I wanted to divorce my cheating husband, but the other woman’s husband showed up and offered me $100 million, saying, ‘Don’t divorce him, wait three more months.’
Chapter 1: The Collapse of an Illusion
The penthouse apartment on the 72nd floor of the Billionaires’ Row tower overlooked the glittering Central Park, but to me, Claire Sterling, it was like a marble tomb.
On the ebony dining table lay photographs taken by a private investigator of my husband – Julian Sterling, a rising star in the hedge fund world – embracing another woman in a Hamptons mansion. That woman was Isabella Vance, wife of global logistics tycoon Arthur Vance.
I sat there, the divorce papers already prepared. Julian had not only betrayed our 10 years together; he was also secretly transferring our shared assets to offshore accounts in preparation for a perfect escape.
The doorbell rang at 11 p.m. I expected Julian, but the person standing there was a tall, silver-haired man who exuded a suffocating aura. That was Arthur Vance.
“Hello, Mrs. Sterling. I believe we share a common problem,” Arthur said, his voice low and icy.
Chapter 2: The $100 Million Offer
Arthur entered the house without waiting to be invited. He placed a tablet on the table. On the screen was a Swiss bank account balance: $100,000,000.
I was stunned. “Are you trying to buy my silence for your wife?”
Arthur smirked, a bitter smile. “On the contrary. I want you to keep quiet about the divorce. At least for the next three months. Don’t sign the papers, don’t make a fuss in the press. Continue to play the role of Julian Sterling’s happy wife at every social event.”
“Why should I?” I snarled. “He’s deceiving me!”
“Because if you divorce now, you’ll only get half the mess Julian left behind. But if you wait 90 days,” Arthur pushed the tablet towards me, “this $100 million will be yours immediately as a down payment. And after 90 days, you’ll have Julian’s entire empire without paying a single cent in taxes.”
I looked into the eyes of the most powerful man in New York. “Your wife and my husband… what are you plotting?”
“They think they’re playing a game of love and money,” Arthur casually poured himself a glass of whiskey from my bar. “But they don’t know that you and I are the ones holding the keys to the casino. In three months, Julian will execute a massive merger between his fund and my company. That’s when he intends to swallow me whole. But in reality, that’s when I’ll wipe him out. I need him to feel secure. And his security lies in your presence.”
Chapter 3: The 90-Day Psychological Game
I accepted. $100 million was transferred into an anonymous trust in my name the very next morning.
The next three months were a series of the most disgusting parties of my life. I had to smile, link arms with Julian at the Met Gala, let him kiss me on the cheek in front of the cameras, knowing full well that he would text Isabella immediately afterward.
Julian became arrogant. He believed my silence was stupidity. “Honey, the merger with the Vances will take us to the top of the world,” he said at a dinner, his eyes gleaming with greed.
Meanwhile, I met Arthur secretly once a week. We didn’t just exchange information. Arthur taught me how to read the hidden financial reports, how to detect the illicit money Julian was hiding. I realized Arthur didn’t just want to punish his wife; he was turning me into a real “wolf.”
By day 80, Julian’s demeanor had suddenly changed. He began to suspect something. He hired someone to follow me. “Claire, where have you been going on Wednesday afternoons lately?” he asked, his eyes filled with suspicion as I returned from Arthur’s office.
“I’ve been to therapy, Julian. Do you think I haven’t been hurt by the rumors about you?” I replied, my eyes unblinking. He believed me. His pride was his fatal weakness.
Chapter 4: The Climax – The Ghost Party
Day 90. The merger signing ceremony took place in the grand ballroom of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. Julian Sterling and Isabella Vance stood side by side, radiant. Julian was about to sign the contract that would make him the principal shareholder of the Vance Group.
Arthur Vance stood on the platform, smiling. I stood in the front row, wearing a black dress that was both mournful and utterly elegant.
“Before we sign,” Arthur said into the microphone, his voice echoing throughout the auditorium, “I have a small gift for my partner, Julian Sterling.”
The large screen behind the stage lit up. It wasn’t a growth chart. It was footage of Julian and Isabella discussing how they would poison Arthur after taking over the company, and how Julian planned to make Claire a scapegoat for his financial misdeeds.
A murmur erupted like thunder. Julian’s face turned pale, his expensive fountain pen slipping from his hand. Isabella tried to flee, but security blocked the door.
“And one more thing,” Arthur continued, his gaze fixed on me. “This merger actually happened last night. But not with Julian Sterling. It’s with Sterling Global, a new entity that your wife, Clai, owns.”
“Regarding Sterling, he is the 100% owner.”
Chapter 5: The Ultimate Twist – The True Predator
Julian turned to me, yelling, “Claire! What have you done? Where did you get the money to buy my shares?”
I stood up, walked onto the stage, my Manolo Blahnik heels clicking sharply on the wooden floor.
“Arthur’s $100 million is a good start, Julian,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “But those offshore accounts you thought were your secret… I used the access code Isabella gave me to take control of them a month ago.”
Julian froze. “Isabella gave them to you? She loves me!”
Isabella, now under police arrest, looked at Julian with contempt. “Love you? I needed a scapegoat to take the blame for the Vance family’s losses that I caused.” Arthur and Claire offered me a way out: I’d give them his evidence, and they’d let me go under a new identity.
Arthur Vance walked up to me, a knowing smile on his face. But this time, I was the one delivering the final blow.
“Arthur, you’re mistaken,” I said, turning to the billionaire. “You think you used me to destroy Julian and save your company? You think $100 million is the price to pay for me to be your pawn?”
I handed Arthur another piece of paper.
“This is your suspension order from the Vance Corporation. During our ‘collaboration,’ I found evidence of your tax evasion and bribery of officials from 20 years ago. I submitted it to the FBI this morning. I am now the largest shareholder in both companies.” “He and his wife, Julian and Isabella… all of you will be in the same section of federal prison.”
Arthur looked at me, his astonishment turning into belated respect. “You… you learn so quickly, Claire.”
“I didn’t learn from you, Arthur,” I said, looking into the cameras of the live broadcasts. “I learned from your betrayal.” They taught me that on this chessboard, whoever waits the longest wins.
The ending: The next morning, New York woke up to a new queen. Julian and Arthur Vance had both vanished from the business world. I sat in my office at the top of the tower, no longer the poor “Mrs. Sterling.”
Ninety days ago, I only wanted a divorce. Ninety days later, I owned the entire city.
That $100 million is still in my account, but it’s just pocket change compared to what I’ve just won. Because in the world of wolves, the woman who is most hurt is the most fearsome hunter.
The December blizzard lashed against the windows of L’Orangerie, one of Manhattan’s most luxurious dining establishments. Inside, the fireplace blazed, red wine swirled in crystal glasses. Outside, the sub-zero temperatures bit cold.
Arthur Sterling, 58, a former real estate mogul, sat in his expensive electric wheelchair at a private table by the window. Five years ago, a mysterious car accident had robbed him of his ability to walk, transforming a proud lion into a crippled, bitter old man. He hated pity, hated his useless legs, and hated the world.
He was about to take a bite of his Kobe beef steak when a gentle tap on the window made him stop.
Beyond the thick glass, a thin, grimy little girl stood huddled in an oversized, tattered coat. Most horrifying of all were her bare feet, turning purple against the white snow.
The little girl stared intently at Arthur’s plate of meat. Not with a pleading look, but with an unwavering hunger.
Arthur, notoriously cruel, was about to signal the manager to dismiss her. But something in the girl’s bright blue eyes made him hesitate. He gestured for the side door to open.
A blast of cold air rushed in. The girl approached, unafraid.
“What do you want?” Arthur growled. “Money?”
She shook her head, her teeth chattering. She pointed to the leftover meat on the table.
“Give me something to eat, and I’ll help you walk again.”
Arthur was stunned, then let out a bitter laugh. A hoarse, lifeless laugh. “Help me walk again? Even the best doctor in the world couldn’t do it, what can a little beggar like you do?”
The girl didn’t flinch. She moved closer, looking him straight in the eyes.
“If you don’t believe me… I will believe for you.”
That sentence was like a needle piercing Arthur’s already hardened heart. He pushed the untouched plate of meat towards the little girl. “Take it and go.”
The little girl took the food box, bowed her head in thanks. But she didn’t leave immediately. She knelt on the cold tiled floor, placing her small, cracked hands on Arthur’s motionless knees. She closed her eyes and mumbled something.
Arthur felt… a little warmth. Maybe it was from her hands, or maybe it was an illusion.
Then she stood up and dashed out into the snowy night.
Chapter 2: The Ritual of Hope
The next day, she returned. And the day after that.
Arthur began waiting for her. He prepared a hot meal: chicken soup, bread, and grilled meat. He knew her name was Maya, 5 years old, living with a group of homeless children under the Brooklyn Bridge.
Each day, Maya only ate half. The other half, she carefully wrapped in a plastic bag. “For my friends,” she said. “They need a miracle too.”
After eating, Maya performed the same ritual again. She knelt down, placed her hands on Arthur’s feet, and “prayed.”
Julian—Arthur’s nephew and sole guardian—showed his displeasure. Julian had been running the Sterling empire since the accident.
“Uncle Arthur,” Julian said, adjusting his silk tie. “You’re letting that beggar girl tarnish your image. She’s just a professional con artist. Do you believe in this superstition?”
“She wasn’t asking for money, Julian,” Arthur replied, his eyes still fixed on the window waiting for Maya. “And… I’m starting to itch on my toes.”
“That’s just phantom limb pain,” Julian dismissed, then handed Arthur a glass of green smoothie. “Take your medicine, Uncle. The doctor said you need this special vitamin supplement to maintain your muscles.”
Arthur drained his smoothie. It was slightly bitter, with a strong almond scent, but he’d been drinking it for the past five years as prescribed by the private doctor Julian hired.
That afternoon, when Maya arrived, Arthur felt a jolt run down his spine as her hand touched his thigh.
“What are you doing, Maya?” Arthur asked, his voice trembling. “Are you praying to God to heal me?”
Maya looked up. Her clear eyes met his, then quickly glanced toward the bar where Julian was standing on the phone.
“I’m not praying to God,” Maya whispered. “I’m counting.”
“Counting?”
“I’m counting how well the ‘snake’ is asleep today.”
Arthur didn’t understand. He thought it was childish language. But he couldn’t deny the truth: the feeling in his leg was slowly returning. He began to believe. He believed in Maya. He believed in miracles.
He decided to change his will. He would adopt Maya and leave a portion of his estate to orphanages. He called his lawyer for the next morning.
But Julian had overheard the phone call.
Chapter 3: The Last Meal
The next day, the snowstorm intensified. Arthur sat at his usual table, but Maya wasn’t there.
Instead, Julian approached, his face tense.
“She won’t come, Uncle,” Julian said coldly. “I called the police and social services. They’ve cleaned up the den under the bridge.”
“What did you do?” Arthur roared, trying to prop himself up, but his legs were useless. He collapsed back into his chair.
“I did it for your own good,” Julian placed the green smoothie on the table. “Drink it and go home. Don’t make a fool of yourself.”
Just then, the side door swung open.
Maya rushed in. She was soaking wet, trembling, on her back.
The table had a large bruise.
“Uncle Arthur! Don’t drink it!”
Maya shrieked, lunging forward and knocking the smoothie glass off the table. The glass shattered, the green liquid splattered across the pristine white floor, emitting a pungent odor.
“You little brat!” Julian roared, raising his hand to slap Maya.
But Arthur, with explosive force from his rage, grabbed the steak knife from the table and pointed it directly at Julian. “Touch it and I’ll kill you!”
Julian recoiled, terrified.
“It’s poisoned!” Maya sobbed, pointing to the green puddle. “It’s a leg-paralyzing drug! I saw him pour it in!”
The entire restaurant fell silent. Arthur looked at Maya, then at Julian.
“What did you say?”
Maya, trembling, pulled a tiny empty medicine bottle from her tattered pocket. The label was partially peeled off, but the medical warning still read: “Succinylcholine – Muscle relaxant (Causes temporary paralysis).”
“Yesterday… after leaving here, I saw him,” Maya pointed at Julian. “He threw the trash bag into the back of the truck. I… I often rummage through the trash there for food. I saw a lot of these empty bottles. I know this. My dad used to use it to catch dog thieves. It makes the dog unable to walk but still conscious.”
Maya sobbed.
“I don’t know anything about medicine, Uncle Arthur. I’m sorry for lying. I just… I just noticed that every time you drank that liquid, your legs would go weak. I felt your legs to see if your muscles reacted. On days you drank less, your muscles twitched. On days you drank all of it, they were completely numb.”
“When I said ‘Help me walk,’ I meant I wanted to find a way to stop him from giving you the medicine. I intended to steal the bottle of medicine to make you believe me… but yesterday he caught me…”
Arthur slowly turned to look at his nephew.
Julian’s face was deathly pale, drained of all color. He backed away towards the door.
Five years.
Five years Arthur hadn’t been paralyzed by the accident.
The accident was just an excuse. Julian had conspired with the doctor, injecting Arthur with low doses of muscle relaxants every day to keep him confined to his wheelchair, turning him into a puppet so he could seize power and wealth.
Maya wasn’t a doctor. She was a witness.
She lived off the restaurant’s garbage, and it was in that garbage that she discovered the darkest secret of the upper class.
“Julian,” Arthur said, his voice low and terrifying. “I’ve been harboring a viper in my bosom.”
“No… listen to my explanation…” Julian stammered.
“Explain it to the police,” Arthur said.
Outside, sirens blared. Maya, despite her fear and the beating Julian had given her yesterday, had cleverly run to the nearest police station before returning here. She had shown the empty medicine bottle to the police.
Chapter Conclusion: The First Steps
Three months later.
The snow had melted, giving way to the warm spring sunshine of New York.
A crowd of reporters had gathered in front of L’Orangerie restaurant.
The door opened. Arthur Sterling stepped out.
He wasn’t in a wheelchair.
He stood upright, leaning on an oak cane. His gait was still slightly limping due to muscle atrophy from years of inactivity, but he was walking.
Beside him, holding his hand tightly, was Maya. She wore a pretty floral dress, shiny leather shoes, and her hair was neatly braided.
Julian and the corrupt doctor were sentenced to 20 years in prison for intentional injury and conspiracy to commit fraud.
Arthur had officially adopted Maya.
Reporters swarmed them. “Mr. Sterling! Did this little girl perform a miracle to heal you?”
Arthur looked down at Maya, smiling gently. He remembered her words from that first day: “If you don’t believe… I will believe for you.”
She believed in the truth when he had accepted the lies. She believed in life when he had accepted his fate of disability.
“Yes,” Arthur replied, his voice echoing. “She healed me. But not my legs.”
He placed his hand on his chest.
“It healed my heart. It taught me that sometimes the poison isn’t in the wine glass, but in misplaced trust. And a guardian angel… sometimes appears in the guise of a barefoot child scavenging through garbage.”
Arthur put down his cane, shifting his weight onto his legs, which were recovering day by day. He lifted Maya up.
“Come on, daughter. Let’s go home.”
Father and daughter walked in the bright sunshine, leaving behind the darkness of the past. Maya was no longer hungry, and Arthur, he would never have to sit still again – neither physically nor spiritually.
