She Was My Wife, Now a Trillionaire

Just then, a soft, familiar voice drifted toward them. "What are you all standing here for?"

Arabella stepped off the far terrace, her phone still clutched in her hand. Her eyes were wide with a flicker of surprise, though her face remained impossible to read.

Brenton and Archie traded a fast look, both letting out a quiet, synchronized sigh of relief. They were well aware of just how much Arabella's world revolved around her family. If she'd actually heard a word of their conversation, there was no way she'd be this composed; she'd be in tears, falling apart and making a scene.

Brenton offered a small, practiced smile as he reached out to take her bag. "It's nothing, really. Why didn't you just come in?"

He was undeniably striking, his tailored charcoal suit perfectly accentuating his tall, athletic build.

With C&S Technologies exploding to a ten-billion-dollar valuation, Brenton had become the golden boy of the local tech scene before even hitting twenty-seven.

Brenton carried the effortless charm of a winner; a little bit of kindness from him was usually enough to win over anyone.

Arabella's fingers were icy and shaking, but even as Brenton touched her, he didn't seem to notice a thing.

That kind of empty, fake affection was the last thing Arabella wanted. She took a mental breath, forcing herself to stay sharp and see things for what they were.

Arabella forced a thin smile. "I had a call come through and didn't want to interrupt your meeting, so I stepped onto the terrace to take it."

At that, every bit of tension vanished from Brenton's face.

Archie frowned with displeasure. "Since you chose to be a housewife, stay away from the office. If you absolutely have to visit, make an appointment like everyone else. You're wasting Brenton's time. You've always been reckless and immature—your sister would never act like this."

Arabella thought bitterly that if it had been Brinley, the visit would have been celebrated, and every move she made would have been called perfect.

Arabella simply nodded and said, "You're absolutely right."

Archie's brow furrowed. Normally, Arabella would have argued relentlessly or done something desperate to prove she was Brinley's equal. Why was she being so gentle all of a sudden?

Instead of feeling satisfied, her quiet submission made him feel strangely dismissed. He figured it was just her usual, disappointing performance that was getting under his skin.

His frown deepening, Archie said, "You haven't visited in ages. Come back home for dinner tomorrow; Mom and Dad have some things to discuss with us."

"Of course." Brenton spoke up. "I'll make sure Bella is there."

Without so much as a parting look at Arabella, Archie turned and walked away.

Brenton guided Arabella into his office and immediately reached out to pull her into his arms. "What's with the surprise visit? Did you miss me that much?"

The familiar, woody scent of his cologne filled Arabella's senses. She placed a hand against his chest, her eyes locked on the bag in his hand. It contained the results of her fertility tests, but she realized there was absolutely no point in showing him anymore.

She was practically radiating tension, and Brenton's smile faded as he caught onto her odd demeanor. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Arabella looked up at him, and for a fleeting second, she felt a burning urge to slap the fake concern right off his face. But she knew a scene like that wouldn't actually fix anything. She wanted out—she wanted a divorce. She was done with the Rogers family once and for all.

More than that, she needed proof that Brinley was behind the attack that had nearly destroyed her years ago. She was going to get the justice she deserved, no matter how long it took.

"Do you really think I don't measure up to Brinley?" she asked in a low voice.

Brenton blinked, surprised. So, that was what was eating at her. He gave her forehead a playful tap. "You don't need to be comparing yourself to her, Bella."

It was the kind of statement that could be taken in two very different ways. The first way to take it was that she simply fell short of Brinley in every way. The second was that she was her own person, unique in the world.

Before, Arabella would have chosen to believe the second version. But now, she knew better. Brenton had meant the first. She didn't expect him to have a way with words, masking cutting words beneath a gentle tone.

Before she could sit with that thought, the office door swung open with a hard knock, and Sallie walked in carrying two cups of coffee.

Arabella used the interruption to slip away from Brenton's embrace and settled herself on the sofa.

Sallie set one cup down on the table in front of Arabella and carried the other over to Brenton.

"Your coffee, Mr. Curtis," Sallie cooed, bending down slightly.

Brenton reached for the cup, and as he did, Sallie's fingers grazed his palm.

"Sallie, was it?" Arabella abruptly spoke.

Sallie stiffened. Brenton's fingers closed a little tighter around the cup. He looked over to find Arabella watching them both with a gentle smile.

"I just want to change my drink to juice. I'm on medicine for pregnancy, so coffee isn't recommended. Why are you both suddenly so tense?" Arabella's voice was soft.

"Go get it changed," Brenton commanded, his tone icy. His stern gaze wordlessly warned Sallie to obey.

The color left Sallie's face. She pressed her lips together. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Curtis. I'll bring the juice for you right now."

She picked up the cup and got out of the room as quickly as she could.

Arabella watched Sallie go, her expression unreadable, until Brenton stepped into her line of sight and blocked the view entirely. She laughed lightly. "Can't even handle basic tasks properly. Since when did you become so lenient with interns?"

The tension in Brenton's face eased. He had sensed that something was off about her demeanor, but looking at her now, it seemed to be just jealousy—nothing significant.

Leaning over the back of the sofa, he brought his face closer to hers, amusement sitting plainly in his eyes. "Jealous, huh? She's just a college student I'm sponsoring, here for an internship. She is young and innocent, so why are you picking a fight with a little girl?"

Arabella inwardly sneered. Apparently, Brenton had forgotten that she had worked tirelessly by his side since she was eighteen to help build this company.

In the beginning, C&S Technologies was nothing more than a tiny team of fewer than ten employees.

She had started as Brenton's basic assistant and worked through every hardship until she finally earned the position of head of the public relations department.

She could still vividly remember a time when a difficult client had brought her to tears, and she recalled exactly how Brenton had reacted. "If you want to do this job well, you have to deal with setbacks. Nobody is going to tolerate your mistakes or your bad moods."

At that time, she had foolishly thought that Brenton's harsh attitude was a form of discipline meant to push her forward for her own good.

Ultimately, she realized that he was perfectly capable of being compassionate; he simply chose never to show that kindness to her.

......

Stepping out of the building, Arabella felt her strength vanish, and she collapsed onto a nearby roadside bench.

Slowly, she lowered her head and hid her face in her trembling hands.

Every bit of her composed facade disappeared, replaced by a deep sense of sorrow and bitter resentment.

As the sun began to set, the autumn wind brought chilling raindrops that soaked through her clothes.

Watching the withered leaves get crushed into the mud by passing cars, she felt that her love and loyalty had been destroyed in the exact same way.

Eventually, her shaking body grew still as she regained control over her emotions.

Lifting her head with newfound determination, Arabella took out her phone and dialed a familiar number without hesitation.

Although the person on the other end picked up immediately, Arabella found herself unable to utter a word.

"Arabella? What's wrong?" asked a voice that sounded both familiar and somewhat unfamiliar at the same time.

Feeling tears sting her eyes, she whispered, "I'm sorry for bothering you at this hour. I wanted to know if I could still apply to join the lab for the eVTOL project."

She held her breath, her face turning red as a wave of uncertainty washed over her.

At just fifteen, she'd beat out the competition to get into Alverton University, a world-famous academy, where everyone pretty much pegged her as a prodigy in aircraft design.

During her junior year, she actually cracked the code on obstacle avoidance using multi-sensor fusion. Her algorithms basically made drones way more reliable and accurate at dodging things in their path.

She took that tech and built a drone for fire monitoring that was so advanced for its time that it even blew her professor away.

Her professor helped her land a patent, which paved the way for her master's degree and PhD, and her professor even took her on as his last protégé. Back then, it felt like she had the world at her feet.

Arabella donated that patent to the nation. At the time, she was easily the professor's star pupil. She didn't stop there; she teamed up with some college friends to start LightWing Aerial, a promising company focused on lightweight aerial photography.

But four years ago, blinded by what she believed to be love, she walked away from her dreams, her studies, and her bright career, failing her professor's expectations just to work as Brenton's assistant.

Even so, her professor never actually gave up on her; two years back, he flew all the way from Trouport just to ask her to join his lab for the newly established eVTOL project, but she turned him down again.

But now, upon reflection, she regretted her decision and all the sacrifices she'd made for Brenton. Not a little, but deeply and profoundly, in a way that settled right in her bones.

Biting her lip roughly enough that it almost bled, she listened to the warm, excited voice on the other end of the line. "Of course! As I said, as long as you want to come back, the door is always open! When can you get here? I'll book the flight for you right now—is tomorrow too early?"

Arabella felt a rush of warmth. "But is the professor still..."

"Oh, you know how he is! Just show up and surprise him. Trust me, the second he sees you, he won't be mad anymore. And if he is, just cook him a good meal—maybe two if he's really grumpy."

She finally smiled through her tears. "I'll cook for him every day if that's what it takes! I might need about a month to get everything sorted out on my end. Is that okay?"

"Take all the time you need. I'll be here waiting for you."

"Thank you. Really."

Arabella ended the call and sat in quiet for a moment. The heaviness that had been sitting on her chest had loosened, just a little. One month. That was all she needed. Enough time to end the marriage, pack up what was hers, leave this city behind, and finally go after the life she had put on hold.

She lifted her head, and for the first time in a long while, everything had felt clear.

At that precise moment, a black Bentley rolled past. The back window was rolled halfway down, and through it, Arabella could see a young woman perched on a man's lap, the two of them kissing without a care, the cold autumn air moving around them like it wasn't even there.