His Unwanted Wife: The Hidden Tech Genius

For seven years, I hid my MIT Ph.D. and my identity as a top haute couture designer to be the perfect, obedient wife to billionaire Cornelius Lambert.

But on our anniversary, while I waited at home with a cold dinner, I found him at a Michelin restaurant with his childhood sweetheart, Halle.

My seven-year-old son sat between them, laughing loudly.

"Mom is too boring. I wish Aunt Halle was my real mom."

Cornelius didn't defend me. He just smiled and affectionately ruffled the boy's hair.

When I finally packed my bags and left, I accidentally triggered an old AI robot prototype Cornelius had given me years ago.

A hidden recording played his voice from the very night he proposed.

"Why marry her? Because she's easy to control. Halle doesn't want to settle down yet, so Cassidy is just a perfect, temporary shield."

Later, when I caught them being intimate in a dark parking garage and snapped a photo, Cornelius watched with cold, dead eyes as his massive bodyguard shoved me against a concrete pillar.

My arm was torn open, blood dripping onto the floor, as they forced me to delete the evidence of his affair.

For seven years, I filed down every sharp edge of my brilliance for a man who saw me as nothing but a pathetic, disposable placeholder.

My heart turned to absolute ice. He thought I was just a weak, powerless housewife.

But he forgot who he was dealing with.

As his luxury car drove away, I pulled up the hidden command terminal on my phone and recovered the encrypted cloud backup of the photos.

I looked at my lawyer with a bleeding arm and a cold smile.

"Let's go. Now, we have a weapon."