The Billionaire's Secret Heir

ARIA I had been staring at my reflection for too long. The girl in the mirror looked hopeful. Too hopeful. I gently touched my lips to adjust the faint gloss, then smoothed out invisible creases from my dress. It was simple, soft cream—the kind Jake once said made me look “like peace.” My heart fluttered at the memory. It was 6:38 p.m. Jake should have been home by now. But today was his birthday. I told myself he was probably out celebrating with friends… surrounded by laughter, expensive drinks, business partners patting his back. His day would be loud, successful, and lively. And that made me smile. If he was happy, then I was happy. Tonight, I would complete that happiness. “Now it’s your turn, Aria,” I murmured, giving myself one last look before grabbing my bag and heading out. Traffic felt endless. Red lights blurred into streaks, headlights smeared across my vision as impatience gnawed at me. It was only an hour’s ride home, yet it felt like an entire day suspended in waiting. Three years. Three years of marriage without a single reason to doubt him. Jake had been my anchor, my strength. When exams overwhelmed me, he stayed up late encouraging me. When I feared we might never have our little light… our baby… he would hold me and promise, “One day, Aria. Just one day.” And I believed him. I had rented an apartment near campus for just a month to prepare for my exams. I hadn’t told him I’d return early today. I wanted to surprise him. I had called earlier and wished him happy birthday; he had casually asked when I’d finish my exams. I told him, but he had no idea I was already on my way home. Our home. The building came into view, and warmth filled my chest. That door held memories… lazy Sundays, wine glasses clinking, whispered gossip, soft laughter tangled in sheets. I stepped inside quietly. The chandelier lights bathed the living room in a golden glow. The television murmured in the background. A faint floral scent lingered in the air. And beneath it was Jake—his cologne. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, smiling. He was here. My heart fluttered with excitement as I moved further inside. I was so wrapped in the image of him lifting me into his arms, surprised and laughing, that I didn’t notice the bedroom door until it opened. My eyes flew open. Seeing a woman step out. She was wrapped in a short towel, her bare legs exposed, damp hair clinging to her shoulders. Water trailed slowly down her collarbone. She didn’t see me at first. She walked forward lazily, as if she belonged there, as if she owned the place. My breath caught in my throat. Before my mind could process what I was seeing, Jake’s voice drifted from the bedroom. “Baby, are you done? Come here… let’s go another round.” The words didn’t register at first; they hovered in the air long and unreal, then slowly sank in. Sharp, unforgiving. My heart slammed violently against my ribs. My vision blurred at the edges. I felt my knees weaken, but I couldn’t move. The woman laughed… low, teasing, and sultry as footsteps approached from behind her. And then he appeared. Jake stepped out of the bedroom, shirtless, relaxed, completely unaware of me. He reached her and smacked her playfully on the ass, winking in a way I knew too well. My stomach dropped. It felt like I was watching strangers wearing their faces. “Jake?” I finally found my voice, low and fragile, as if it barely existed. They both turned toward me. His arm was still securely wrapped around her waist. His fingers rested possessively on her hip. For a split second, surprise flickered across his face… calm and composed, then quickly was replaced by something I couldn't understand… irritation? “You,” he said flatly, as my presence seemed to inconvenience him. “What are you doing at home, Aria?” My name sounded strange on his lips. Aria, not baby, not love. Just Aria. I searched his face desperately for regret, panic, anything. There was nothing. Only distance. The woman’s lips curved into a slow, sharp smile as she looked me up and down. “Oh,” she said sweetly, “so she’s the one?” Confusion burned through my shock. “The one?” I repeated weakly. “Yes,” Jake replied without hesitation. He stepped away from her, leaving her leaning against the wall, smirking as he moved toward the bedroom. Moments later, he returned holding a large white envelope. Thick. Official. He stopped in front of me and held it out. "What… what are those?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, trembling. "Divorce papers." The word exploded inside my chest. My ears rang, my vision swayed. For a moment, I truly thought I might collapse. “W-what?” Tears filled my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Before I could gather myself, the woman stepped forward again, grabbing the envelope from his hands. “Let me,” she said smoothly, pressing it against my chest. “He never loved you. You were convenient. A stepping stone. Now that his father is gone, he has everything. The company. The control. He doesn’t need you anymore.” Each word stabbed deeper. “Today is the biggest day of his life,” she continued softly. “And you just happened to show up at the perfect time. Funny how heaven works, isn’t it? Clearing out the leeches.” Her smile sharpened. “So go on,” she whispered. “Sign it.” My fingers trembled against the envelope pressed to my chest. The paper felt heavier than it should have. As if it carried not just ink and signatures but the weight of three years, promises, and nights he held me close whispering about forever. I slowly lifted my eyes from the envelope to Jake. He stood a few feet away, arms crossed, watching me like I was an inconvenience delaying his schedule. “Jake…” My voice cracked. “Tell me she’s lying.” “She’s not,” Jake cut in sharply, his voice level and detached. “Everything she said is true.” Something inside me split open. I let out a small, broken laugh, shaking my head. “No… no, you don’t mean that. You’re upset I didn’t tell you I was coming home early, right? This is some kind of joke, Jake. A cruel one.” His jaw tightened. “I don’t joke about things like this.” The woman leaned back against the wall, arms crossed like a spectator enjoying the show. “You were useful,” Jake continued. “That’s all. My father insisted I settle down. Build a clean image. You were perfect for that. Simple, loyal, predictable.” Each word landed like a slap. “Useful?” I whispered. “You think investors trust a single man with a reckless lifestyle?” he went on. “I needed stability. A wife in school. Someone quiet. Someone who wouldn’t ask too many questions.” I felt my knees buckle slightly, but I forced myself to stand straight. “Three years…” I breathed. “Three years, Jake. Was any of it real?” “You’re being dramatic.” Dramatic. I stared at him, truly seeing him for the first time. The man I had loved. The man whose shirts I folded carefully. The man whose child I had prayed for. A stranger stood in his place. “What about the baby?” I asked softly. “All those times you said we’d have our little light one day… Was that rehearsed too?” He looked away this time. “That wasn’t going to happen anyway,” he muttered. The words sliced deeper than the rest. The woman pushed off the wall, stepping closer with mock sympathy. “You really thought he wanted a baby with you?” she laughed quietly. “He can’t afford weaknesses. And you, sweetheart? You’re nothing but one.” Tears finally spilled down my cheeks, hot and uncontrollable. But my voice somehow came out steady. “Fine. You want me to sign the divorce papers?” Yes. No apology. No sympathy. No guilt. I took up the pen and signed the papers. Each stroke felt like I was erasing myself. When I handed the papers back, my hands were numb. “This will be just the beginning, and I swear never to forgive you both, especially you, Jake. I hope she gives you the better life you deserve.” Without looking back, I stepped out of the house. Leaving everything that once belonged to me behind. I didn’t need it anymore. I had nothing to lose. And if worst comes to worst, I swore I would make Jake pay for what he did to me. That night I walked down the street bitterly, as if the world hadn’t finished punishing me yet. My phone rang beside the bag on my shoulders, but I ignored it and kept walking. I was too tired, too weak to answer. I didn’t even realize it was the twelfth time it rang, until a man yelled loudly at me: “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” I jerked out of my thoughts just in time to avoid colliding into him. My body felt delayed, like my soul hadn’t caught up with my steps. “I… I’m sorry,” I muttered, and then noticed the continuous phone call intrusions. Annoyed, I finally pulled it out of my bag and answered without checking the caller ID. “Perhaps now I see the reasons to fire you.”