My Husband’s Pregnant Mistress Slapped Me at a Luxury Gala—He Said, “Touch Her and Our Marriage Is Over,” So I Hit Back, Sold the Company He Thought Was His, and Walked Into the Arms of His Billionaire Rival...

Rain had begun to fall over Fifth Avenue, slicking the pavement and reflecting the glowing neon lights of the city.

A sleek, midnight-black Maybach pulled up directly to the curb near the hotel’s private side exit. The rear door glided open automatically, revealing a dimly lit, immaculate leather interior.

Sitting in the backseat was a man holding a crystal glass of scotch.

Julian Vance.

At thirty-eight, Julian was the founder and majority shareholder of Vance Capital, a $12 billion global infrastructure titan. He was also Grant Mercer’s fiercest, most ruthless business rival—a man who had spent the last decade trying to swallow Mercer Dominion whole.

He looked up at me as I stepped out from beneath the awning. His sharp, angular face was illuminated by the city lights, his dark grey eyes assessing me with quiet admiration.

“You made quite an entrance,” Julian said, his deep voice smooth as velvet. “And an even better exit.”

I slid into the plush leather seat beside him. The door swung closed, shutting out the sound of the rain and the distant sirens.

“You bought the shares,” I said, looking at him directly.

Julian raised his glass slightly in a silent toast.

“$4.7 billion transferred directly into your offshore holding account three minutes ago,” he replied. “I’ve been waiting five years for you to realize Grant Mercer wasn't worthy of your genius, Evelyn.”

I leaned back against the headrest, feeling the exhaustion of the night finally creeping into my muscles.

“He thought he owned me,” I murmured.

“He’s an idiot,” Julian said simply. “He inherited a goldmine and treated the architect like hired help. Tomorrow morning at 8:00 a.m., I assume control of Mercer Dominion.”