She's right. Something this precious, and even the Farleys couldn't track it down? But somehow she found it?"

The crowd murmured in agreement. No one believed someone of my station could possibly have gotten her hands on the Bloodstone Qilin.

"This woman made a counterfeit, and I'm going to teach her a lesson she won't forget!" Gladys pulled out her phone and dialed. "I'm sending you straight to the police!"

Within minutes, the wail of a patrol car cut through the air. Elliot grabbed my arm without ceremony and dragged me toward the front entrance.

"Imogen, if you beg me right now, I can make this go away."

I didn't even look at him. Beg? He could keep dreaming.

I hadn't broken any laws. Why would I beg anyone for anything?

Least of all this worthless excuse for a man.

The front doors loomed ahead, officers already waiting on the other side. Elliot panicked. He seized my shoulders and forced me to stop.

"Do you really have to be this stubborn? Just swallow your pride for once! Whether this is a fake or something that actually belongs to the Farleys, blowing this up won't end well for anyone!"

I gave him a sidelong glance, my eyes full of contempt.

"I don't bow to dogs."

"You!"

His face went scarlet.

"Fine! Then don't blame me for washing my hands of you. I'd love to see how you explain yourself to the police!"

Gladys and I, the accuser and the accused, were taken to the station. Elliot followed close behind.

Gladys watched me the whole ride. When I said nothing, she mistook my silence for fear, and the look she gave me turned even more scornful.

"Officers, look!" She held up the box the moment we walked in. "This is the Farleys' legendary Bloodstone Qilin! And it was found on a servant. If she didn't steal it, how else would she have gotten it? On top of that, this woman has a criminal record! Lock her up!"

The officer on duty listened to Gladys, then looked me up and down in my servant's uniform. Disdain settled over his face immediately.

"All right. Start talking. How'd you get this?"

"I bought it. Give it back."

He didn't believe a word. In his eyes, a servant couldn't possibly afford the Bloodstone Qilin.

"If the Farleys find out about this, you're done for. So you'd better come clean now. Cooperate and maybe you'll get a lighter sentence. Unless you're eager to go back to prison?"

Gladys's shrill voice cut in from beside me. I ignored her completely.

I turned to the officer and asked if I could make a phone call. He nodded. I pulled out my phone and dialed Dudley's number.

The call connected.

And in that same instant, the phone was slapped out of my hand. It hit the concrete floor with a sickening crack.

"Oh, give it up, sis." Gladys's voice dripped with mock sweetness. "Who are you even calling? Your dead mother? Or some man you found on the side? I heard you shacked up with some guy thirty years older than you. The second you left Elliot, you turned into nothing. Proved everyone right."

While she was still talking, she reached into her purse, pulled out a thick stack of cash, and tossed it at the officer. His eyes lit up. He mumbled something about having other business to attend to, handed the Bloodstone Qilin over to Gladys, and walked away without a backward glance.

"Tell you what, I'll be generous." Gladys smiled down at me. "If the Farleys found out you were trying to pass off a fake as the real thing, and then it came out that you're Elliot's ex-wife? The embarrassment alone would bury you. So here's what we'll do. Get on your knees. Knock your head on the floor twice. Thank me. And I'll let you walk out of here today."

I stood where I was. Silent. Still.

My eyes were fixed on the phone lying on the floor, split clean in two.

That phone. I'd carried it for years.

My mother gave it to me as a birthday present, right before she died. She'd been frail for so long, barely able to stand, spending her days collecting bottles and scraps to save up a little money. And she'd used it to buy me a phone that cost five figures.

I still remembered the last words my mother ever said to me: "Imogen, that man doesn't love you. Let him go. Mama will always love you, and you have to always love yourself."

At the time, I'd been stunned. I couldn't understand why she would say something like that. She had always liked Elliot. He'd played the role of the perfect husband flawlessly back then, without a single crack in the facade.

It wasn't until later, after I'd done some digging, that I learned the truth. Elliot had deliberately gotten intimate with Gladys right outside my mother's hospital room. The shock was too much for her. She spiraled into severe depression.

Already frail and not wanting to be a burden on me, she jumped from the roof of the hospital.

I let out a quiet breath, my jaw clenched so tight my teeth ached.

"Gladys Fox, you'd better pray my phone can be repaired."

"It's just a phone. You think I can't afford to pay you back for it?"

Elliot frowned at my fixation. "Are you looking down on me? If you hadn't leaked those secrets and bankrupted me, I'd probably be the richest man in the city by now!"

I scoffed. Leaked secrets? Back then, what I'd wanted to do was kill him.

"What's that look supposed to mean?"

Gladys sensed the shift in my mood and immediately stepped in front of Elliot, shielding him.

"Elliot, don't be scared. Worst case, I'll take another hit for you. I'm not afraid of anything."

Elliot stroked her hair tenderly and pulled her behind him.

Then he strode forward and wrapped his hand around my throat.

"Imogen, I was careless before, and you got the better of me. Let's make a little bet. Think you'll die by my hand today?"

I reacted fast, pulling a short blade from my sleeve and slashing toward him. He dodged it with surprising agility.

But before I could recover, something slammed into the back of my skull. Gladys. A vase.

Blood seeped down from my forehead, warm and thick. I forced myself upright. I would not bow my head in front of these two.

"I knew you'd try something. Imogen, I'm not letting you off easy today!"

Elliot seized a fistful of my hair and hurled me sideways. My body cracked against the wall.

Just before everything went dark, I heard his voice.

"Imogen! Are you alright?"

Thank God.

I closed my eyes.

You finally came.