"I may have been a trophy wife, but now I'm the one holding the trophy" Agatha De Rossi, fresh out of a brutal marriage with business tycoon Nathan Richards, is ready to trade her diamonds for dynamite. With the help of her father, Aldo, the elusive CEO of NexGen, Agatha transforms from trophy wife to tech heiress with a vengeance. Manhattan's elite becomes her hunting ground as she infiltrates Nathan's world to dismantle his empire piece by piece. But a wrench gets thrown into her perfectly laid plans: Charles Campbell. Nathan's rival, a billionaire with charm to spare and eyes that see right through Agatha's disguise. Will Agatha resist Charles' allure and stay focused on revenge? Or will their undeniable chemistry ignite a passion hotter than any boardroom battle? Click now and find out if Agatha gets her revenge, her man, or maybe both.
View MoreAgatha POV:“Ms. De Rossi?”That deeper voice again, Detective Miller, like gravel rolling downhill. It cut through the office air, making Camille flinch beside me. I forced a smile, plastered and fake, and turned to face them.“Detectives,” I said, cool as I could manage, nodding towards the plush chairs. “Please, come in. Have a seat.”They didn’t move, just stood there, blocking the doorway, Detective Davies’s eyes flicking around my office like he expected Nathan to jump out of the potted plant.“We’re fine standing, Ms. De Rossi,” Miller said, his voice polite but firm. “Just a few questions, if you don’t mind.”Mind? My heart was doing a tango in my chest, but I kept my face smooth. “Of course. Anything to help find Nathan.” Lie. The word tasted like ash in my mouth, but it was necessary.“We understand you saw Mr. Richards rece
Agatha POV:The spreadsheets blurred on my computer screen. Numbers swam before my eyes, and the carefully crafted charts seemed to mock my inability to focus.My office, usually a sanctuary of calm efficiency, felt like a pressure cooker today, the weight of NexGen, the weight of Dad’s health, the weight of everything, pressing down on me.I sighed, pushing back from my desk, the leather chair creaking in protest. Coffee. I needed coffee.Or maybe something stronger.But it was barely past noon, and even as CEO, showing up to a board meeting tipsy wasn’t exactly a power move.Just as I stood up, intending to make a run for the office kitchen, Sarah buzzed
Nathan POV:Another shot of whiskey, neat.The bartender, a burly man with eyes that had seen too much and judged nothing, slid the glass across the polished mahogany bar, his movements practiced, efficient, devoid of any warmth or sympathy.Good. Sympathy was the last thing I needed. Pity was poison.All I needed was the burn of the whiskey, the numbing oblivion it offered, a temporary escape from the relentless torment of my thoughts, the gnawing emptiness that had become my constant companion.Days had bled into weeks since I’d sent the letter to Agatha, a desperate, pathetic plea for forgiveness, for another chance, for a lifeline in the drowning sea of my despair.
Agatha POV:“Agatha, board meeting in five. They’re getting restless.”Sarah’s voice, sharp and efficient, buzzed through the intercom, dragging me back from the swirling vortex of my thoughts.“Thanks, Sarah. I’m on my way.” I replied, sighing and pushing back from my desk. Restless was an understatement.The NexGen board was more like a pack of hungry wolves these days, and I was starting to feel like the main course.But as I gathered my notes, my gaze drifted to the corner of my desk, to the cream-colored envelope leaning against my pen holder.Nathan’s handwriting.My stomach clenched. I hadn't touched it since it arrived yesterday, hadn't dared to open it, hadn't even wanted to admit it existed.But its presence was a heavy weight, a silent accusation that pulled at me no matter how hard I tried to ignore it.Board meeting be damned. I needed to know
Agatha POV:“Agatha, come in, come in! Don’t just stand there like a sentinel, you’re letting all the heat out.”Dad’s voice, though still raspy from weeks of disuse, boomed from the depths of his study, a welcome sound that chased away the lingering chill in my heart.I smiled, shaking my head at his theatrics, and stepped inside, the familiar scent of old books, leather, and his ever-present cigars enveloping me in a comforting embrace.He was sitting in his favorite armchair by the fireplace, a worn leather-bound volume in his lap, his reading glasses perched precariously on his nose.Color had returned to his cheeks, his eyes sparkled with their usual intelligence, and the oxygen tank that had been his constant companion for weeks was now tucked discreetly behind the chair.He looked… like himself again. My father. My rock.“Took you long enough,” he grumbled, a playful glint
Charles POV:“Agatha,”I murmured, my voice soft, drawing out the syllables, letting her name linger in the air between us. “You’re quiet.”She was standing by the window, the city lights reflecting in her dark hair, her silhouette a delicate outline against the dawn sky. Beautiful. Untouchable. Mine.I watched her, a possessive warmth blooming in my chest, chasing away the lingering unease of our earlier conversation.Last night had been… a breakthrough. A turning point. She was mine now, in a way she hadn't been before.“Just thinking,” she replied, her voice a soft whisper, barely audible above the gentle hum of the city waking up.
Agatha POV“Charles, what did you say to Nathan?”The question hung in the air of his penthouse, sharp and direct, a stark contrast to the soft jazz music drifting from hidden speakers, the plush velvet couches, the breathtaking city view framed by the massive windows.I watched him carefully, searching for any flicker of deception in his usually open, confident gaze.He turned from the window, a half-empty glass of amber liquid swirling in his hand, his brow furrowed in what looked like genuine confusion.“Nathan? What are you talking about, Agatha?”“Don’t play games, Charles,” I said, my voice steady, my gaze unwavering. “He
Agatha POV:“Don’t bother calling me again, Agatha.”Nathan’s voice, sharp and cold, sliced through the phone, making me flinch.“What? Nathan, what are you talking about?” I asked, my voice a mix of confusion and a sudden, sharp stab of anxiety. What had happened now?“I said don’t call me,” he repeated, his tone flat, final. “I won’t help you. I won’t help NexGen. Do whatever you want. I don’t care anymore.”“Nathan, wait!” I pleaded, my heart pounding against my ribs. “Dad is still in the hospital, NexGen is in trouble, and you’re just… giving up? Now?”
Charles POV:“Jasmine, cancel my afternoon meetings.”The words were out before I even registered the thought, a reflex honed by years of wielding power, of snapping my fingers and expecting the world to rearrange itself accordingly.But as I watched Jasmine’s perfectly sculpted eyebrow arch in that familiar, silent question, a flicker of… something akin to shame pricked at my conscience.“All of them, Charles?” she asked, her voice a model of professional neutrality, yet I detected a subtle undercurrent of… concern? Or was I just projecting?I waved a dismissive hand, turning away from the floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of a city I suddenly felt discon
I stood in shock, staring down at the papers scattered across the floor. Divorce papers, with Nathan's signature already scribbled on the line. He couldn't even look me in the eye as he uttered those heartless words. "You should start packing. Only take what you came with." The pounding of my heart drowned out all other sounds. This couldn't be real, it had to be some twisted joke. I searched Nathan's face pleadingly, hoping to find even a hint of remorse or regret. But his eyes remained cold and distant. "Nathan, please...we can talk about this. What happened to make you want this so suddenly?" My voice cracked with emotion. Three years of marriage, three years of giving everything to this man, and his lavish lifestyle, meant nothing to him now. He sighed in annoyance. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be, Agatha. It's over. I've already filed the paperwork. Now just pack your things and go." White-hot anger swirled within me now, battling with the remnants of grief and...
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