Divorcing The Billionaire: My Spectacular Comeback

I thought my cold marriage to billionaire Ernst Winters was finally thawing after a night of unexpected intimacy.

But the next morning, he threw a check in my face, accusing me of drugging his water just to get pregnant.

Desperate to prove my innocence, I confronted my adoptive mother, who had been in our room that night.

Instead of defending me, she fell to her knees in front of Ernst, crying fake tears.

"She did this once before, you know, just to get you to marry her. We can't let Haley stand in the way of your happiness with Keely any longer."

Ernst looked at me like I was a monster.

I was chased out into the rain, hit by his car, and left to rot in a hospital bed while they threw a lavish welcome party for my cousin Keely's return.

Stripped of my marriage and family, I tried to start over by applying to a prestigious design firm.

But the interviewer publicly humiliated me, throwing my portfolio on the floor and calling me a cheap plagiarist.

When I looked up the genius new designer I supposedly copied, my blood ran cold.

It was Keely.

She hadn't just orchestrated the end of my marriage; she had stolen my graduation portfolio and claimed my entire life's work as her own.

The grief vanished, replaced by a cold, hard fury.

My original, hand-drawn sketches were still locked in a storage box in my adoptive mother's attic.

It was time to go back and burn their perfect little world to the ground.