Three Hundred Million Reasons to Leave

Ten years after I took her place at the altar, the golden child finally came back from her global victory lap.

She played the exact same innocent act she did a decade ago. She handed a glass bottle stuffed with beach sand to Lachlana thirty-two-year-old billionaire CEO. Every grain of sand is a second I spent missing you.

Lachlans shoulders locked.

Hazel walked toward me with a confident smile. "I'm back. The cheap knock-off can leave now."

When Hazel bailed ten years ago, twenty-two-year-old Lachlan practically died of a broken heart.

I honestly wanted to know. How would the ruthless corporate titan react to her now?

Chapter 1

Knowing my place, I slid into the back seat of his Maybach.

Lachlan stared at me through the rearview mirror. His brow furrowed. "What are you doing?"

Ten years of surviving the trenches together meant I could read his mind. I gave him a flat look. "We made a deal when we got married. I'd never try to actually take Hazel's place."

A decade ago, Hazel vanished into thin air. My biological parentsBeatrice and Gregorydragged me out of a rural trailer park just to cover their tracks. They shoved me into a designer gown, threw me in front of the press, and forced me to marry Lachlan to save their precious corporate merger.

On our wedding night, Lachlan drank himself into a blackout. He held me and sobbed Hazel's name until the sun came up.

Over the next ten years, Hazel lived her best life at Hawaiian luaus. I stayed behind, swallowing my pride and playing the perfect, submissive wife to appease Nadine, his demanding stepmother.

Hazel posed for selfies with penguins in Antarctica. I chugged scotch with sleazy executives until my stomach bled, all just to land Lachlan his first independent contract.

Hazel chased the Northern Lights and trekked through jungles.

Meanwhile, I navigated the endless hostility of Lachlan's family politics. I miscarried our first baby. Then our second. I even had a kidnapper's hunting knife pressed hard against my throat.

She played tourist for ten years, waltzed back into town, and demanded I hand over the empire I built with my own blood. She wanted the prize without paying the price. Over my dead body.

Lachlan opened his mouth. His jaw worked. "Sloane, we"

The car's Bluetooth display lit up, cutting him off. Hazel's name flashed on the dashboard. Lachlan slammed the accept button.

"Lachlan?" Hazel's voice echoed through the speakers, carrying an unconcealed shy excitement. "Beatrice and Gregory mentioned you guys still don't have kids. Is it because you were waiting for me?"

Beatrice shouted hurriedly in the background. "Hazel! Stop talking nonsense!"

Bile burned the back of my throat. My lungs forgot how to pull in air.

The topic of kids was a literal minefield for me. I hid my second pregnancy for six agonizing months. Then the heavy metals kicked in. The toxins ravaged my system. The heartbeat stopped.

They induced labor to deliver the baby I had already lost.

The physical agony tore me apart. I screamed until the copper taste of blood flooded my mouth.

Lachlan held my shaking body on the hospital bed. He wept into my hair and swore he would never let anyone hurt me again. And for a while, he actually kept his word.

It took him three years to exile Nadine and his half-brother Chase. He seized absolute control of the board. During a national interview, he dropped a few rehearsed PR lines thanking his supportive wife.

Exactly one week after that broadcast aired, Hazel caught a flight home.

Lachlan caught my dead-eyed stare in the rearview mirror. He jammed his finger against the screen, killing the call. "Sloane, Hazel doesn't know about everything we went through. Don't let it get to you. She's lived a sheltered life. She just blurts things out without thinking"

"Drop it," I snapped. "The almighty CEO suddenly has so much to say the second Hazel's name comes up. Since when do you make excuses for anyone?"

Lachlan frowned slightly. He whipped the steering wheel hard to the right, throwing the car into park against the curb. "Sloane. Are you still holding that over my head?"

My chest constricted. A phantom sting flared across my cheekbones.

Nadine had accused me of lacing the cookies with peanut butter. Her loyal maidsled by that vicious vulture Mildredyanked my hair back and drove my kneecaps into the hardwood floor.

I stared up at Lachlan. My vision blurred. He had been right next to me the entire afternoon. He knew I was innocent.

He just stared at his shoes. He swallowed hard. Not one word left his mouth.

Twenty slaps.

I counted every single ringing crack against my skull.

Chapter 2

Blood pooled in the corner of my mouth. My cheek throbbed, hot and swollen. Lachlan pressed two ice packs into my hands with a guilt-ridden look the second we locked the bedroom door. "The timing isn't right. I need you to understand."

That single word forced my grievances back down my throat.

The throbbing woke me up at 2 AM. I crept toward the kitchen fridge for fresh ice. A hushed voice stopped me dead in the hallway.

"Thank god it wasn't Hazel. She wouldn't have survived that."

My lungs seized.

Building a marriage? Trauma bonding? All pure bullshit. Lachlan never knew I had heard that conversation.

Now, sitting in the Maybach, my taunt hit a nerve. Lachlan shoved open the car door, struck a match, and lit a cigarette on the curb. Hazels name lit up the dashboard again. He swiped answer on his phone. He forgot to disconnect the Bluetooth.

"Lachlan?" Her sweet voice filled the car. "Can you come over tonight? I need you."

The audio cut off instantly.

Outside, Lachlan crushed his cigarette under his dress shoe. He kicked a stray pebble into the gutter, clutching the phone to his ear. The ruthless billionaire looked exactly like the desperate twenty-two-year-old I used to know.

The ultimate first love. One text from her, and his brain simply melted.

Ten minutes dragged by. Lachlan slid back into the driver's seat, rubbing his temples. "Sloane, I'm taking you to the penthouse. Tonight, I might need to"

"Save it," I snapped. I refused to listen to whatever pathetic excuse he cooked up just to run back to Hazel. My fingernails dug into my palms. I forced my breathing to level out. "You run a multi-billion dollar empire, Lachlan. You don't report to me."

The sudden ice in my voice made him flinch. He smacked the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. "Sloane, you constantly put these walls up. Why are you always so desperate to push me away?"

I almost laughed in his face. He crossed every red line in our marriage, yet somehow played the victim.

I turned my head toward the window. My throat burned. I locked my jaw, refusing to let a single tear drop. Ten years in this ruthless family taught me one rule: never break character.

A heavy silence choked the car. Then, my phone buzzed. Beatrice.

"Sloane, your father and I don't know what to say to her. We had to beg Lachlan to come persuade Hazel to let things go. Just give your sister a little grace. She's still so young. She'll figure it out eventually."

A harsh scoff ripped from my throat. Thirty years old was young?

When they dragged me to the altar ten years ago, they sang a completely different tune. "You're an adult now, Sloane. It's time to pay this family back."

The air in my lungs turned to ice. "It's honestly impressive, Beatrice. You and Gregory still bend over backwards to clean up Hazel's messes." I leaned my head against the cold glass. "At least you're using a civil tone this time."

Beatrice and Gregory didn't track me down until I turned eighteen. The second I stepped foot in their mansion, Hazel made it her mission to destroy me.

She staged pathetic little accidents and pointed the finger right at me. My biological parents swallowed every single lie.

It peaked when Hazel deliberately threw herself down a flight of marble stairs. She laid on the floor, weeping, and swore I pushed her.

Gregory didn't even ask for my side of the story. He just backhanded me across the face.

Beatrice scolded me for being vicious. She told me they never should have brought me home.

Chapter 3

They never asked for my opinion. Not once. They just unanimously decided to ship me back to the trailer park.

They only remembered their biological daughter existed when Hazel pulled a runaway bride stunt and they needed a desperate fix. Truth be told, I had barely spent a full year with my so-called family.

"Sloane, do you really hate us that much?" Beatrices voice trembled with sheer disbelief.

The question actually caught me off guard. I thought my complete lack of emotional attachment to them was glaringly obvious. Did ten years without Hazel blur the lines? Did they actually forget their place?

A blinding headache pounded behind my eyes all night. I stayed up drafting the perfect divorce settlement.

Switched at birth. Dragged back. Tossed aside. Forced down the aisle. I never had a choice in my own life.

But this divorce? This was going to be on my terms.

At 9:00 AM sharp, my phone rang. Lachlan. "Last night"

"Lachlan! Come eat! I made sunny-side-up eggs just for you!" Hazel's sweet voice chimed in the background.

My stomach turned instantly. "I'm not interested," I cut him off. My voice was pure ice. I had already pictured a hundred different versions of their "last night," and every single one made me sick.

"Sloane, do you have to be so damn cold?" Lachlan snapped.

I stayed dead silent. On his end, Hazel practically hovered over the receiver. "Don't fight with her, Lachlan," Hazel whimpered. "If she really hates me that much, I can just leave for another ten years."

"Don't say that." Lachlan's voice dropped into a soft, comforting murmur. Then, his tone shifted back to me. "There's a family dinner at the estate today. I expect you to be there."

"You have to come, Sloane!" Hazel chirped into the phone.

The line went dead. I gripped my phone tightly. Of course I was going. My parents. My husband. Why the hell should I hide?

Two hours later, I pulled up to the estate. I stepped out in a stunning designer gown, looking immaculate.

Hazel sat cross-legged on the plush velvet sofa, completely barefoot. She wore a silk pajama set, her hair left loose in a perfectly messy wave. She waved a thick stack of Polaroids, excitedly showing them her worldly adventures.

Hazel froze when she saw me. Then, she covered her mouth and giggled. "Sloane! It's just a casual family dinner. Why are you dressed like you're going to war? Are you really that desperate to compete with me?"

My heels stopped dead on the marble floor. My fingernails bit into my palms. But I forced a bored, dismissive smirk onto my lips. "Please. That 'no-makeup' makeup look must have taken you hours," I drawled. "We aren't the same, Hazel. If the paparazzi catch me looking like a slob, it tanks Lachlan's stock prices. I actually have an empire to protect."

"You!" Hazel shot up from the couch. On cue, her eyes turned red. A single, perfect tear welled in her lash line. "You're just a thief! You stole my entire life the second I left, and you actually have the nerve to flaunt it?"

The sheer irony of the fake golden child calling me a thief. It was almost hilarious. I glanced at Beatrice and Gregory. They just stood there, completely paralyzed.

A harsh, bitter laugh ripped out of my chest. "A thief? Really, Hazel? Let's be very clear about who stole what."

Chapter 4

"When it suited you, you played the perfect heiress. You staked your claim on Gregory and Beatrice's entire fortune. But the second things got hard? You played the independent rebel. You claimed you needed to find yourself. You bailed. You left me to clean up your mess, deal with these toxic people, and rot in this absolute joke of a marriage!"

"Sloane!" Lachlan roared. The silence shattered. "Do you really have to rub your regrets in my face?"

His eyes burned a bloodshot red. He lunged at me, his right hand raised high.

I tilted my chin up. I locked eyes with him, daring him to do it. Hit me. Let that slap finally wake me up from the pathetic illusion of being your wife.

"Lachlan, stop!" Hazel threw her arms around his waist from behind. Her voice cracked with manufactured sobs. "We already cleared the air last night. I know where your heart is now. I'm satisfied. Please don't fight with my sister because of me. I can't bear it."

Cleared the air? Why didn't he peel her off him? White noise flooded my skull. The words spilled out before I could stop them.

"You act so tough around me, Lachlan. But the second Hazel snaps her fingers, you heel like a well-trained dog!"

Crack. Skin collided with bone. The sheer force snapped my head to the side.

Hazel peeked out from behind Lachlan's broad shoulders, her lips curling into a triumphant smile.

"Sloane." Beatrice rushed forward. Her manicured hands trembled as she reached for my stinging cheek.

"Don't touch me!" I snarled. I ripped myself away, stumbling backward to put some space between us. I glared coldly at Lachlan. "I want a divorce. Ten years of my life. Three hundred million dollars. I'd say we're even."

Lachlan froze. His eyes widened in shock. He stared at me intently.

Hazel jumped in instantly. "Lachlan built his company! Gregory backed him! What does any of that have to do with you? You got to play the billionaire's wife for ten years. You already won the lottery, and now you want cash