The Wife He Dumped, The Queen She Returned As novel Chapter 1

Flames painted the night sky a vicious red, and thick black smoke rolled through the air.

Chloe Reed was loaded into the back of the ambulance, gasping for breath as her lungs burned.

She mustered every ounce of her remaining strength to press her shattered phone against her ear.

Ring.

Ring.

No answer.

The sheer terror of a near-death experience and the searing pain coursing through her body left her trembling uncontrollably.

The next second, a familiar, gentle voice cut through the chaos.

"Don't be afraid. I'm here."

But it didn't come from the phone.

Through the frantic, surging crowd and the flashing red-and-blue lights of the police cruisers, a tall, imposing figure strode toward the scene.

Preston Hayes must have rushed straight from the Synergy Summit. Dressed in a bespoke charcoal suit, he radiated a cold, untouchable aura that starkly contrasted with the chaotic wreckage around them.

He was strikingly handsome, but his usually aloof and composed features were drawn tight. For the first time, he actually looked panicked.

The agonizing tension snapping at Chloe's frayed nerves instantly dissolved the moment she saw him.

The suffocating dread of the fire and a tidal wave of relief brought fresh tears to her eyes.

Just then, the paramedic asked, "Were you able to reach your family?"

"Yes, my husband..."

Before Chloe could finish her sentence, a sharp, whiny female voice pierced the air.

"Preston! You're finally here! They're all bullying me!"

A woman practically threw herself into the man's arms. She wore an oversized, masculine hoodie that slipped down to reveal a luminous, bare shoulder.

Puffing out her cheeks, she gave Preston a light punch on the chest. She looked indignant, but her tone was sickeningly sweet.

"Hey! Do you even care about me? Why did it take you so long? I was about to be eaten alive!"

Preston's dark gaze swept over her. Once he confirmed she was unharmed, the hard lines of his face softened.

He took off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. A faint, indulgent smile touched his lips.

"With me here, no one would dare touch you."

The moment the ambulance doors swung shut, Preston happened to glance back, following the direction his assistant, Ken, was pointing.

Slam.

The doors locked, completely severing his line of sight.

...

Who was that woman, and what exactly was she to Preston?

Lying in the sterile hospital bed, Chloe's mind looped the image of Preston holding the stranger.

The way he looked at her... It was so gentle, so vibrant. It was an undisguised display of blatant favoritism.

Throughout their three years of marriage, Preston had been nothing but meticulous and caring.

He never let her lift a finger at home. When she refused to hire a housekeeper, he rolled up his sleeves and managed the household himself.

Financially, he drowned her in luxury. Whether she wanted them or not, her closet was constantly stocked with the latest designer bags, and she held a stack of black cards with unlimited limits.

But the more flawless he acted, the more unreachable he felt.

He was too perfect. It felt like a meticulously rehearsed performance, and he was simply playing the role of the ultimate husband.