Gone for a Year, She's 8 Months Pregnant:The Hidden Billionaire's Revenge

New Year's Eve.

I'd spent an entire year overseas, clawing open foreign markets for my father-in-lawexactly as I'd promised. Now I was back to deliver the good news in person.

What I found instead was my wife, her belly visibly swollen, perched on another man's lap.

Cynthia Pruitt flinched when she saw me. She started to pull away, but the man tightened his grip on her hand.

"It's okay, babe. I'm right here."

Then he turned to me with a lazy smile. "So you're Marcus Dickerson. Hate to break it to you, but it was the Henson family that opened those foreign markets for Uncle Walter. He's already agreed to let Cynthia be with me."

Before I could say a word, my father-in-law stepped out from the hallway. The look of undisguised contempt on Walter Pruitt's face could have curdled milk.

"Marcus, haven't you seen the news? I've already announced the alliance between Pruitt Corp and Henson Corp. You're not fit to be my son-in-law anymore. If you know what's good for you, you'll sign the divorce papers and get out of my daughter's life."

A sharp pain lanced through my chest. I looked at Cynthia. "Is that what you want too?"

She bit her lip hard enough to leave marks, as though steeling herself for what came next. "Marcus, my father's business survived because of Adam's familythe Hensons. And you... you were just making empty promises."

I laughed.

She had no idea that it was me who had saved Henson Corp from the brink of bankruptcyon the sole condition that they support her father's business.

Without me, none of them were anything.

"You piece of trashdon't tell me you think this is some kind of joke?"

Walter seemed thrown by my reaction. He'd expected rage, begging, maybe a scene. Instead, his surprise curdled into a sneer.

"You're nothing but a common laborer. The fact that I let you marry my daughter and stay for three years should be the crowning achievement of your miserable life. Now I'm giving you a chance to walk away with a shred of dignity. You should be thanking me."

A cold smile tugged at my lips.

What none of them knew was that I'd founded my own company long before I ever married Cynthia. But she'd always dreamed of a simple, quiet lifeso I'd stepped back, handed the reins to people I trusted, and became the ordinary husband she wanted.

Then Walter's business started hemorrhaging money. Every domestic avenue dried up.

I saw the worry eating away at my wife, so I made a decision: I'd open the foreign channels myself.

I reached out to contacts overseas, but Walter couldn't communicate with international partners directly. So I turned my attention to Henson Corp, a company drowning in the same waters. I threw them a lifeline and turned them into the bridge Walter needed.

My one condition: Walter Pruitt would be their top-priority client.

It took me a full year to build those connections from the ground up.

On my way home, I'd seen the press conference. Walter, beaming before the cameras, announcing the Pruitt-Henson marriage alliance. I'd told myself it had to be some other girl from the familya cousin, maybe a niece.

Never Cynthia.

But if I was being honest, the signs had been there for a while.

During that year abroad, I'd video-called Cynthia almost every night. In the beginning, she'd pick up, smiling, warm. Then the calls grew shorter. Her tone turned impatient. Eventually, she stopped answering altogether.

I told myself it was the distance. That was all.

But sometimes, before she hung upor before she declined the callI'd catch a man's voice in the background. While she was out shopping. While she was getting out of the shower. While she was lying in bed.

When I asked, the answers came quick and easy. A friend's husband. My girlfriend's boyfriend. Just someone nearby.

I trusted her. I didn't let myself think the worst.

Now, standing here, Adam Henson's voice merged with every one of those phantom voices, and the picture finally clicked into place. Cynthia had been lying to me the entire time.

I ignored Walter's taunts. My gaze dropped to Cynthia's belly.

"How far along?" My voice was level. Quiet.

Cynthia pressed her lips together and looked away, unable to meet my eyes.

It was Adam who answered, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "It's not your kid. Why do you care?"

He paused, savoring the moment. "But sure, I'll tell you. Eight months."

He strolled over and leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear. "Fun factwe slept together the night you left."

His grin widened. "You're the textbook definition of a cuckold."

From behind us, Walter's voice cut through like a whip. "Adam, don't waste your breath on him. He's a nobodya common worker with nothing to his name. Stop giving him the time of day."

Adam glanced back with a smirk. "Uncle Walter, the man's still your son-in-law. Who knowsmaybe he'll make something of himself one day."

Walter scoffed. "Him?"

"That deadbeat couldn't amount to anything if you gave him a hundred years."

He turned to Cynthia. "Sweetheart, where's that divorce agreement I told you to have ready? Go get it. Let this waste of space sign."

Cynthia nodded and gave me a brief glance before disappearing into the house.

There was nothing in that look. No warmth, no anger, no guilt. Just the gaze of a stranger.

Three years of marriage. Two of those years, I'd treated her like she was the center of my world.

One year away on business, and this was what I came back to.

She'd moved on before my suitcase was even unpacked.

Almost laughable, really.

But it all came down to one thingthey all thought I was broke.

The truth was, I had more money than both their families combined.

Snow began to fall, and the aroma of a home-cooked meal drifted from inside the house.

A cold smile tugged at my lips.

Clearly, I'd interrupted their family dinner.

Adam spoke up again. "Uncle Walter, it's snowing out here. That's not good for the babyCynthia shouldn't be standing in the cold. Why not let him come inside to sign?"

The corner of his mouth curled. His meaning was transparenthe wanted to humiliate me on their turf.

Walter let out a derisive snort. "Our two families are on the rise. I doubt he'd have the nerve."

I swept a glance at the bodyguards stationed around the villa. At a subtle look from Walter, every one of them turned their eyes on me.

Ready to move the instant the order came.

So this was how it was going to be. A trap dressed up as a dinner invitation.

But I'd been to every corner of this country and seen far worse.

Not a ripple of unease. I smiled faintly. "Why wouldn't I dare?"

As I stepped inside, I sent my location to my people.

The dining table in the living room was laid out with an impressive spreadsteaming dishes that filled the air with rich, savory warmth. Through the kitchen doorway, I caught sight of Eunice bustling over the stove. She turned, spotted me, and her expression shifted from surprise to undisguised contempta mirror of her husband's.

There was a time I would have given anything for this kind of warmth. An orphan's hunger for family runs deep.

Now, all I felt was cold.

The moment I sat down, Cynthia walked over with the divorce papers and set them in front of me.

"Marcus. Just sign."

I scanned the document, taking in every clause.

I'd braced myself. But when my eyes landed on the words relinquish all marital assetssomething still twisted behind my ribs.

I wasn't a live-in son-in-law. I'd never taken a dime from her father. The house downtownI'd bought it. I'd spoiled Cynthia like a princess.

I didn't pick up the pen. I closed the agreement and set it aside.

Walter's eyes narrowed to slits. "Whatyou won't sign?"

I shook my head. "Just hold on."

"You came into this family with nothing. Don't tell me you think you're entitled to a share of my assets." His voice rose. "Don't even dream about it!"

Beside him, Cynthia's tone was flat and distant. "Marcus, don't push your luck. You should understandbetween my family and Adam's, we have more than enough power to make sure you never find your footing anywhere again."

"Letting you walk away empty-handed is already generous."

I lifted my gaze to meet hers. "Is that so? By that logic, I should be thanking you all for sparing my life?"

Cynthia's jaw tightened. "That's right. You need to recognize the gap between us."

The gap.

A faint smile crossed my face. "You don't need to tell me. I see it perfectly clearly."

"I'll sign. But first, you answer two questions."

Walter erupted instantly. "Who the hell do you think you are, making demands of me?!"

But Adam held up a hand, stopping him, and smiled.

"Uncle Walter, don't rush. Let's hear what ridiculous question he wants to ask first." Adam's gaze slid toward me, loaded with meaning. "Besides, he's signing today whether he wants to or not."

Walter let out a cold laugh at that.

I ignored them both and spoke evenly.

"First question. How much profit have your two families pulled in over the last few months?"

Walter had no intention of answering, but Adam waved him offsaid I should get an education on what real money looked like.

Walter sneered. "Pruitt Corp brings in roughly ten million a month."

"Even a tenth of that is more than you'd earn in a lifetime."

Adam smiled thinly. "Impressive, Uncle Walter. Though Henson Corp edges you outfifteen million."

I nodded. "Second question. Where do your major clients come from?"

"From what I understand, there aren't many domestic players left in your industry. Most have already been weeded out."

Walter glanced at Adam.

Adam caught his meaning instantly.

"The hell are you digging into, you worthless mutt?"

"Henson Corp has exclusive overseas client channels. Dragonrise Holdings brokered the introduction for us."

A faint smile crossed my face. "So that confirms it. Your only pipeline is that single foreign trade channel."

"I'm just curiouswhat happens to you if that pipeline dries up?"

Walter looked at me as though I'd told the funniest joke he'd ever heard.

"Who do you think you arethe CEO of Dragonrise?! You think you can just shut it down?!"

That was when Eunice Pruitt emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands, her expression dripping with contempt.

"Why are you all wasting your breath on him? A deadbeat like him has probably never even set foot inside Dragonrise's lobby."

"I could hear everything from the kitchen. All that talking, and he's still shamelessly refusing to sign. He just wants moneythat's all this is."

The room erupted in laughter.

Then Walter's face turned to stone.

"You won't touch a single cent of mine. Sign the papers like a good boy, and we're done. Refuse" His voice dropped. "and you won't be walking out of here."

When I still didn't move, Adam let out a mocking laugh. "Looks like you really don't know when to take the easy way out."

"I despise people touching what's mine. You spent three years as Cynthia's husband, so here's what you're going to doknock your forehead on the ground three times, then crawl between my legs."

His smile widened. "Do that, and maybe we'll let you leave breathing."

I chuckled softly. "Henson Corp, is it? No wonder you were on the brink of bankruptcy back then."

"But tell medid you actually think I was asking those questions because I wanted your money?"

They laughed again.

"A broke loser like you? If it's not money, what else could you possibly want?"

"You're wrong." My voice was calm, unhurried. "I have zero interest in your pocket change. I just wanted to see how ridiculous you all look bragging about those pathetic little numbers like they're achievements."

"And alsoto confirm whether you have any fallback options."

Cynthia's lip curled in disgust. "Marcus, would it kill you to stop bluffing for five seconds?"

"Adam's family is backed by Dragonrisean absolute titan. What, you think you can bring down Dragonrise?"

Adam pulled her into his arms. "Sweetheart, your taste was really something else back then. Marrying this idiot."

Walter's expression twisted, dark and vicious. "I was only going to rough you up a little. But now you have the nerve to run your mouth?"

"I've wanted you gone for a long time. If it weren't for my daughter, you think you'd still be alive today?!"

"Get in here!"

His palm slammed the table.

But the next momentsilence. Nothing but silence from behind the door.

A middle-aged man in glasses walked in and approached me, his posture deferential.

"Mr. Dickerson, the men outside have been taken care of."