Broken Vows, Billion-Dollar Ruin

Brandon Hayes slammed a hundred-million-dollar check right across my face. For the twenty-eighth time, he was demanding a divorce—all to give his precious mistress a legal title. "Serena, a hundred million in cash is enough for you to live in luxury for ten lifetimes." "Chloe is pregnant. I will not allow my firstborn child to enter this world as a bastard." Disgust dripped from Brandon’s eyes, his tone laced with venomous impatience. "Don't be ungrateful." I looked at this man—the very man I had spent eight agonizing years building up from literal dirt into a corporate CEO—and I smiled. "Brandon, my answer remains the same." "You want a divorce? Over my dead body." He flew into a murderous rage, screaming that I was an insatiable, greedy lunatic. What he didn't know was this: my refusal to sign had nothing to do with wanting him back. "Serena, Brandon just arrived with that woman." My assistant, Lynne, pushed open the VIP lounge door, her voice trembling with righteous fury. "Tonight is Ascend Group's eighth-anniversary gala!" "And he actually brought Chloe as his official date!" "The media outside is going wild with photos!" My hand holding the coffee cup paused for just a fraction of a second. The dark liquid rippled. "Let him." My voice was so calm it surprised even myself. "Serena!" "You're the co-founder of Ascend Group!" Lynne stomped her foot in sheer desperation. "You were the one who sold your late parents' estate to give him his initial seed capital!" "Now that the company is about to go public on the stock market, he wants to kick you to the curb?" "How can he get away with this?!" I didn't answer. I just turned to gaze out the floor-to-ceiling window. The grand ballroom was bathed in dazzling chandeliers. Brandon stood there in a bespoke tuxedo, looking like a triumphant king at the peak of his life. Clinging tightly to his arm was Chloe Davenport, looking frail and delicate. She was wearing the one-of-a-kind designer gown that was originally tailored for me. She smiled sweetly, preening like a proud peacock. Around them hovered a sea of groveling investors and executives. Not a single soul remembered eight years ago today. Back then, Brandon was just a broke boy who couldn't even make rent. I was the one who sat in a moldy basement eating instant noodles beside him. Line by line, code by code, I built the foundation of Ascend Group with my own bare hands. BAM! The lounge door was kicked open violently. Brandon walked in, his face set like stone. Chloe remained glued to his side, clinging like a leech. "Serena, why the hell are you playing dead in here?" The moment Brandon opened his mouth, his raw contempt filled the room. "Did you sign the equity transfer agreement I ordered you to sign, or not?" I set my coffee cup down and looked at him coldly. "No." Brandon's expression darkened instantly. He stormed over, towering over me and jabbing a finger inches from my nose. "Serena, how much longer are you going to throw this tantrum?" "I already announced it to the press outside." "Chloe is the only true love of my life." "If you have any shred of dignity left, sign the papers, take the cash, and get the hell out!" "Don't drag this out and embarrass us all!" Looking at his familiar face, I felt only a chilling sense of alienation. Years ago, when he got down on his knees before my dying parents, swearing he would protect and cherish me forever—he had worn that exact same self-righteous expression. "Brandon," I said, my voice dangerously soft. "I am your legal wife." "Half of this corporate empire was conquered by me." "Who the hell are you to tell me to get out?" Hearing that, Chloe’s eyes welled with tears on cue. She shrank into Brandon’s chest, her voice sickeningly sweet and helpless. "Brandon... is Serena still mad at me?" "I know I shouldn't be here." "It's just..." "Our baby missed his daddy so much." As she spoke, she made a show of stroking her completely flat belly. At the mention of the baby, the disgust on Brandon's face instantly dissolved into boundless adoration. He wrapped his arm around Chloe’s waist, cooing softly. "Hush, Chloe." "This isn't your fault." "She’s just biting the hand that feeds her." He snapped his head back toward me, his glare sharp as a poisoned blade. "Serena, do you see this?" "Chloe is carrying my flesh and blood!" "I will never allow my heir to bear the stigma of being born a bastard!" "This is my final offer: one hundred million dollars, plus the luxury penthouse downtown!" "If you dare stall any longer, I have a thousand ways to strip you bare and leave you with nothing!" Listening to his delusional arrogance, a laugh burst from my lips. "What the hell are you laughing at?!" Brandon snarled, infuriated. "I'm laughing at how pathetic you are." I rose to my feet, locking my eyes straight onto his. "A hundred million?" "Brandon, do you think I'm a beggar on the street?" "Ascend Group is currently valued at over a billion dollars." "My shares alone are worth over five hundred million." "You want to buy out half my life and my entire company for a mere hundred million?" "Keep dreaming in your pathetic fantasy world!" "You—!" Rage consumed Brandon. His hand flew through the air. SLAP! A crisp, brutal strike landed squarely on my face.A stinging heat exploded across my cheek. The taste of metallic blood seeped from the corner of my mouth. "Serena!" Lynne gasped in horror and rushed forward to shield me. Brandon shoved her violently aside. "Get out!" "You're just a hired dog, you don't speak here!" he bellowed. Lynne gritted her teeth, refusing to budge. I held up a hand, motioning to her gently. "Lynne, step outside for a moment." With tears in her eyes and a murderous glare aimed at Brandon, Lynne reluctantly stepped out and shut the door. Only the three of us remained in the room. Tucked safely behind Brandon, Chloe let a smug, cold smirk slip onto her lips. "Serena, Brandon is only doing what's best for you." "You're a broken, barren woman who can't even give him a child." "What's the point of clinging to the title of Mrs. Hayes?" "Take the money. Go abroad. Maybe find a specialist to fix your dried-up womb." "Who knows? Maybe a miracle will happen in your old age." My gaze snapped to Chloe, pinning her like an executioner's target. Three years ago, I was pregnant. I drank myself into a gastric hemorrhage at a dinner banquet while securing a vital funding round for Brandon's fledgling company. I lost the baby on the operating table. After that nightmare, doctors told me I would likely never conceive again. That trauma was the deepest, most agonizing scar of my entire existence. And now, they wielded it like a dagger to butcher my dignity. "Chloe Davenport." I stepped toward her, step by deliberate step. My eyes were as cold as a morgue. "Say that again." Intimidated by the sheer venom in my demeanor, Chloe took a startled step back. "Brandon... look at her..." Brandon instantly stepped in front of her, puffing his chest out like a territorial beast. "Serena! If you lay a single finger on her, I swear to God I'll ruin you!" "I'm warning you." "If you don't sign today, I'll call an emergency board meeting tomorrow morning to strip you of your title and terminate your position!" "I will make sure you have no place left in this company!" Looking at Brandon’s face, contorted with petty fury, I suddenly felt completely drained of emotion. It wasn't even anger anymore. Just absolute detachment. Eight years of youth, sacrifice, and devotion—all wasted on an ungrateful stray. "Go ahead," I said, wiping the smear of blood from my lip with the back of my hand. "Call the board. Try it." "Let's see if the board answers to you... or to me." Without giving either of them another glance, I turned on my heel and walked out. As the heavy door swung shut behind me, the sound of glass shattering echoed from inside. Followed by Brandon’s hysterical roar: "Bitch! You’ll regret this!" A cold smile tugged at my lips. I took out my phone and dialed Marcus Reed, our Chief Financial Officer. "Hello, Serena." "Marcus, those personal unlimited liability guarantee forms I asked you to draft..." "How are they coming along?" On the other end of the line, Marcus lowered his voice to a whisper. "Everything is set, Serena." "I slipped them into the massive stack of bridge loan documents needed for the upcoming IPO." "The moment Brandon signs them, every single hidden debt of the company transfers completely under his personal name." "And it carries unlimited personal liability." "Even if he liquidates every single asset he owns down to his underwear, he will never pay it off in this lifetime." My lips curled into a razor-sharp smirk. "Perfect." "Bring them to him first thing tomorrow morning." "Tell him they are urgent fund-verification papers needed to finalize the acquisition of Horizon Tech." "Right now, his skull is packed with visions of ringing the stock exchange bell and playing house with Chloe." "He won't read a single line of fine print." "Understood, Serena." Hanging up, I peered down through the corridor window at the glittering, champagne-soaked banquet hall. Brandon Hayes, you want Ascend Group? You want your picture-perfect happily-ever-after with your gold-digging mistress? Fine. I will give you everything. I'll hand you the company—along with its three-hundred-million-dollar financial abyss. Consider it my ultimate wedding gift.It was 11:00 PM when I dragged my exhausted body back to the private estate Brandon and I shared. The moment I pushed open the front door, shrill laughter grated on my ears from the living room. "Oh, Chloe, darling!" "You're carrying the Hayes family's precious heir in that tummy of yours!" "Drink up this bird's nest soup. Keep yourself nourished." "You're a hundred times better than that useless Serena." "A barren hen that can't even lay an egg!" Frowning, I slipped off my heels and stepped into the living room. Lounging on the Italian leather sofa was Brandon’s mother, Martha Hayes. She was clutching Chloe’s hand, grinning from ear to ear. The marble coffee table was covered in expensive supplements. Worse, dozens of my designer handbags, skincare products, and jewelry boxes had been ripped out of my closet and tossed carelessly across the hardwood floor. Brandon sat beside them, lovingly peeling an apple for Chloe. The second they heard my footsteps, all three froze. Martha's face curdled instantly into sheer malice. "You still have the nerve to show your face here?" She sprang up from the sofa, pointing an accusatory finger at me. "You shameless parasite!" "My son offered you a hundred million dollars! Why haven't you signed the divorce papers?" "Are you trying to cling to our family and steal our wealth?!" I looked at the wreckage of my personal belongings scattered across the floor. A cold fury ignited in my chest. "This is my home," I said, my tone glacial. "Why wouldn't I come back?" "Your home?" Martha laughed as if she had just heard the joke of the century. "My son bought this mansion! His name is on the deed!" "What the hell does this place have to do with you?" "Pack your trash and get out!" "Clear out the master bedroom right now so Chloe can rest and nourish her pregnancy!" She lunged forward, hands outstretched to shove me. I simply stepped aside. Her hands grabbed empty air, momentum sending her stumbling violently forward. "Oh, my God!" "She's attacking me!" "The wicked daughter-in-law is beating an old woman!" Martha threw herself dramatically onto the floor, wailing and thrashing like a toddler having a tantrum. Seeing this, Brandon dropped his knife and apple. He charged forward, snatching the collar of my silk blouse. "Serena! Are you out of your mind?!" "You dare put your hands on my mother?!" "Do you want me to call the cops and have you thrown in jail?!" Looking into his furious, twisted face, I felt the sheer absurdity of it all. "Did you actually see me touch her?" "She tripped over her own two feet. Are you going to blame that on me too?" Chloe hurried over, playing the tender peacemaker. She gently helped Martha to her feet, her eyes glistening with fresh tears. "Serena, Martha is an elderly woman." "How could you treat her like this?" "If anyone is at fault, it's me." "Blame me, hate me, but please don't take your anger out on Brandon's poor mother!" She squeezed out two delicate teardrops. Her saintly act made my stomach churn with pure disgust. "Chloe, cut the pathetic soap opera." "If you want this house so badly, fine. Keep it. I'm leaving." I ripped Brandon's hand off my collar. I walked straight toward the display cabinet in the corner of the room. That cabinet held the only heirlooms my late parents had left behind for me: A pair of priceless 18th-century antique French crystal vases. Handed down from my great-grandfather. Even when Brandon and I were so broke we couldn't afford groceries, I had refused to sell them. I opened the cabinet door. It was completely empty. My entire body went rigid. I snapped my head around, glaring at them. "Where are my vases?"Martha rolled her eyes, scoffing with utter indifference. "What, those dusty pieces of junk?" "They looked ugly and brought bad luck into the house." "Chloe said she's pregnant and shouldn't be looking at old, dead things." "So I had the maid toss them into the dumpster in the backyard." CRACK. My mind went completely blank. Those were the last physical memories of my parents on this earth! I sprinted toward the backyard like a madwoman. There, inside the foul-smelling garbage bin, lay the shattered remnants of the antique crystal vases. Broken into thousands of jagged, unfixable shards. The sharp edges tore at my eyes. And in that instant, every lingering ember of humanity I felt for Brandon Hayes was extinguished forever. I dropped to my knees, frantically scooping up the jagged pieces with my bare hands. The sharp glass sliced deep into my palms. Blood dripped onto the broken crystal, vivid and gruesome. "Serena, what the hell is wrong with you?" Brandon strolled out behind me. Seeing me kneeling in the dirt, he scowled with deep annoyance. "They're just two stupid vases!" "I'll buy you ten brand-new designer ones tomorrow!" "Do you really have to act like a deranged lunatic out here?" I slowly lifted my head. Looking at the man I had loved for eight years, I finally realized how blind I had been. "Stupid vases?" My teeth gritted so hard they nearly cracked. "Brandon, those were my mother’s dying gift to me!" "When you begged me on your knees to sell my family home to fund your startup, what did you promise me?" "You swore on your life you would treasure them like sacred family heirlooms!" "And now?" "You threw them into the trash for a mistress!" "Shut your damn mouth!" Brandon snapped as if burned by the truth. He rushed forward and kicked the metal garbage bin over with a deafening crash. "Serena, don't test my patience!" "How many times are you going to bring up the past?" "Yes, I owed you back then, but aren't I compensating you with real cash right now?!" "Is a hundred million not enough to buy your two pieces of broken glass?!" "I'm telling you right now: you move out tonight!" "There is no room for you in this family anymore!" He turned around, grabbing Chloe’s hand to walk away. I surged up from the ground. From behind, I clamped my bloody hands around his collar. "Brandon Hayes, you put every single shard back together today, or none of you are walking out of here alive!" I held on like a ghost demanding retribution, refusing to let go. Brandon struggled violently to break free. "Let go of me! You crazy bitch!" Amid the scuffle, Chloe suddenly let out a theatrical shriek. "Brandon, my stomach...!" "Oh God, my stomach hurts so much!" She clutched her abdomen and dropped gracefully to the grass. Brandon’s face turned white with terror. He spun around and shoved me with every ounce of his strength. "Get the hell away from us!" Caught completely off guard, my balance vanished. I fell backward. Directly behind me was the steep, unlit concrete stairway leading down to the basement storage cellar. In that split second of weightlessness, I saw a flicker of panic flash through Brandon's eyes. Just for a microsecond. The very next moment, he didn't even look back. He scooped Chloe into his arms. "Chloe! Hold on, baby! I'm taking you to the hospital right now!" I tumbled down the concrete steps like a broken ragdoll. Blinding, searing pain shattered through my bones. My forehead slammed hard against the unforgiving stone floor. Warm blood washed over my vision, painting the world a crimson blur. Before the darkness dragged me under, I heard the roar of his luxury sports car tearing out of the driveway. Brandon Hayes had sped off with his mistress. Leaving me behind to bleed out alone in the freezing, pitch-black cellar. Good. Brandon. This was the debt you owed me. This fall severed every last bond of our marriage. And it slammed shut the very last door to your survival.