My Cheating Wife Never Saw My Rise Coming

Chapter 010

For years, Eldric had been nothing but a frail weakling—so feeble he could barely wring a chicken's neck. Yet here he was, sending Demontae flying with a single kick. If Naviya hadn't witnessed it herself, she'd never have believed it possible.

Even now, the sight left her stunned. How had he suddenly become so strong?

It made no sense, but it didn't matter. So what if Eldric had improved? He'd never measure up to Demontae. The gap between them was too wide. And now that he'd dared strike a Connor? The family would never let this slide. He'd be dead meat.

No, sticking with Demontae was the smart choice. Only he could give her the life she wanted.

"Eldric," she sneered, "don't flatter yourself thinking I have second thoughts about this marriage. Dream on. Wait here—I'm getting the divorce papers."

She stormed inside and returned moments later, clutching documents and a pen. She'd already signed them. "Whatever changed you," she spat, "don't think you're in Demontae's league. You're not worthy to tie his shoes! And after hitting him? The Connors will come for your head."

Eldric barely registered her words. If he'd feared Connor retaliation, he wouldn't have thrown that punch. Wordlessly, he signed his name, noticing how eagerly she'd signed first. So much for sentiment.

He handed her copy back and turned to leave.

Behind him, Demontae staggered upright, face twisted in rage. The kick had hurt him badly, but not enough to keep him down. "This isn't over, Eldric!" he shouted. "You'll pay for this!"

He had to say something to save face. Letting his rival walk away unchallenged? Unthinkable.

Eldric didn't even glance back. "Bring whatever you've got," he called over his shoulder. "I'll be waiting."

The man striding toward the Maybach wasn't afraid of Demontae or what might come next.

Having decided to reinvent himself completely, he was done being the pushover he'd once been.

Under the searing glares of Demontae and Naviya, Eldric swung into Lirael's Maybach and peeled out without so much as a look back. Only when the luxury car vanished from sight did the pair finally look away, their faces dark with rage.

"That bastard!" Demontae growled, doubled over in pain. "Since when could that human-shaped sack of incompetence fight? Wasn't he just a walking disappointment yesterday?"

Naviya gnawed at her lip, equally baffled. "It doesn't add up. He's always been weak as a kitten. Was it all an act? But why pretend?"

Eldric had been Naviya's live-in doormat for years. Though their marriage was paper-thin, she thought she knew him—the man could barely pour water without spilling it. Yet today? He'd launched a man Demontae's size through the air like a ragdoll. The sheer impossibility of it made her head spin.

Even professional fighters would struggle to topple a mountain like Demontae. The more they puzzled over it, the less sense it made.

Gritting his teeth, Demontae vowed, "Doesn't matter what tricks he's learned. He'll beg for death before I'm through with him."

The Connor Family ran half of Herbshire, and now they'd wormed their way into the Veyras of Aetherdale's good graces. Once the Veyra reps arrived to finalize details, the deal would be sealed. Of course, every two-bit hustler with dreams had scrambled for this partnership—but the Connors were confident. This alliance meant money, power, and prestige. No wonder Demontae strutted around like he owned the city. And now? Eldric had signed his own death warrant.

But first—medical attention. Demontae's injuries needed treatment. With Naviya supporting him, they climbed into his car, her knuckles white on the steering wheel as they raced toward the hospital.

Naviya's behavior around Demontae was as different as fire and ice compared to how she treated Eldric. With her ex-husband, she'd lash out without thinking. But here? Every word was measured, every gesture calculated—walking on eggshells around the seething beast in the passenger seat.

It was a bitter irony—this mirrored how Thorne used to grovel before her, yet Naviya embraced this role wholeheartedly.

Demontae moved in circles Thorne couldn't even glimpse from the gutter. Love had nothing to do with it. But clinging to him held the master key to every luxury she desired.

So she became a sycophantic chameleon, contorting herself into knots to please him. Whether he wanted the moon or the stars, she'd find a ladder.

The ink wasn't even dry before she'd severed the last tie to Thorne. Now she belonged to Demontae—his unquestioned property.

Vindication fizzed through her veins like champagne. Not a shred of regret. Shedding Thorne had been overdue. Even without Demontae, she'd have gnawed her own arm off rather than endure another day with that spineless waste of oxygen.