Rejected Queen: The Ex-Wife's Unforgiving Comeback

Tires screeched violently, followed by the harsh, jarring slam of the brakes.

Cheyenne Lawrence was thrown forward, her head slamming hard against the back of the front seat. A blinding pain instantly exploded across her smooth forehead.

"I-I'm sorry, Mr. Foley," Chris Richards, the assistant, stammered, his voice trembling. "Someone stepped into the road without warning..."

"Drive faster." Kelvin Foley, Cheyenne's husband, issued the order in a voice like ice.

He kept his gaze stubbornly fixed out the window, as though he could force the journey to end sooner—as if the courthouse might materialize simply by the sheer force of his stare.

Cheyenne painfully raised her head, a confused ringing filling her ears. The sharp flare of pain from the impact had already faded into a dull numbness.

Today was the day Cheyenne was finally getting a divorce.

All because the other woman had returned.

Through damp, blurred eyes, she caught her reflection in the rearview mirror.

Her brown hair framed a face that was far too pale, etched with exhaustion. The eyes that had once shone so brightly were deadened today—the one thousand, one hundred and sixty-second day of her marriage to Kelvin.

For over three years, Cheyenne had officially borne the title of Mrs. Foley. In reality, she had lived like a ghost in his freezing manor, waiting for the rare moments this man returned home—only for him to look right through her.

She was merely tolerated. Barely even that.

At the thought, a hollow laugh escaped her lips. She managed a faint smile, though inside, she was nothing but a wasteland.

Long before she became Mrs. Foley, she had given her entire heart to Kelvin. Yet, that devotion had earned her absolutely nothing.

At the sound of her laugh, Kelvin's expression darkened. He glanced at her, catching a strange mix of self-deprecation, contempt, and silent agony on her features.

With the fresh bruises blooming on her chin and forehead, she looked almost pitiful.

He cursed inwardly, shoving the thought aside.

He had never wanted this marriage; his grandfather had forced it on him. Every month, he had been obligated to enter her room and fulfill his marital duties. Just the memory of it stirred a volatile mix of anger and disgust in his gut.

He snatched her chin in a brutal grip, forcing her to meet his furious glare.

"What are you up to now? We are signing those divorce papers today, no matter what," he growled.

Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She would smile through gritted teeth if she had to.

"My dear husband," she said, her voice steady, "we only have about ten minutes left of our marriage. Why are you in such a rush?"

He dropped his hand instantly, as if he'd touched something vile, and pulled away without a word. Drawing a crisp white handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped his fingers with slow, exaggerated care.

The sight made Cheyenne's chest tighten. Ice seeped into her veins.

"Don't call me that," he spat, glaring at her. "You don't have the right."

She moistened her red lips and offered an elegant smile, tinged with bitterness. "You're right. I don't deserve to."

Her hands clenched against her thighs, her nails biting into her palms. But that physical sting was trivial compared to the pain he had already put her through.

The black Lamborghini soon glided to a halt in front of the courthouse.

Kelvin's lawyer was already waiting for them.

"Ms. Lawrence," the lawyer began briskly. "Your marriage to Mr. Foley has been relatively brief and has resulted in few joint assets. Furthermore, you share no children. Out of fairness, Mr. Foley has agreed to pay you a substantial alimony."

At the mention of children, a bitter smile tugged at Cheyenne's lips.

Every time they had shared a bed, Kelvin had taken strict precautions to avoid a pregnancy. Even when his grandfather had pressured them for an heir, she had taken the blame, hiding behind fabricated health issues.

Cheyenne shoved the thought away. A child wouldn't have changed a thing.

She turned her attention back to the lawyer. "I don't want it."

The words dropped between them, heavy and absolute.

Kelvin let out a harsh scoff, his gaze dripping with contempt.

"Why pretend not to care about the money?" he sneered. "You only married me for the Foley family's money anyway."

His mockery pierced Cheyenne like an icy blade, tearing away the last shred of dignity she had tried to maintain.

All those sleepless nights managing the family's affairs, all the times she had used her medical skills to care for him, all the crushing loneliness she had endured in that cold mansion—in his eyes, it was all reduced to a self-serving calculation.

Her fingers curled into tight fists, her knuckles turning bone-white. She stood in silence for a long moment, swallowing the bitter bile rising in her throat.

When she finally looked up, her voice wasn't loud, but every word rang with crystal clarity in the quiet hall.

"Is Abbie really the reason you're willing to risk your company's reputation for an affair?"

Kelvin's temper flared.

"That's not the kind of relationship I have with Abbie!" he snapped. "You vicious—"

He didn't get to finish.

A thick stack of divorce papers smacked hard against his chest. The pages exploded outward, scattering across the floor like snow.

Cheyenne's thin, bitter mask completely crumbled, replaced by a hollow indifference born of sheer exhaustion.

"As you wish." She turned on her heel and walked away, never once looking back.

She knew Kelvin would finally realize what a massive mistake he had made.