Thanks for the $100M: The CEO's Ultimate Revenge

One hundred million dollars. That was the severance package my ice-cold CEO wife tossed at me.

She shoved the divorce papers across the desk, staring at me like I was a pile of trash. Not enough? Don't be greedy.

Disdain dripped from her eyes. She waited for me to drop to my knees and beg, just like I had for the past three years.

Too bad a completely new soul had taken over this body.

I just found it hilarious.

I grabbed the pen off the desk. I slashed my signature across the dotted line. Quick and clean.

I slapped the papers right back into her arrogant face.

"When does the money hit my account?"

Chapter 1

Valerie froze.

Whatever humiliation and mockery she had prepared caught in her throat. For the first time, her beautiful eyes widened, the pupils contracting sharply.

She stared at me, searching my face for any trace of a disguise, any lingering attachment, or a hint of pain. Too bad she found nothing.

My expression remained stone-cold. If anything I looked impatient.

"Tomorrow." She squeezed the word out through clenched teeth. All the color drained from her face.

"Great. I'll move out today." I stood up and stretched. My joints popped with a satisfying crack.

This body had a solid foundation. Six foot two, broad shoulders, narrow waist, with an eight-pack sculpted like marble.

It was a shame the original owner was nothing but a spineless simp.

From today on, I was taking full control of this body.

I turned and walked away without sparing her a second glance. I left her behind like a stranger.

A massive crash of shattering glass echoed behind me.

I didn't even need to look back. I knew Valerie had just hurled her custom Montblanc pen straight into the expensive floor-to-ceiling window.

Perfect.

This was just the beginning.

Back in my room, I felt zero nostalgia. I didn't even bother packing a suitcase. With that kind of cash, I could buy whatever I wanted. I only made one phone call.

"Warren? It's me, Easton."

Dead silence filled the line for three full seconds. Then, a respectful but trembling voice came through. "Easton Boss? What do you need?"

Warren. My assistant in name, but actually a watchdog planted by Valerie's family.

But later in the original plot, Conrad would frame him and nearly send him to prison. The original owner had scraped together every last penny to bail him out.

From then on, he became the original owner's most loyal right-hand man. Now, I was making him work for me ahead of schedule.

Chapter 2

"I have a job for you," I said, keeping it brief. "Tomorrow, a hundred million dollars is hitting my account."

"Take fifty million and head to the East End of Long Island. Buy out that abandoned waterfront warehouse plot. I don't care what they ask for it, just get it done."

"The East End the waterfront warehouses?" Warren drew a sharp, stuttering breath. "Boss, that area is desolate and practically a dump. Why buy that?"

I knew exactly why he was stunned. In half a month, the state government would announce their new zoning plans. A few Silicon Valley tech giants were setting up their new joint headquarters right there.

The value of that land was going to skyrocket more than tenfold.

"Just buy it. Cut the crap," I snapped, too lazy to explain. "Take the rest of the money and find me a penthouse or a villa with a private beach. I want absolute privacy and a massive open kitchen."

"Hire three Michelin-starred private chefsexperts in French, Italian, and healthy fusion cuisine. Get me a top-tier private sommelier and a nutritionist. Oh, and buy me a purebred Golden Retriever."

Dead silence fell over the line.

I could easily picture Warren on the other end, his brows deeply furrowed, questioning reality.

Buying a wasteland, hiring Michelin chefs, getting a private sommelier, and raising a dog? Even those reckless Hollywood trust-fund babies didn't burn cash like this.

"Boss did you and Valerie" Warren asked hesitantly.

"Divorced."

""

I hung up, feeling fantastic. Starting tomorrow, I was going to live a life of luxury that would make a Hollywood megastar jealous!

The next day, the bank notification chimed in more punctually than my alarm clock.

[ Deposit to account: 0-000,000,000.00 ]

I stared at that long string of zeros.

Perfect.

Warren worked fast. He called me right around noon, his voice still tinged with disbelief.

"Boss, I found the place. A standalone villa in Cloud Creek Estates. It has a heated infinity pool and a massive open kitchenhits every one of your requirements."

"The three Michelin chefs and the sommelier are locked in and ready to start. The Golden Retriever is also"

"The land?" I cut him off.

"Bought bought it too." Warren's voice grew weaker. "Forty-eight million in total."

"When they heard someone was actually buying, they jacked up the price at the last second. They basically treated us like giant suckers"

"Good job." I nodded in satisfaction. "You have full control over the rest of the funds."

"Set up a private equity firm and take the CEO position. From now on, you answer only to me. As for your salary let's start you at two million dollars a year, plus a five percent profit dividend."

"Two two million?!" Warren's voice cracked.

He worked himself to the bone as a senior assistant at Valerie's corporation for a fraction of that. And I, the "useless" ex-husband, was casually throwing down two million?

"Not enough?"

"No, no, no! It's plenty! Thank you, Boss!"

"From this day forward, I'll walk through fire for you!" Warren's breath hitched heavily through the receiver.

I knew it wasn't just about the money. It was mostly because I gave him the respect and trust Valerie never did.

Handing him a hundred-million-dollar operation without blinking an eye. Valerie didn't even have that kind of nerve.

Chapter 3

Everything sorted, I grabbed the keys to the cheapest Porsche in the original owner's garage and headed straight for Cloud Creek Estates.

The new place was perfect. Modern minimalist style, with massive floor-to-ceiling windows offering endless green views.

The first thing I did was have my three Michelin-starred chefs whip up their signature dishes. The French seared foie gras melted on my tongue. The black truffle beef Wellington was cooked to absolute perfection.

The caviar pasta was incredibly rich. Life is short, enjoy the moment. The only reason to hustle is so you can recklessly blow all this damn wealth without a second thought.

After dining, I dove into the infinity pool for half an hour. I let the California sun beat down on my wet back, water droplets tracing the sculpted lines of my eight-pack.

I stared at the face in the mirrorflawless enough to rival a Hollywood megastar. I couldn't help but sigh.

The only downside to transmigrating into this world was probably having to dodge the paparazzi every time I stepped outside.

Just as I was heading upstairs to catch up on my sleep, my phone buzzed. Unknown number. I swiped to answer.

"Easton?"

It was Valerie. Her tone remained ice-cold, but it lacked its usual sharp edge. Instead, it carried a hint of hesitation.

"What do you want?" I asked, rubbing a towel through my damp hair.

"You didn't go back to the estate today," she said after a brief pause.

That's when it hit me. According to our agreement, we had to keep the divorce a secret from our families for now.

The original owner used to go back to the family estate every single week to play the part of the devoted husband.

"Forgot," I replied honestly.

Dead silence on the other end.

I could easily picture her furrowing her brows right now. Forgot?

This was coming from the man who used to memorize her schedule better than his own social security number. How could he forget something this critical?

"Grandfather is waiting," Valerie's voice dropped another degree, the syllables clipped. "You'd better go explain yourself."

"Yeah, got it." I moved to pull the phone away and claim my afternoon nap.

"Wait." Valerie suddenly spoke up again. "That plot of land on the East End did you buy it?"

I raised an eyebrow. Word travels fast. "Yeah. Is there a problem?"

"Are you out of your mind?" Her breathing stalled through the speaker. "Easton, I know you want to prove yourself now that you have some money, but this is no excuse to throw a tantrum. You need to budget that cash, otherwise"

"Valerie." I cut her off with a dry laugh. "It's my money."

"How I spend it is none of your damn business anymore."

"You!"

"Also, don't say my name with that tone. Please, call me your ex-husband."

I hung up the phone. I could almost picture her miles away, listening to the dial tone, gripping her phone so tightly her knuckles turned white as she stared at the darkened screen.

When the weekend rolled around, I drove back to the family estate anyway. Not to put on a show, but simply because, in the original owner's memories, the old man hadn't treated him too poorly.

The second I stepped through the heavy oak double doors, a heavy crystal ashtray skimmed past my shoulder and smashed against the wall, scattering glass shards everywhere.

The old man of the familythe one who controlled the entire family trust fundgripped his cane until his knuckles popped, his jaw locked tight. He jabbed his silver-tipped cane right at my nose.

"I hear you and Valerie got a divorce! Who gave you the nerve? You've dragged this family's name straight through the mud!"

My parents stood off to the side, sighing heavily. Hunter, my so-called brother, was barely hiding a gloating smirk.

"Bro, you were way too impulsive. Valerie is so incredible, how could you just throw her away like that?"

I didn't even bother acknowledging him. In the original plot, this little punk tripped up the original owner at every turn.

He was dying to see me kicked to the curb.

Chapter 4

"Grandfather, I was the one who asked for the divorce." I looked at the old man calmly.

"You!" He raised his silver-tipped cane again, the wood trembling in his grip.

"A broken marriage is like shattered glass. Instead of the three of us wasting our time here, I'd rather just take the money and walk away. I haven't stooped so low as to beg for love."

The cane froze in mid-air.

His cloudy eyes locked onto me, seemingly trying to see right through me. After a long moment, he let out a cold snort and slammed his cane heavily onto the expensive carpet.

"Suit yourself, as long as you don't drag our family's name onto the front page of Wall Street."

Hunter, my half-brother, had his gloating smirk freeze on his face.

After leaving the family estate, I drove straight to a private art gallery downtown that was strictly open only to top-tier VIPs. According to the original plot, there was a small cello recital here today.

And the female lead, Juliet, would be making an appearance.

I wasn't here to force an encounter. It was just that my grand plan for a life of leisure required some high art to cultivate my tastes.

If I happened to meet a girl who looked like an angel along the way, wouldn't that be a nice bonus?

The recital was a massive success; the cellist was an international maestro. But the girl sitting in the seat next to me stole my attention.

She wore a simple white dress. Her long hair cascaded down like a waterfall, and her skin was as flawless as porcelain.

She wasn't sitting stiffly like everyone else. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her eyes closed, her fingers lightly tapping against her knee to the rhythm of the music. A faint smile graced her lips.

She wasn't just listening to the music; she was experiencing it. That pure, unfiltered joy made her practically glow.

As the final note faded, thunderous applause erupted across the hall.

She opened her eyesclear and bright as a doe's. She turned her head and met my gaze. Looking a bit shy, she offered me a sweet smile.

"You like Rachmaninoff too?" she whispered.

"I wouldn't say I love it," I shook my head. "I just feel there's a powerful vitality in his music. No matter how desperate things get, you can always find the light at the end."

Just like me.

Her eyes lit up.

"Looks like I've met an expert!" She reached out a hand. "I'm Juliet, it's great to meet you."

"Easton," I said, taking her hand. Her skin was incredibly soft, carrying a slight coolness that felt perfect against my palm.

"You're a very charming speaker." She laughed, her eyes curving into sweet crescents. "My mom always said that people who can appreciate that kind of vitality possess truly genuine and powerful hearts."

I smiled. Ma'am, you might be a terrible judge of character. The man standing in front of your daughter is as bad as they come.

We hit it off perfectly. We talked about everything from classical symphonies to modern abstract paintings, and from Shakespeare's sonnets to Van Gogh's Starry Night.

I realized Juliet's knowledge was far broader than I had imagined. She always managed to find the beauty in things from her own unique perspective. Talking to her felt like a relaxing stroll through a spring breeze.

"It's getting late, I should head back." She checked her watch, clearly reluctant to end the conversation.

"Need a ride?"

"Sure." She didn't play coy at all.

The moment we stepped out of the gallery, a hot pink limited-edition Lamborghini pulled up right in front of us with a deafening engine roar.

The tinted window rolled down, revealing a face with flawless makeup but dripping with pure hostility.

"Juliet, what are you doing hanging out with a guy like this?"

Chapter 5

The newcomer was Juliet's textbook plastic best friend and Valerie's loyal sidekick, Sydney. A stuck-up gold digger who looked down her nose at everyone.

"Sydney? What are you doing here?" Juliet blinked, her steps faltering for a fraction of a second.

Sydney stepped out of her car, her chin tilted up as she dragged her gaze slowly over my cheap clothes. "If I didn't show up, you were about to let some shady creep drag you away."

She turned to Juliet, grabbing her hand. "Juliet, do you even know who this is? He's Valerie's infamous, useless ex-husband, Easton!"

"He just got dumped, pocketed a little cash, and now he thinks he owns the world. Stay far away from men like him!"

Her voice was perfectly pitched, loud enough to catch the attention of several passersby. A few spectators threw us entertained glances.

Juliet furrowed her brows and pulled her hand free from Sydney's grip. "Sydney, he is my friend."

"Friend?" Sydney looked like she had just heard the joke of the century. "Juliet, you are way too naive!"

"A guy like him is just eyeing your family's background, looking for a free ride up the social ladder. Valerie said he used to be a stage-five clinger she couldn't peel off. He's definitely just running the same playbook on you!"

I crossed my arms, thoroughly enjoying her little performance. It was like watching a monkey jumping up and down for a peanut.

"Are you done?" I asked flatly.

Sydney choked on her words, her jaw snapping shut under my deadpan gaze.

"If you're done, move. You're blocking my car." I pointed past her bright pink Lamborghini to my unremarkable Porsche.

Sydney's face flushed a dark, mottled red. "You"

"Easton isn't who you think he is." Juliet stepped in front of me, staring Sydney down with absolute seriousness. "I trust my own eyes."

Wow. Unconditional trust.

That felt pretty damn good.

"Juliet, have you completely lost your mind?!" Sydney's voice shrilled, the veins in her neck straining.

"I haven't lost my mind." Juliet shook her head. She turned back to me with a soft smile. "Let's go. My mom is waiting for me to come home for dinner."

I gave a slight nod. I leaned in slightly, pulling open the Porsche's passenger door for her and gentlemanly shielding the roofline with my hand.

Juliet slipped inside, giving a cheerful wave to a completely dumbfounded Sydney left standing on the curb.

I hit the gas. The car pulled away smoothly. In the rearview mirror, Sydney shrank into a ridiculous little black dot.

"I'm really sorry about that," Juliet said, a rosy flush creeping up the back of her neck. "Sydney doesn't mean any harm, she just has no filter."

"It's fine." I smiled. "I never waste my time arguing with people overflowing with jealousy. It's way beneath me."

Juliet blinked in surprise, then burst into a genuine laugh. The tension in the cabin evaporated instantly. "You're actually pretty funny."

"I do alright. At least I didn't bore you."

We kept talking the whole ride until we pulled up to the Jiang family estate. It was even more magnificent than I had pictured.

"Do you want to come inside for a drink?" Juliet offered.

I shook my head. "No, maybe another day. I still have some things to handle." I needed to get back and enjoy my Michelin-crafted dinner.

"Alright." Juliet looked a tiny bit disappointed but gave an understanding nod. "Drive safe, then. Oh, right, this is for you."

She handed me an exquisite leather keychain, engraved with a minimalist compass design. "I saw this at an independent designer boutique and thought it really suited you. I hope it helps guide your way in this new chapter of your life."

I took the keychain. A faint scent of gardenia drifted from the leather, the exact same scent that lingered on her. "Thank you."

Chapter 6

Watching her disappear through the heavy front doors, I gripped the leather keychain, rubbing my thumb over its engraved texture.

I had to admit, having a beautiful girl actually care about me felt pretty damn good.

That good mood didn't last long. The second I walked into my new place, Warren called.

"Boss! We have a problem! A massive problem!"

"Slow down. Tell me what happened." I walked over to the wet bar and poured myself a glass of Macallan over ice.

I tossed it back, the liquid burning a sharp, fiery trail down my throat. Even if it was the end of the world, it could wait until I finished my whiskey.

"That land we bought it got leaked!" Warren's breath hitched, his voice cracking on the syllables. "The internet is tearing us apart. Everyone is saying we colluded with government officials to get insider information!"

"Valerie's corporate stock is taking a massive hit, it's already down five percent!"

"Oh?" I swirled the ice in my glass, not missing a beat.

This had Conrad written all over it. In the original plot, the very first thing he did upon returning to the States was use this exact scandal to attack Valerie and force her to hand over power.

Except this time, the scapegoat shifted from Valerie to me.

"It gets worse!" Warren continued. "The FBI and the SEC are already onto us. They're coming tomorrow to seize the accounts of the firm we just set up!"

"Boss, are we do we need to make a run for it?"

"Run from what?" I let out a dry laugh. "My funds are cleaner than holy water. Let them audit us. They won't find a single cent out of place."

The money came directly from my divorce settlement. The paper trail was crystal clear.

Buying the land was a standard commercial transaction, and I even paid well above market value. What could they possibly find?

"But the public backlash"

"Social media has a three-second memory. Ignore the trolls." I set my empty whiskey glass on the marble counter. "What you need to do right now is contact the largest construction firms in the state."

"Why do we need construction firms?" Warren sounded completely lost.

"The new tech hub needs to be built, right? They need contractors," I said, stating the obvious. "We sell the land to the state, then win the construction bids."

"We make a killing on both ends. That's just good business."

Dead silence met me on the other end.

Only a heavy, stuttering exhale came through the speaker. We were staring down the barrel of a federal crisis, and I had just spun it into a massive business opportunity.

I hung up and opened Twitter. Sitting right at the number one spot on the US trending list was a glaring hashtag.

[ Easton Wall Street Insider Trading ]

I tapped on it. The comment section was flooded with death threats and personal attacks.

[ "I always knew this gold digger was a piece of trash!" ]

[ "Investigate him! He got a hundred-million-dollar divorce settlement and immediately bought the perfect plot of land. There is absolutely a dirty scheme behind this!" ]

[ "Valerie must have been blind to ever marry a guy like this." ]

Among them, a major financial influencer going by the name "Wall Street Whistleblower Conrad" was pushing the narrative the hardest.

He posted various so-called leaked documents and confidently analyzed how I was definitely operating a massive offshore money-laundering syndicate.

I didn't even need to guess. The man behind that account was Conrad.

I read through his posts with pure amusement. I even dropped a like on his main thread.

Right at that moment, my phone rang again. It was Valerie.

Chapter 7

This time, her breathing was jagged, the words squeezed through tightly clenched teeth. "Easton, what exactly are you trying to do?"

"Watching the news," I answered, casually scrolling through the feed.

"Do you have any idea how much our corporate stock has plummeted because of you? Do you realize you've become the laughingstock of the entire business world?"

"Oh." I let out a lazy yawn. "And? Valerie, we're divorced. Whether your stock tanks or not is none of my damn business."

"As for being a joke, we'll see who gets the last laugh."

"You you're unreasonable!" Valerie's voice snagged on a sharp inhale. "I'm telling you right now, I've already ordered the legal department to sever all our assets and completely cut ties with you!"

"Great, please hurry up," I urged. If anything, her drama was interrupting my billionaire lifestyle.

My bulletproof attitude must have driven Valerie crazy. She slammed the phone down.

I tossed my device onto the marble counter. Just as I was about to head for a hot bath, it rang again.

It was Juliet.

I answered. Her voice was hushed, the syllables trembling slightly. "Easton, are you are you okay? I saw the news online."

"I'm perfectly fine." I smiled, my mood inexplicably lifting.

"Don't be scared," her voice was soft but incredibly firm. "I believe you. If if you need a lawyer, my dad knows the best defense attorneys in the country!"

At that moment, I had to admit, this silly girl's blind trust actually struck a chord in my chest.

Sometimes, the hollow praise of thousands couldn't compare to a single, unconditional "I believe you" whispered in the dark.

The next day, I slept until I naturally woke up. I pulled back the heavy curtains. The California sun was perfect.

Warren called right on schedule. His voice buzzed with the raw adrenaline of a survivor. "Boss! You are a literal god!"

"The FBI agents came and went. They turned our books completely upside down and found absolutely nothing! They even issued a public statement saying our transaction was entirely legal and compliant!"

"Expected." I stifled a yawn.

"And! Those construction firms you had me contact are all fighting to work with us!"

"The state government also sent word that they are more than happy to negotiate the upcoming development contracts with us!"

"Yeah, handle it yourself." I lost interest. "Stop delaying my breakfast."

"Yes, sir! On it!"

I hung up and stared at the lavish spread my Michelin-starred chef had laid out on the dining table: truffle scrambled eggs, smoked salmon bagels, and freshly ground Blue Mountain coffee.

Life really should be this simple and unpretentious.

The narrative online had completely flipped overnight.

[ Easton The Billionaire's Perfect Counterattack ]

[ FBI Official Clearance ]

Both hashtags instantly skyrocketed to the top of Twitter's global trends. The same netizens who were ready to burn me at the stake yesterday spun around, pouring out their sympathy for the poor victim of cyberbullying.

[ "I knew it! Someone that hot could never be a criminal!" ]

[ "His ex-wife started buying fake news to smear him right after the divorce. What an absolute toxic viper!" ]

[ "Oh my god, he's so gorgeous and got dumped by a trash woman. I volunteer as tribute to be his next wife!" ]

Meanwhile, "Wall Street Whistleblower Conrad"who had been jumping around so desperately just yesterdayhad deleted all his tweets and vanished completely, playing dead.

I scrolled through the comments, laughing to myself.

Right then, another call came in. It was Valerie.

I hesitated for a second, then swiped to answer.

Chapter 8