The Genius Ex-Wife’s Revenge Portfolio novel Chapter 1

Ella Irvine found out her husband, David, was cheating on her.

He was seeing a college girl.

Today was David’s birthday. Ella had spent the whole afternoon making his favorite dishes, setting the table just so. Before he got home, David’s phone buzzed where he’d left it on the entryway shelf. Ella glanced over, not meaning to pry, but the screen lit up with a message.

[I hurt my knee picking up the cake... It hurts so much. *crying*]

There was a photo attached.

No face, just legs.

The girl wore white socks pulled high, black shoes, and a blue-and-white skirt that had ridden up, showing off long, toned legs—so skinny and perfect they looked almost unreal. Her knee was red where she’d bumped it. The flirty words and the bare skin in the photo made Ella’s stomach twist with a sick kind of dread.

People liked to say that successful men always had a type when it came to their affairs. This was it, apparently.

Ella’s hands shook as she gripped the phone, her knuckles turning white.

Another alert.

[David, see you at the Grandview Hotel tonight. Let’s celebrate your birthday. *wink*]

So that was it. On David’s birthday, his mistress was throwing him a party.

Ella grabbed her purse and left for the Grandview Hotel.

She needed to see for herself.

She needed to know who this girl was.

…

The hotel lobby was bright and busy, but Ella barely noticed. She was almost at the door when she saw her parents, Peter and Rachel, standing near the entrance. She stopped short, confused. “Dad? Mom? What are you doing here?”

Peter and Rachel looked startled. They exchanged a quick, uneasy glance before Peter spoke. “Ella, your sister’s back in town. We just brought her here.”

Jessa?

Ella paused, her breath catching.

Peter’s voice was sharper now. “Don’t act like we owe you anything. Everyone knew David and Jessa were perfect for each other. After his accident, when he was in that coma, we asked you to take her place and marry him.”

Rachel’s eyes swept over Ella, cold and critical. “Look at yourself. You’ve spent the last three years as a housewife, always circling around your husband. Jessa’s a prima ballerina now. What do you have to compete with her? Just give David back to Jessa.”

The words sliced right through her. Ella’s eyes burned as she turned away and walked out.

…

Back at the villa, the sun had set. Ella had given Marian, the housekeeper, the night off, so the place was empty and silent. No lights. No warmth.

Ella sat at the dining table in the dark, surrounded by the cold food she’d worked so hard to make. The cake she’d baked herself still sat in the center, “Happy Birthday, David” written in careful icing.

It looked ridiculous now. Everything did.

Just one more joke at her expense.