Blurb：
When Cassandra Hollis discovers scarlet velvet box meant for mistress Tessa Rourke - the same scholarship student her charity nurtured - her IVF struggles with wealthy husband Graham Barrett transform into cold vengeance. This marriage thriller exposes Barrett Enterprises' dirty secrets as Cassie manipulates nanny cams, deleted chat logs, and Eleanor Barrett's cruel dynastic ambitions. Watch the Hollis heiress dismantle corporate empires while confronting loveless bedsheets, forged warehouse emergencies, and shocking Mercer Hotel rendezvous. Who'll beg first - the billionaire husband clinging to hollow vows, or the gold-digging mistress recording their 5-20 code?
Key hooks:
- Barren wife outsmarts fertility clinic betrayal
- Family基金会 scholar becomes homewrecker
- Forensic accountant best friend Jenna unlocks digital footprints
- Police-raid confrontation at anniversary suite
- Mother's slap ignites financial revenge blueprint
Content：
§01For a fleeting second, a fragile, desperate hope flickered within me.
The box on the coffee table was a deep crimson, the kind of expensive velvet jewelers use, tied with a silken black ribbon.
It was frivolous. Impulsive.
It was the kind of gift Graham hadn’t bought me in years.
Not since the parade of negative pregnancy tests had bled the spontaneity from our marriage, replacing it with scheduled injections and clinical procedures.
Maybe he remembered.
Maybe, after this latest, most brutal round of IVF had failed, he finally saw *me* again.
Not just the broken, barren womb he was waging a relentless war upon.
Then, his voice drifted through the slightly ajar terrace door, smooth and intimate.
It was the voice he used to use on me, late at night, when the world was just the two of us.
Now, it was for her.
“Did the delivery guy send you that cheap lingerie set too?” a girl’s voice, bubbly and petulant, whined through his phone’s speaker.
My hand, hovering over the delicate ribbon, froze in mid-air.
“The quality was garbage. I threw it out,” Graham said, his voice a low, dismissive murmur. “Besides, you don’t need things like that to please me.”
A beat of charged silence.
“Just give me a son, Tessa,” he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ll give you anything you want.”
The hope inside me didn’t just die.
It curdled.
Later, when his empire was in ashes and he was kneeling at my feet, he would beg.
“I don’t want anything anymore, Cassie. Just stay. Please?”
But in that moment, staring at the box of “garbage” lingerie meant for his mistress, now a hand-me-down for his inconvenient wife, I felt nothing but a cold, terrifying clarity.
Our marriage wasn’t a tragedy.
It was a meticulously constructed lie.
And I had been its most devoted believer.
§02
I took a deep, steadying breath, the air burning in my lungs.
I had to compose myself. The performance of a lifetime was about to begin.
I smoothed the imaginary creases from my pajamas, rubbed the sleep from my eyes, and schooled my features into a mask of sleepy surprise.
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The End