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No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return Novel Cover

No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

I went to the City Clerk's office for a routine copy of my marriage license to finalize a trust fund audit. I expected a simple piece of paper, but the clerk's pitying look told me my entire life was a lie. "The license was never finalized, Ms. Oliver. In the eyes of the state, you are single." The three-hundred-guest wedding at the Plaza and the Vogue features meant nothing. My husband, Gray Cooley, had intentionally filed the documents with a "procedural defect" so he could discard me without a legal divorce. Moments later, an iCloud invite titled "Our Little Secret" popped up on my screen. It was a photo of my best friend, Brylee, holding a positive pregnancy test at our Hamptons estate. Gray's text to her was the final blow: "Happy anniversary, babe. This baby is the best gift. Once the trust unlocks today, we're done with the charade." I soon discovered they were even stealing my career, reassigning my architectural masterpiece to Brylee while preparing my eviction notice. Gray's mother called me a "barren mule" in a leaked recording, mocking the infertility I suffered after saving Gray's life in a construction accident. I wasn't a wife; I was a three-year placeholder used to secure his inheritance. How could the man I bled for treat me like a disposable prop? How could my best friend carry his child while pretending to comfort me through my darkest moments? The betrayal burned until it turned into a cold, hard stone of fury. I didn't cry. Instead, I walked into the penthouse of the Barretts, the Cooleys' most powerful rivals. I signed a marriage contract with Kane Barrett, the man the tabloids called the "Beast of Wall Street." "I want a wedding," I told his father, my voice steady and lethal. "Bigger than the one I had with Gray." If they wanted me gone, they would have to watch me become the woman who owns their world.
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Chapter 7

Night had fallen over the city. Haleigh lay in the master bed, staring at the ceiling. She hadn't cleaned up the broken glass.

She knew Brylee. Brylee was impatient. Brylee was greedy. Now that she was "co-manager" of Zenith, she would want to prove herself immediately. She would need the confidential files Haleigh kept in the bedroom safe.

Haleigh had prepared. She had left a stack of files on the desk-decoys. And she had placed a single strand of her own long, dark hair across the top folder.

She turned off the lamp. The room plunged into darkness, save for the moonlight slicing through the curtains.

She waited.

At 2:00 AM, the handle turned.

Haleigh had left it unlocked on purpose.

The door creaked open. A shadow entered. It was bulky, moving with a clumsiness that betrayed nerves.

Brylee.

The shadow moved toward the desk. The soft glow of a phone flashlight clicked on, sweeping over the papers.

Haleigh opened her eyes. She lay perfectly still, controlling her breathing.

Rustle. Rustle.

Brylee was flipping through the files.

Haleigh sat up. The mattress springs didn't make a sound.

"What are you looking for?"

Her voice was low, ghostly.

Brylee shrieked. It was a high, thin sound of pure terror. The phone clattered to the floor, the light spinning wildly.

Haleigh reached over and flicked on the bedside lamp.

Brylee was pressed against the desk, clutching her chest. Her face was the color of paper.

"I... I..." Brylee stammered. "I have a headache. I was looking for aspirin. Inez said you kept some in here."

Haleigh swung her legs out of bed. She stood up and walked slowly toward Brylee.

"Aspirin is in the bathroom," Haleigh said. "Not in my project files."

She stopped inches from Brylee. Haleigh was taller, and in this moment, she felt like a giant.

"You look guilty, Bry," Haleigh said softly. She reached out and brushed a piece of lint off Brylee's shoulder.

Brylee flinched as if burned. She stumbled back, hitting the edge of the desk. "You're paranoid. You need help."

Haleigh leaned in, her lips close to Brylee's ear.

"You know what happens to rats when they come out at night?"

Brylee trembled. "What?"

"They get their necks snapped."

The silence that followed was heavy with violence.

Brylee grabbed her phone from the floor and bolted. She ran out of the room without looking back.

Haleigh watched the empty doorway. A cold smile touched her lips.

She walked to the desk. The hair was gone.

She sat on the edge of the bed. The adrenaline faded, leaving a dull ache in her abdomen. An old injury.

She touched the scar on her side. The construction site accident two years ago. She had pushed Gray out of the way of a falling rebar. It had pierced her side, damaging her uterus.

"You may never conceive," the doctor had said.

Gray had cried. He had held her hand. "It doesn't matter. Adoption, surrogacy, it doesn't matter. I just want you."

A tear leaked from Haleigh's eye. She wiped it away furiously.

He had lied. He had used her infertility-caused by saving his life-as the excuse to replace her with her best friend.

There would be no mercy.

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