I never told my husband I owned a five-billion-dollar empire. To him, I was still “the useless housewife.” At his promotion party, he forced me to wear a maid’s uniform and serve drinks, while his mistress sat in the place of honor, wearing my jewelry. I kept my head down and served quietly—until his boss saw me and stopped cold. He bowed slightly and said, “Good evening, Madam Chairwoman.” My husband laughed nervously. “Sir, you must be mistaken—she’s just my wife.” His boss looked at him and replied, “No. You work for her.” My husband’s face drained of color. What happened next left him completely shattered.

The study was dark, illuminated only by the cool blue glow of three monitors. On the center screen, a ticker tape of stock symbols raced by, but Elena only cared about one: NVS. NovaStream. Up 12% in after-hours trading.

Elena leaned back in her ergonomic chair, rubbing her temples. At thirty-two, she was the silent majority shareholder and founder of NovaStream, a cloud computing giant that had quietly revolutionized data storage. Her net worth fluctuated with the market, but it generally hovered around the three-billion-dollar mark.

She heard the distinctive rumble of a BMW pulling into the driveway.

Ideally, she would be popping champagne. NovaStream had just acquired its largest competitor in Asia. Instead, Elena closed her laptop, slid it into a hidden compartment under her desk, and hurried to the kitchen. She pulled a pre-made casserole out of the oven, messing up her hair slightly to look frazzled.

The front door opened. Mark walked in.

Mark was handsome in a conventional, catalogue-model way. He had the jawline of a hero and the ego of a dictator. He threw his keys into the bowl with a loud clatter.

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