The Billionaire’s Dead Wife Returns

Olivia Thornton left the hospital with excitement, the test results carefully tucked in her purse. A smile tugged at her lips as she thought about how she would share the news with her husband, Booker Thornton. He had been away overseas for a business conference, but he was set to return tomorrow. The moment she stepped inside her car, her phone beeped. It was a message from an unknown number, and a frown formed on her face. She opened it immediately, and her eyes landed on the text displayed in bold uppercase letters that read, “YOU DESERVE TO KNOW.” Deserve to know what? Olivia mumbled as she scrolled down and saw three files attached to the anonymous message. She clicked on the first file. Her breath caught the moment the image appeared on the screen. The people in the image were none other than Booker Thornton and Marilyn Lawrence, the man she had built her whole life around and the friend she had trusted with her deepest secrets, lying together on her matrimonial bed in a way that left little room for misunderstanding. Olivia quickly closed the image. She couldn’t believe her eyes. With trembling fingers, she opened the second file. It was another photo of them. Marilyn and Booker, once again, in an intimate position, still in their home. What stood out most was the clothes Booker was wearing. She had personally packed those clothes for his trip. That could only mean the photo had been taken recently. Booker had already returned home without telling her. She opened the third file, and this time, it was the final blow. It was a pregnancy report bearing Marilyn’s name. According to the report, Marilyn was one month pregnant. Although the father’s name was not listed, Olivia had already connected the dots. There was no doubt the child was Booker’s. That couldn’t be possible. Booker might seem like he didn’t love me, but could this really be true? Marilyn was my friend, my best friend for that matter, so how could she…? Her thoughts spiraled. Marilyn had recently started working with Booker and was traveling with him on business trips. This time, they were supposed to be attending a conference in Ecuador. Were they really there for work, or had it all been a lie? Had they used the trip as a cover to be together while she remained completely in the dark? Olivia quickly took out another phone from her purse and dialed Booker’s number, but the call went straight to voicemail. She tried again and again, but he still didn’t answer. Then another message from the same unknown number popped up on her screen. “GO HOME. NOW” Olivia’s heart pounded, and her chest clenched in pain. It felt as though something inside her was breaking apart. After everything she had just seen, she could no longer convince herself it was all a mistake. If the photos were real, then there was only one way to know the truth. Without wasting another second, Olivia started the engine and hurried home. Moments ago, she had been eager to share wonderful news with her husband. Now, her heart felt crushed beyond repair. Her hand rested on the steering wheel, but her grip slowly tightened around it. Tears began sliding down her face as she pressed harder on the accelerator. Even if Olivia rushed home and saw it for herself, it would make no difference. In her mind, the truth was already clear. Booker did not love her. She had been the one to push for the marriage. Her parents and Booker’s parents had been old friends, and before her parents passed away, she had used that connection to persuade them to propose a union. All because she had been hopelessly in love with him, even though his father, Chester Thornton, the Chairman of the Thornton Empire, had never approved of their marriage. For three years of marriage, she had struggled to give him a child. She had visited doctors across the world, tried every remedy she could, desperate to conceive. Now, at last, she was pregnant. But instead of joy, she found herself betrayed. Her husband had turned to her best friend, had taken her into their marital bed, and worst of all, Marilyn was also carrying his child. Olivia could no longer hold back her tears as her heart grew heavier. Still, she drove on, barely noticing the world around her. She was only a few miles from home when the weather turned dark, but she did not care. She drove as fast as she could, barely paying attention to the road, the sight of Booker and Marilyn together replaying relentlessly in her mind. It explained everything. No wonder he agreed to work so closely with Marilyn, no wonder he had gone on trips with her, no wonder he had returned and had not bothered to tell her he was back. Marilyn, on the other hand, wore a cold smirk as she watched missed-call notifications from Olivia continue to light up Booker’s phone from where it rested on the conference table. As Booker’s business partner, Marilyn had accompanied him to the conference, and she knew he never took calls during important meetings. She was certain her plan was working. The truth was far darker. The photos Olivia had received from the anonymous sender were complete fabrications, the work of a skilled editor. Marilyn had used technology to manipulate photos of herself and Booker, placing them in intimate situations carefully designed to look real. She knew Olivia too well. She knew she would rush home to see things for herself. “Respect yourself. I am married to Olivia, and I will never betray her, nor will I divorce her.” Booker’s harsh rejection replayed in Marilyn’s memory, the words he had spoken when she confessed her feelings to him. Her chest burned with fury. With a low, bitter laugh, Marilyn excused herself from the meeting under the pretense of using the restroom. The moment she was out of earshot, she pulled out her phone and dialed the number of the hired killer she had paid to murder Olivia and make it look like a tragic accident. ******* Olivia drove on, her mind consumed by the images she had seen. The sky had grown dark and dreary, making it harder to see the road ahead. Soon, she reached a flyover not far from home. The approaching storm had emptied the road, leaving her alone. Then, out of the darkness ahead, a trailer roared down the flyover at full speed. Olivia, drowned in sorrow and pain, did not react in time. Bang! Having forgotten to fasten her seatbelt in her rush to get home, Olivia was thrown forward when the impact hurled her car toward the edge of the flyover. Her body slammed violently against the steering wheel as pain tore through her. Thick, hot blood spilled from a wound on her forehead, slipping into her eyes and blurring her vision. Through the haze, she saw a figure step out of the truck. He strode to her car, opened the driver’s side door, and leaned over her motionless body. Two fingers pressed beneath her nose as he checked whether she was still breathing. Finding her still alive, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Mr. Thornton, she is breathing. Do you want me to finish her?” he asked coldly. Mr. Thornton? Her husband’s name. Her heart clenched. The ache was sharper than the strike of the truck. The only Mr. Thornton she knew was Booker, the man she had loved her entire life. Had he truly gone this far to erase her? Was it only because she now knew about him and Marilyn? Or because he had hated her for forcing their marriage, and now saw a chance for revenge? Marilyn had been meticulous. Not only would Olivia die, but she would die convinced that Booker had orchestrated her murder. Every detail of the scheme had been carefully designed to point the blame in his direction. “Little woman, you should’ve stayed where you belonged. Blame the one who wants you dead, not the man sent to make it happen,” the driver sneered. Those were the last words Olivia heard before the driver sent the car over the edge of the flyover. It plunged into the darkness below and erupted into flames on impact.