Dead Man's Fortune

To get me to agree to a divorce, my husband offered me his entire multi-million dollar fortune. If I was willing to take our kid, he'd throw in the mansion with the pool and the sports cars, leaving with nothing but that beat-up, used Chevy pickup truck.

I looked around the meticulously landscaped garden of our estate. Then at my nine-year-old prodigy of a son, who was already teaching himself AP Calculus and programming.

A fine tremor wracked my body.

For the past ten years, I treated this marriage like a lifelong career, pouring everything into it, only to end up with a bitter, broken partnership. Now, the ultimate jackpot had finally dropped right into my lap.

Chapter 1

No woman willingly steps aside for her husband and his mistress. Unless her husband has concrete for brains and is willing to walk away from a massive fortune, leaving empty-handed for the sake of "true love."

I never dreamed Spencer would play such a massive, reckless hand. It was an offer that made me want to say yes instantly, offer my tearful blessings, and weld him and his little sidepiece together permanently.

This was the eighth time Spencer had asked for a divorce for his precious first love, Lexi. I had perfected my response over time.

He talked. I listened. No facial expressions. No response whatsoever.

My sustained silence slowly drove him over the edge.

Finally, the polished facade cracked, leaving only a hysterical mess. "Naomi, do you really think dragging this out is going to change my mind? My love for Lexi isn't as fragile and narrow-minded as you think."

"It can stand the test of time! Even if you drag this out for another three or five years, we are never breaking up. Do you understand?"

Of course, I didn't understand. If their love was so indestructible, why did they break up ten years ago the second his startup tanked?

Back then, bankrupt and brutally dumped, Spencer was a wreck. I was the one who pulled him out of the mud. At our wedding, with tears in his eyes, he kissed my hand and called me the light of his life. Who would have thought this was where we'd end up a decade later?

The more unhinged he became, the calmer I remained. True disappointment is never loud. Taking advantage of the momentary lull in his rant, I organized our son's application materials for his Ivy League prep school.

My son shot a glance at his hysterical father in the doorway and said coldly, "If you could manage to keep your mouth shut for another five minutes, I could finish my code for the Harvard summer camp."

Spencer snapped. "One old lunatic, one little lunatic! I've had enough of you both!"

"You won't divorce me because of the money, right? Fine, take it! As long as you agree to the divorce, the entire estate is yours!"

My son gave him a solemn look. Compared to the way he'd just looked at him like a squashed roach, this glance actually held a sliver of respect.

Spencer pointed a shaking finger at our son. "If you take him and get out after the divorce, you can have the mansion and the cars, too. I'll walk away with absolutely nothing but that piece of trash Chevy pickup!"

Listening to his screaming, I pressed my fingertips hard against my palms, keeping my posture rigid. My facial muscles spasmed, threatening to break my absolute composure.

For ten years, I treated this marriage as my ultimate career, only to harvest a toxic partnership. Karma was a beautiful thing.

Today, the ultimate jackpot had finally landed right in my hands.

Chapter 2

I didn't waste a single second. I dragged Spencer straight to my private attorney's office to sign a legally binding division of assets and divorce agreement. I practically shoved the pen into his hand. I was terrified he would suddenly back out.

After years of his empty promises and flip-flopping, my trust in him had long since shattered into dust. The good news was, he stayed dead-set on his decision the entire time, dividing the assets exactly as he promised.

It was obvious his desperation to divorce me had hit its peak. After all, Lexi's baby bump was getting bigger by the day. He couldn't afford to wait.

The bad news was, we still had to wait for the judge's final sign-off before the agreement went into full effect. If he changed his mind before the gavel banged, we'd be right back to square one. All this effort, down the drain.

So, holding that signed agreement, my eyes stung with tears of pure joy, but my face was twisted into a tight knot of anxiety.

Spencer caught my expression and completely misread it, thinking I was on the verge of collapsing from a broken heart. Disgust curled his lip. "Don't pull any stunts while we wait for the judge's approval. Don't even think about backing out."

I wanted to swear on his pathetic life. As God is my witness. Between Spencer and me, whoever backed out of this divorce first was the ultimate loser.

With the paperwork handled, Spencer stayed true to his word. He shoved his clothes into cardboard boxes and chucked them into the back of that beat-up used Chevy pickup. That piece of junk was originally just used for hauling giant bags of dog food for our Labrador and carting away old trash.

Watching Spencer's skinny silhouette storming off so pitifully, a tiny sliver of practicality kicked in. I tossed him the keys to his Porsche. "Just drive this until the divorce is finalized I doubt Thomas wants to ruin the leather in the Porsche hauling fertilizer and dog food."

Spencer rolled his eyes at me. "Playing the caring wife at this point? Are you seriously still delusional enough to think you can salvage this?"

Salvage this?

Hell no.

I was just terrified that if he rolled up to Lexi's place in that rusted-out Chevy, she'd kick his broke ass right to the curb. He might not know Lexi's true colors, but I absolutely did.

We still had weeks before the judge signed off. Those two needed to stay happily in love. I couldn't afford for their little romance to derail right now.

The second Spencer moved his boxes out, I took my son straight to the most exclusive, high-end steakhouse in the city. I raised my champagne flute. My son raised his juice glass. We clinked them together, toasting to our brand-new life.

My son rarely showed much emotionsometimes he acted more like my father than my nine-year-old. But today, for the first time ever, he actually loosened up and joined in the celebration.

As the champagne buzzed in my veins, the memory of the last ten years hit meall that wasted effort. A surge of bitter resentment made tears prick the corners of my eyes. But then I remembered the multi-million dollar empire Spencer was leaving me, the mansion, the sports cars, and my genius kid. The tears evaporated before they even had a chance to fall.

My son went to the restroom. When he came back, he slid into the booth with a weirdly secretive look on his face. "Guess who I just saw over there," the little guy said, totally deadpan.

"Who?"

"Your husband's precious soulmate, Lexi. And she's sitting across from some really hot guy."

"A hot guy?"

Spencer's face immediately flashed through my mind, and I scoffed. No way Did they seriously pick the exact same restaurant to celebrate our divorce?

Chapter 3

A toxic couple like us, with the ink barely dry on our divorce papers, actually shared this kind of telepathic connection?

The little guy spoke up. "Yeah, he's hot." He paused, looking deadpan. "But he's not your husband."

I stiffened. I followed his gaze.

The woman sitting across the room had flawless, pale skin, her light brown beach waves bouncing with every movement. She had the innocent, doe-eyed look down to a science. Who else could it be but Lexi?

Sitting across from her was a stranger. Although his back was to me, his broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist were impossible to miss. Even through the fabric of his dress shirt, I could trace the sexy, defined lines of his back muscles.

He practically radiated pure Alpha male testosterone. He definitely wasn't a weak, spineless shrimp like Spencer.

Even though Lexi barely had a baby bump yet, my sources confirmed she was over three months pregnant. That fetus was the exact reason I could face Spencer's tantrums with absolute ice in my veins. But if she was knocked up, what the hell was she doing out on a date with another guy? Was she scared Spencer wouldn't actually go through with the divorce, so she was lining up a Plan B to slap a father's name on the birth certificate?

Right then, Lexi's phone buzzed. Her expression stiffened for a fraction of a second as she checked the screen. She snatched the device off the table and headed straight for the restroom.

The second she was out of sight, I casually strolled past their table, sneaking a glance at the guy.

One look, and internal alarms started blaring.

She actually bagged a certified ten. Sharp jawline, intense eyes under dark brows, bone structure carved by the godsthe kind of brooding hotness that made a woman want to fix him.

If she locked this guy down right now and tossed Spencer's toxic ass back to me like a hot potato, my entire plan was screwed. I had already popped the champagne!

I paced past the table again. Up and down. My glaringly obvious surveillance tactics finally caught his attention.

The hot guy locked his deep, dark eyes on mine. "If you want my number, just say so." He slid a sleek business card across the table. As I took it, his rough, warm fingertips dragged heavily and deliberately against the sensitive skin of my palm.

Back home, I sank into my couch, staring at the card in my hand, completely lost in thought. It had been over a decade since I tried to pick up a guy. I was rusty.

How the hell was I supposed to casually slide into his DMs and get him talking without blowing my cover? That was the million-dollar question.

"With a body like that, he practically lives in the gym," I muttered to the empty room. Hunting for an icebreaker, I pulled up YouTube and typed in 'men's core and chest workouts.' I ended up down a deep, distracting rabbit hole of shirtless fitness influencers.

I was completely zoned out until my phone rang. The caller ID flashed my best friend's name, Quinn, dragging me back to reality.

"Naomi! Major drama!" Quinn practically screamed into my ear. "Lexi and Spencer got into a massive, screaming match."

"Somehow, she lost the baby!"

"They just rushed her to the ER!"

The floor dropped out from under me.

That fetus was the absolute strongest chain linking those two disasters together. They could not break up right now. I paced the living room, yanking at my hair, completely losing my mind. I was panicking harder than Spencer probably was.

No. I had to do something. Until that trust fund and property deed officially cleared into my name, I was the absolute guardian angel of their twisted little love story.

I pulled up Spencer's contact and hit dial. It rang endlessly before he finally picked up. His voice sounded hollow and utterly exhausted. "What?"

"Do you know anything about organic post-miscarriage aftercare?" I blurted out.

Dead silence hummed through the speaker for a long moment.

"Naomi, are you seriously calling to rub this in my face?" The call ended with a sharp click.

I stared at the blank screen, totally baffled. Rub it in? I was literally just checking if he knew what to do. If he was clueless, I was fully prepared to step in and save his sinking ship.

Chapter 4

To show my absolute sincerity, I showed up at the hospital carrying a customized, high-end organic postpartum recovery meal. It was packed with gluten-free bone broth and ridiculously expensive imported supplements. I genuinely hoped Lexi would recover her health quickly so the two of them could pop out another precious heir ASAP.

Standing outside her private suite, the muffled sounds of a screaming match and hysterical sobbing bled through the heavy door.

"Why did you give her everything?! Am I just supposed to suffer and be broke with you?!" Lexi's voice cracked, echoing sharply down the hall.

"I only gave her the assets. She didn't want the company, so I still have it. As long as I'm here, the company is here. I made millions before, and I'll make millions again."

"But your company is already bleeding money!"

"Lexi, ten years ago you didn't believe I could bounce back. Are you seriously doubting me again?"

Judging by the sheer volume of her lungs, Lexi's vitality was recovering just fine. Her uterus would definitely bounce back for round two. A heavy breath of relief left my chest.

I pulled out my phone and texted Spencer:

[ I brought the organic recovery meals. Come out and get them. ]

Through the glass panel, I watched Spencer glance at his screen and immediately shove it back into his pocket without a flinch. After waiting a few minutes with no sign of him, I typed another message:

[ I can always just bring it inside. ]

The door swung open almost instantly.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he hissed, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek.

He was always like this, treating my genuine goodwill like absolute garbage. I shoved the insulated designer bag into his chest.

"Her body is exhausted, and her hormones are completely out of whack right now. She's obviously going to be unstable. You shouldn't be arguing with her."

I dusted off my hands. "Right now, she doesn't need your business logic. She needs you to actually give a damn about her feelings."

Spencer had been a husband for ten years, yet he still couldn't grasp this basic concept.

Nine years ago, shortly after I gave birth to our son, my father died suddenly from a rapid illness. During the darkest, most vulnerable time of my life, when I desperately needed a shoulder to lean on, Spencer was nowhere to be found. He had endless overtime, non-stop networking dinners, and a bottomless supply of lectures on how I needed to handle it better.

Whenever I broke down and actually asked for emotional support, he would just shoot me a freezing glare. "Naomi, be reasonable. Stop being so incredibly selfish."

I was the one who dragged myself out of that suffocating black hole, inch by painful inch, all while raising a newborn by myself. From start to finish, he never lifted a single finger to help.

Spencer stared at me. His Adam's apple bobbed heavily, and the stiff posture of his shoulders faltered. "I'm sorry, Naomi. Back then, I"

I cut him off, waving a hand dismissively. "Just go back inside. The gluten-free soup tastes like crap if it gets cold."

A delayed apology was cheaper than dirt. Spencer opened his mouth to say something else, but I beat him to the punch.

"Oh, by the way. If she doesn't believe in your company anymore, you should probably just liquidate it. With your Ivy League degree, you can easily go find a desk job on Wall Street."

"Hitting a seven-figure salary shouldn't be too hard, and the two of you could live a perfectly fine, average life out in the suburbs."

Right on cue, Spencer's spine snapped straight, instantly triggered. Over the past decade, even though he had raked in obscene amounts of cash, there was always a massive chip on his shoulder. Because he wasn't entirely self-made. His initial seed money came directly from my father.

Even his chosen industrycommercial real estatewas a path I, his finance-major wife, had spoon-fed him.

Now, despite his success, he was completely obsessed with one thing. Proving himself. Especially to Lexi.

The temperature around Spencer plummeted. "That is none of your damn business."

"How can I not make it my business?" I tilted my head, flashing a perfectly polite smile. "The company might be yours, but the actual corporate tower it operates in? That belongs to me now."

Spencer's jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth might shatter. "No matter how the company performs, I won't be shorting you a single cent on the lease!" He grabbed the designer bag like he wanted to strangle it and stormed back into the hospital room.

I let out a long, satisfied exhale. With that guarantee, I could finally sleep peacefully tonight.

Chapter 5

I was absolutely terrified. Terrified he would actually pack it in, go find some seven-figure corporate job, and live happily ever after in the suburbs with Lexi. Terrified that karma would skip his address, letting him coast through the rest of his life in peaceful bliss.

I wanted to watch his arrogance. I wanted to see him choke on his own ambition. To watch him go from divorced to bankrupt, step by agonizing step, tearing his own perfect life to shreds until he had absolutely no one left.

Spencer, you owe me for the last ten years. I was going to collect your entire future as payment. The only reason I was ever soft and easily manipulated was because I had actually handed you my real heart. Now that I've pulled the plug on those feelings, you're going to learn a very hard lessonplaying you is easier than training a dog.

To ensure my little "customer service" was effective, I lingered outside the door for another minute.

Inside the private suite, Lexi's voice drifted out. "Where did you go?"

Spencer replied, "I found an exclusive private chef to make you this organic recovery meal. Try it."

A moment later.

"It's good, but it's a little bland." Lexi's tone had completely leveled out.

"I'll tell the chef to add more salt next time."

"Okay."

I pulled out my phone and texted Spencer:

[ I purposely told them to hold the salt. She shouldn't have too much sodium right now. ]

Spencer texted back:

[ Drop dead. ]

Gladly. As long as you two crazy kids stay together.

I headed down the hall and hit the button for the elevator. On the ninth floor, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. That tall, untouchably gorgeous doctor in the white coat stepped in. The confined space was instantly filled with his faint, clean mint aftershave.

Sharp jawline, dark browsit was the guy from the steakhouse. Plan B?

Plan B glanced at me, his expression blank, and stepped inside.

He didn't recognize me