Husband’s Mistress, Meet His Bankruptcy - Chapter 9: Chapter 9
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"All I know is her last name is Hawking. First name Eleanor."
"Hello? Uncle Rommell? Can you hear me?" 's voice cracked with panic as the line went dead, leaving only the mocking buzz of a busy signal.
A cold sweat broke across her forehead as her trembling fingers dialed a third number. "Dad! Something's happened—you need to come get me now!" Her voice shook like a leaf in a storm.
"I dug into that Eleanor Hawking woman—ran background checks, hired investigators. There's nothing! No records, no paper trail—it's like she doesn't exist!"
"You absolute moron! Get on your knees and apologize to her right now!" The phone practically vibrated with her father's roar, his voice carrying clear across the room despite the three-meter distance. "If she doesn't accept your apology, don't you dare come home!"
stared at her phone screen like it had grown teeth.
I cleared my throat—the sound of a guillotine dropping. "So, Miss King... figured it out yet? Know who I am now?"
Her head lifted in slow motion, her whole body trembling like a junkie in withdrawal. "M-Miss Hawking... I'm—I'm so sorry. I was wrong."
The room went dead silent. You could've heard a pin drop in Antarctica.
"No way... Even King can't touch her?"
"You all heard that call, right? She just got through to Los Angeles. We're screwed."
"Why did I ever get mixed up in this?"
The CEOs who'd been sneering at me minutes ago now looked like they'd seen a ghost. I let my gaze sweep across them like a searchlight. "Relax. I'll get to each of you. Miss King just won the lottery and got to go first."
My words detonated like a grenade. A few of the weaker-stomached executives looked ready to pass out.
Ten minutes ago, they'd seen me as just another pretty face riding the Woods family coattails. Now? I was the woman even the Kings of LA couldn't afford to cross.
And the prize for Most Regretful went to... my ex-husband James. The man stood frozen in the corner, his face whiter than hospital sheets. Before I could twist the knife, Benedict came barreling into the room, took one look at the situation, and practically tripped over himself rushing to me.
"Uncle Benedict," I said, stopping his bow mid-motion, "save your breath. I'm done with the Woods family."
The old man's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water before he redirected his fury. The crack of his palm against James' cheek echoed through the room, leaving five angry fingerprints.
"You stupid, ungrateful brat! What the hell did you do behind my back?" Benedict's voice shook with rage. "I spent years convincing Miss Hawking to marry into this family, and you threw it all away!"
James cradled his cheek like a wounded child. "Dad! Why would you—"
"Don't you dare play dumb with me!" Benedict's breath came in heavy gusts. "You think our family got this far because of me? Let me enlighten you, boy—without Miss Hawking, we'd have been bankrupt before your thirtieth birthday!"
The final piece clicked into place. Their precious trophy wife had been the engine keeping the Woods family machine running all along. Every eye in the room locked onto me, brimming with horrified realization.
I waved a hand like shooing flies. "Now that we're all caught up, let's not waste time. Effective immediately, the Woods family is removed from the Four Families alliance. Same goes for the rest of you—consider your business assets forfeit."
Then I turned to Benedict, who looked ready to collapse. "As for Miss King here? Tell the head of the King family to come collect her in person—in San Diego. And the apology better be sincere. Otherwise..." I let the threat hang in the air, my calm tone making it all the more terrifying. Not a single person dared to breathe too loud.
After cleaning house, I strolled over to James. "How's it feel? Knowing you single-handedly destroyed your family's empire?" His mouth worked soundlessly, but his eyes screamed everything—regret, horror, the dawning understanding that he'd lost the best thing he'd ever had.
Stepping outside, I hailed a cab to my usual chess spot. Before I'd even settled into my chair, the old man across from me leaned forward, eyes twinkling. "Well? Did you handle them?"
I flashed a shark's smile. "With you watching my back? Who'd be stupid enough to try me?"
He chuckled, setting up the board. "Good. Now that you're divorced, we can play every day."
I made my opening move with a quiet click. "Checkmate, Mr. Fennell."
(The End)
"Hello? Uncle Rommell? Can you hear me?" 's voice cracked with panic as the line went dead, leaving only the mocking buzz of a busy signal.
A cold sweat broke across her forehead as her trembling fingers dialed a third number. "Dad! Something's happened—you need to come get me now!" Her voice shook like a leaf in a storm.
"I dug into that Eleanor Hawking woman—ran background checks, hired investigators. There's nothing! No records, no paper trail—it's like she doesn't exist!"
"You absolute moron! Get on your knees and apologize to her right now!" The phone practically vibrated with her father's roar, his voice carrying clear across the room despite the three-meter distance. "If she doesn't accept your apology, don't you dare come home!"
stared at her phone screen like it had grown teeth.
I cleared my throat—the sound of a guillotine dropping. "So, Miss King... figured it out yet? Know who I am now?"
Her head lifted in slow motion, her whole body trembling like a junkie in withdrawal. "M-Miss Hawking... I'm—I'm so sorry. I was wrong."
The room went dead silent. You could've heard a pin drop in Antarctica.
"No way... Even King can't touch her?"
"You all heard that call, right? She just got through to Los Angeles. We're screwed."
"Why did I ever get mixed up in this?"
The CEOs who'd been sneering at me minutes ago now looked like they'd seen a ghost. I let my gaze sweep across them like a searchlight. "Relax. I'll get to each of you. Miss King just won the lottery and got to go first."
My words detonated like a grenade. A few of the weaker-stomached executives looked ready to pass out.
Ten minutes ago, they'd seen me as just another pretty face riding the Woods family coattails. Now? I was the woman even the Kings of LA couldn't afford to cross.
And the prize for Most Regretful went to... my ex-husband James. The man stood frozen in the corner, his face whiter than hospital sheets. Before I could twist the knife, Benedict came barreling into the room, took one look at the situation, and practically tripped over himself rushing to me.
"Uncle Benedict," I said, stopping his bow mid-motion, "save your breath. I'm done with the Woods family."
The old man's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water before he redirected his fury. The crack of his palm against James' cheek echoed through the room, leaving five angry fingerprints.
"You stupid, ungrateful brat! What the hell did you do behind my back?" Benedict's voice shook with rage. "I spent years convincing Miss Hawking to marry into this family, and you threw it all away!"
James cradled his cheek like a wounded child. "Dad! Why would you—"
"Don't you dare play dumb with me!" Benedict's breath came in heavy gusts. "You think our family got this far because of me? Let me enlighten you, boy—without Miss Hawking, we'd have been bankrupt before your thirtieth birthday!"
The final piece clicked into place. Their precious trophy wife had been the engine keeping the Woods family machine running all along. Every eye in the room locked onto me, brimming with horrified realization.
I waved a hand like shooing flies. "Now that we're all caught up, let's not waste time. Effective immediately, the Woods family is removed from the Four Families alliance. Same goes for the rest of you—consider your business assets forfeit."
Then I turned to Benedict, who looked ready to collapse. "As for Miss King here? Tell the head of the King family to come collect her in person—in San Diego. And the apology better be sincere. Otherwise..." I let the threat hang in the air, my calm tone making it all the more terrifying. Not a single person dared to breathe too loud.
After cleaning house, I strolled over to James. "How's it feel? Knowing you single-handedly destroyed your family's empire?" His mouth worked soundlessly, but his eyes screamed everything—regret, horror, the dawning understanding that he'd lost the best thing he'd ever had.
Stepping outside, I hailed a cab to my usual chess spot. Before I'd even settled into my chair, the old man across from me leaned forward, eyes twinkling. "Well? Did you handle them?"
I flashed a shark's smile. "With you watching my back? Who'd be stupid enough to try me?"
He chuckled, setting up the board. "Good. Now that you're divorced, we can play every day."
I made my opening move with a quiet click. "Checkmate, Mr. Fennell."
(The End)
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