I Revoked My Ex's Windfall

I spent three years tiptoeing around Keaton’s fragile ego, bending myself backward into smaller, dimmer shapes just so he wouldn’t feel overshadowed. To protect his paper-thin pride, I hid the fact that I was the sole heiress to the Hart empire—the largest private real estate conglomerate in the country.

One year into our marriage, he dropped a thick stack of papers on the dining table.

"Sign it," he said, not even looking at me. "We’re getting a divorce."

A cold ache blossomed behind my ribs. "Why, Keaton? What happened to the vows you swore when you slipped that ring onto my finger?"