Rise of the Formidable Ex-wife (Lucia and Alex) novel Chapter 85

Chapter 85

Chapter 85

Chapter 85

Marco sat hunched over his computer screen at three in the morning, his eyes burning from staring at financial documents for twelve straight hours. Empty coffee cups littered his desk, and his shirt was wrinkled from hours of nervous sweating. The auditors from Preston & Associates would arrive in six hours, and he was running out of time.

His fingers flew across the keyboard, moving numbers between accounts, adjusting dates on transactions, creating explanations for funds that had disappeared into offshore accounts Margaret knew nothing about. Every keystroke felt like digging his own grave deeper, but he couldn’t stop.

The office building was silent except for the hum of fluorescent lights and the frantic clicking of Marco’s keyboard. Outside his window, the city slept peacefully, unaware that a man’s entire world was crumbling behind the glass walls of Hart Industries.

“Still working, honey?”

Marco’s head snapped up. Margaret stood in the doorway wearing a black cocktail dress that probably cost more than most people’s monthly rent. Her makeup was perfect despite the late hour, and she carried herself with the confidence of someone who had spent the evening being admired.

“Where have you been?” Marco asked, his voice hoarse from hours of silent panic.

“Networking event,” Margaret said, stepping into the office on impossibly high heels. “Very productive evening. Made some fascinating connections.”

Marco noticed she didn’t elaborate on what kind of connections, and part of him didn’t want to know. The photo she had sent earlier with Harrison Blackwell was still burned into his memory.

“How’s the preparation going?” Margaret asked, moving to stand behind his chair. Her perfume was different tonight, expensive and seductive, the kind worn to impress someone new.

“It’s complicated,” Marco muttered, turning back to his screen. “There are discrepancies I need to explain.”

Margaret’s hands landed on his shoulders, her fingers kneading the tense muscles of his neck. But instead of comfort, her touch felt calculating.

“Poor baby,” she cooed, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “This is all so stressful for you.”

Marco continued typing, trying to focus on the numbers that refused to add up correctly. “I can handle it.”

“Can you?” Margaret’s fingers dug deeper into his shoulders. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like your ex-wife has completely destroyed you.”

The words hit Marco like ice water. He stopped typing, his hands frozen over the keyboard.

“She’s taken your company,” Margaret continued, her voice soft but poisonous. “Made you into her employee. Turned you into a laughingstock in front of your own board.”

“Margaret, please.”

“I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking,” Margaret interrupted, her massage becoming more aggressive. “The great Marco Hart, reduced to begging his ex-wife for permission to run his own business.”

Marco’s jaw clenched. He tried to return to his work, but Margaret’s words had hit their target.

“Do you know what people are saying about us?” Margaret asked, moving around to perch on the edge of his desk. “About you?”

“I don’t care what people say.”

“They’re saying you’re weak,” Margaret said, examining her manicured nails. “That you let a woman walk all over you. That you’re not the man they thought you were.”

Marco’s hands began to shake. “Stop.”

“Harrison Blackwell mentioned it tonight,” Margaret continued casually. “He said he couldn’t imagine being in business with someone who couldn’t even control his own ex-wife.”

The mention of Harrison made Marco’s stomach churn. “You talked to him about me?”

“He brought it up,” Margaret shrugged. “Apparently, the whole financial district is buzzing about how Lucia Smith played you. How she outsmarted the great Marco Hart without breaking a sweat.”

Marco stood abruptly, knocking over his coffee cup. The dark liquid spread across his papers, staining hours of careful

Chapter 85

work.

he didn’t outsmart me,” he said desperately. “This is just temporary. A strategic partnership.”

“Is that what you call it when your ex-wife owns fifty-one percent of your company?” Margaret’s laugh was cold and cutting. “When she can fire you with a simple board vote?”

Marco grabbed napkins from his desk drawer, frantically trying to save his documents from the spreading coffee. But the stains had already soaked through, making the numbers illegible.

“Look at you,” Margaret said, watching him scramble to clean up the mess. “This is what she’s reduced you to. A desperate man making desperate mistakes.”

“I’m fixing this,” Marco said, his voice cracking. “The audit won’t find anything. I’ve covered everything.”

“Have you?” Margaret slid off the desk and moved closer. “Because Harrison mentioned something interesting tonight. He said Preston & Associates are known for finding things other auditors miss.”

Marco’s blood turned to ice. “What do you mean?”

“I mean they’re very thorough,” Margaret said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “They look at everything. Bank records, transaction histories, account transfers. The kind of details that can reveal patterns.”

Marco felt the room spinning around him. Preston & Associates had a reputation for being absolutery relentless. If there were hidden assets to find, they would find them.

“But don’t worry,” Margaret continued, her hand sliding up Marco’s arm. “I’m sure you’ve been completely honest about all your financial dealings. I’m sure there are no secret accounts or hidden assets that might complicate things.”

The way she said it made Marco’s skin crawl. There was knowledge in her voice, suspicion that cut too close to the truth.

“Of course not,” Marco lied, but his voice betrayed him.

Margaret’s smile was sharp as a knife. “Good. Because if they did find something like that, it would be devastating. Not just professionally, but personally. Imagine if I discovered you’d been hiding money from me the same way you hid it from Lucia.”

Marco stared at her, seeing clearly for the first time the woman he had married. Not the supportive partner she pretended to be, but a predator who was already calculating her next move.

“You wouldn’t…” Marco started.

“I wouldn’t what?” Margaret’s voice was innocence itself. “Support my husband through a difficult time? Stand by the man I love? Of course I would, darling. As long as he’s the man I married. Strong. Successful. In control.”

She moved closer, her lips near his ear. “But you’re not in control anymore, are you? You can’t even manage your own ex- wife. You let her take your company. Your position. Your authority. What kind of man does that?”

Marco’s fists clenched. “I didn’t let her do anything. She manipulated the situation.”

“Did she?” Margaret’s voice was soft, mocking. “Or did you just underestimate her? Just like you’re underestimating me

now.”

She pulled back, studying him with eyes that held no warmth. “I married a powerful man, Marco. A man who controlled his company. His family. His life. I didn’t sign up to be married to someone who`takes orders from his ex-wife.”

“This is temporary,” Marco repeated, but the words sounded hollow even to him.

“Is it?” Margaret moved toward the door. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks pretty permanent. Lucia is Chairwoman. You’re COO. She gives orders. You follow them. That’s not temporary. That’s a complete role reversal.”

She paused in the doorway, looking back at him with calculating eyes. “And I need you to understand something, Marco. I’

m not ready to become poor. I’m not ready to be married to a man who can’t provide the life I deserve.”

The threat was subtle but unmistakable. Margaret was letting him know that her loyalty had conditions. That if he couldn’t maintain his wealth, his status, his power, she would find someone who could.

“I should get back to work,” Marco said weakly.

“Of course,” Margaret agreed. “The auditors will be here so soon. I do hope everything goes smoothly.”

She paused, her hand on the doorframe. “Oh, and Marco? Harrison invited me to lunch tomorrow. Just to discuss some potential investment opportunities. I said yes. I hope you don’t mind.”

Marco watched her leave, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and rage. Margaret wasn’t just networking, she was positioning herself for whatever came next. Making connections with wealthy men who might provide the lifestyle she demanded if Marco’s fortune disappeared.

He turned back to his computer, but the coffee-stained documents seemed to mock him. Hours of work ruined, just like

Chapter 85

everything else in his life.

The Glock un his computer showed 3:47 AM. In a few hours, the auditors would arrive and begin dissecting every financial decision he had made over the past several years. They would trace money trails, examine account transfers, and follow patterns that might lead them to the offshore accounts he had hoped to keep secret.

And if they found those accounts, Margaret would know. She would know that he had hidden assets from her just as he had hidden them from Lucia. She would know that the man she had married was not just a cheater, but a liar who couldn’t

be trusted with money or truth.

Marco buried his face in his hands, feeling the weight of every choice he had made pressing down on him. He had thought he was so clever, moving money around to protect himself during the divorce. He had convinced himself that he deserved to keep more than the courts would allow, that Lucia didn’t understand the value of what he had built.

Now those same hidden assets could destroy what was left of his life.

Marco looked at the financial documents spread across his desk, coffee stains bleeding through the numbers like accusations. He picked up his phone and started to dial his lawyer’s number, then stopped.

What could he say? That he had been hiding assets for years? That his current wife was threatening him? That his ex-wife now controlled his company and might soon discover financial crimes that could send him to prison?

Marco set the phone down and stared out his office window at the sleeping city. In a few hours, the sun would rise on what might be the last day of his freedom. The auditors would arrive with their questions and their computers and their relentless pursuit of truth.

And Marco would finally face the consequences of every lie he had ever told, every dollar he had ever hidden, every choice he had made in the name of protecting himself from the people who loved him.

The coffee stains on his documents had dried into permanent marks, brown smears that no amount of cleaning could

remove.

Just like the stains on his soul.

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