Billionaire Husband Went Crazy After Ex-Wife Died

In my fifth year of marriage to Dominic, I'd become the woman all of Chicago knew as the crazy one the mental case. Jealousy gnawed at me constantly, and my temper frayed easily, my emotions sharp and unsteady, unravelling more with each passing day.

So it only made sense when he slid a divorce agreement across the table.

"Vivian's pregnant. A Harrington heir can't be born illegitimate, and Mrs. Harrington can't be a lunatic."

"Once she's had the baby, Ill marry you again, and you'll still be Mrs. Harrington."

I was forced to sign my name, then locked away in a private sanatorium a hundred miles from the city.

The first year, I waited with desperate hope for him to come take me home. Instead, he handed me an ultrasound report.

"Twins a boy and a girl. Vivian's pregnant again. Just wait a little longer."

The second year, he had electric fencing installed around the sanatorium grounds.

"Harrington Corp is going public. We can't afford any slip-ups right now."

By the fifth year, he simply called to tell me to wait one more year.

He must have expected me to scream and lose control the way I always did. But this time, I just nodded calmly.

"Alright. However long it takes."

After all.

I didn't have much time left anyway.

Chapter 1

The other end of the line was noisy Vivian's laughter mingling with children's voices drifted through the phone.

Dominic was silent for a few seconds, then lowered his voice.

"Claire, don't do this. You know my hands are tied."

I'd been hearing that line for five straight years. The old me would've torn the world apart, demanding to know what excuse the almighty Harrington family could possibly have.

But now.

I pulled the blanket over my legs long since stiff and unresponsive and took a deep breath.

"If there's nothing else, I'm hanging up. I need to rest."

On the other end, Dominic was rushing out the door, his patience already wearing thin.

"I made you a promise, and I'll keep it. But the children are still young taking them from their mother would hurt them. If you're so petty you can't even tolerate a couple of kids, how do you expect to run the Harrington household?"

"I have things to deal with. Think it over, and stop being so unreasonable."

The line went dead. For the first time, I didn't cry. I didn't scream.

I was about to wheel myself back to my room when the old symptoms flared up again.

A searing pain tore through my chest. I toppled from the chair and hit the floor hard, blood surging up my throat and choking off my voice. I tried to speak but couldn't stop coughing.

The medication was gone. I dug my nails into my palms, fighting to stay conscious. I forced out a few words.

"Call... call Dominic."

My caregiver Nora scrambled for the phone, hands shaking but as always, the call wouldn't go through.

Through the haze, I remembered.

Three years ago, the first time my illness struck, I hadn't known what was wrong with me. I was terrified.

After I called Dominic, he drove through the night to be with me. But that same evening, Vivian pregnant at the time accidentally ate something that sent her to the hospital.

He lost his temper with me for the first time. That very day, he pulled every staff member from the sanatorium, cut off my contact with the outside world, and even blocked my number. I'd begged and pleaded just to keep Nora by my side.

After a dozen failed attempts, the call finally connected. I lay on the floor, my whole body trembling with pain.

"Dominic, help me."

Before everything went black, his irritated voice reached my ears.

"I'm really busy right now. I don't have time to indulge you. There's only so many times you can pull this. Stop with the same stunt you did three years ago it's getting old."

When I woke up in bed, the sky had gone completely dark. Nora was still sitting beside me.

My phone buzzed with dozens of photos from Vivian all of the three of them at a pet shop, posing from every angle.

"Look how happy we are together! Dominic says he can't bear to be away from us, so even last night he was holding me, trying to figure out how to get rid of you."

"Oh, and when you called? He was grooming the dog we adopted together. After all, he always says my needs come first."

Dominic was severely allergic to dogs. We'd once had a huge fight over getting one.

That war ended with me finding a new home for the dog I'd raised for years.

And now here he was, risking a full-blown allergic reaction to groom a dog with his own hands. If that wasn't love, what was?

I laughed bitterly, typed back "That's nice," and put my phone away.

The room sank back into darkness. In the distance, fireworks exploded across the sky spelling out Vivian's name.

I dragged myself to the floor and pulled open the drawer where I kept the old photos and letters from my time with Dominic.

When I left the Harrington Estate, I hadn't taken a single thing except these.

The flames in the fireplace pushed back the darkness. Behind me, the fireworks kept going, one after another, without pause.

For so long, I'd been trapped in memories that should have been buried, and being the perfect Mrs. Harrington had become my obsession.

Whatever time I had left, I was going to live it for myself.

Chapter 2

Being with Dominic you could call it an accident.

The day we met, my best friend Vivian and I were waiting tables at a restaurant. A drunk customer started groping me. Dominic saw it, kicked the guy across the room, and just like that, forced his way into my life.

After the chaos died down, I brought him back to the apartment. But the place had been cleaned out every last thing. That's when I realized Vivian had panicked about getting dragged into the mess and disappeared with all the money.

I said nothing and quietly tended his wounds. Under the lamp light, his eyes caught the glow bright and shining, more brilliant than anything I'd ever seen.

"I mean it I've got nowhere to go. Let me stay. I'll protect you from now on."

Dominic was spectacularly bad at holding down a job. He burned through cash faster than I could earn it. I had no choice but to pick up two extra shifts just to keep us afloat.

During that stretch, all I did was work. When my body couldn't take it, I popped pills. New bruises and scrapes piled up from one shift to the next.

But the night he found out I'd been pushed around again for a few extra dollars, he went quiet for a long time. In the middle of the night, half-asleep, I felt his arms tighten around me. I kept my eyes closed, turned into his chest, and whispered that everything was okay.

The next morning, he left early. When I saw him again, he was standing by a car I couldn't even name, parked downstairs.

That's when I learned the truth. He was the heir to the Harrington fortune born proud and headstrong, refusing to be anyone's puppet. He'd run away to make something of himself on his own.

Fortunately, the Harringtons were powerful enough that his parents, however indulgent, didn't need a strategic marriage. They were cold toward me, but they didn't stand in our way.

He hired an etiquette coach for me and took me to every gala and fundraiser.

At one event, he held me close in front of the cameras and murmured in my ear.

"Don't be scared, Claire. I'm here. Nobody touches you."

Once, I arrived at a gala ahead of him because of a work delay. A group of guests humiliated me in front of everyone.

I wanted to swallow it, let it go I didn't want to cause trouble for Dominic. But the next second, a hand closed around my wrist. That familiar warmth, that scent it steadied me instantly.

"Hey. It's okay. Remember what I told you?"

I watched, stunned, as he tucked me behind him. Then he grabbed a bottle and smashed it over the man's head.

Glass shattered and caught the light on its way down, glittering like the fireworks Mom used to take me to see when I was little.

"The deal's off. Harrington Corp is done with the Bennett Group. Permanently."

I was completely, irrevocably gone.

From that day on, everyone in Chicago knew the Harrington heir had someone he'd burn the world down for.

The day we were old enough, he dragged me to city hall and we got our marriage license. But after the wedding, the doctors told me that the years of overwork had likely left me unable to have children.

The day the results came in, he held me and his voice broke.

"That's my fault. If we can't have kids, then we won't. I swear, Claire I'll spend the rest of my life making this up to you."

But in our second year of marriage, Vivian came back. She got on her knees and begged, said she'd lost her mind back then, and now her mother was in the hospital and she had nowhere else to turn.

I felt sorry for her. I found her a job, wired her money, and personally looked after her mother.

Day one, Dominic came home complaining that Vivian couldn't do anything right. If it weren't for my sake, he'd never have hired someone so incompetent.

Day ten, Dominic told me Vivian had messed up another spreadsheet and nearly made him chew out the wrong person in a meeting.

Day thirty, Dominic asked me to have a talk with Vivian she'd been high-maintenance on business trips, making a fuss about every little thing.

Day sixty, Dominic promoted Vivian to his personal assistant and started training her himself.

Day one hundred and fifty, he walked in with Vivian at his side and threw a divorce agreement in my face.

"Claire, the family needs an heir. I'll tell everyone you've been committed for a mental health condition. Once the baby's born next year, I'll bring you home."

"Claire, you know you've got nothing without me."

From that day forward, I knew my sky had gone dark.

Chapter 3

When I woke from the dream, I was still in a daze. That line "You've got nothing without me" kept echoing in my head.

I turned and froze. There, sitting right beside my bed with his legs crossed and his laptop open, was Dominic. Two years since I'd last seen him.

He heard me stir and started to speak with a frown, but then he noticed the tears still wet on my face.

Whatever he'd been about to say, he swallowed it. Stiffly, he reached out and wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes.

His fingertips were ice-cold. I flinched.

He felt me recoil. His hand paused, and his gaze drifted to the wheelchair beside the bed.

"When did you get hurt? Why didn't you tell me?"

The concern in his eyes looked genuine.

But Dominic if you'd come even once, if you'd been anything less than dismissive on a single phone call, you would've seen what was happening to me.

Dominic, the time when I needed you is long past.

"It's nothing. I hurt my foot on the stairs a while back. It's fine now."

"You are still going to be Mrs. Harrington, after all. Having scars on your body will make those paparazzi ask all sorts of questions."

"Dominic, we're divorced. I'm not your property, and I'm not some prop for the Harrington image." I said softly, a little tired.

This was the first time in five years Id contradicted him. A strange glint seemed to flash in his eyes, but he quickly masked it.

What trick are you playing now? He frowned, his tone impatient. I told you Id remarry you when the time is right. You just twisted your ankle, yet you insisted on calling me over. You know were busy. Do you really have to ruin her mood? She just wanted to show you some photos. You two have been friends for yearsyou know how she is.

I looked at the man Id loved for five years and gave a bitter smile.

After two years apart, hed left everything in his office and driven hundreds of miles overnightall to protect the woman who had almost left me homeless.

I stared at him. A rash still lingered on Dominic's neck the remnants of an allergic reaction that hadn't fully faded.

I thought of my dog the one I'd given up, the one that ended up dead and five years of swallowed grief erupted all at once.

"What about me? She has you by her side. What about me?"

I suddenly felt a deep weariness; I didn't want to wait anymore, I didn't want to argue anymore.

"Let me go, Dominic. I don't want to be Mrs. Harrington anymore."

Dominic froze, looking at me in disbelief. This was the first time I'd said something like that. He stood up abruptly, a flash of anger across his face.

"You're just saying that in anger! Are you upset that I haven't cared enough about you?"

I closed my eyes, too tired to argue anymore.

That's when Vivian walked in carrying a glass of warm milk. She stood beside Dominic, all wide eyes and soft voice.

"Claire, I'm sorry. I know how much you love dogs, so I thought you'd like the photos. I didn't realize you'd be so sensitive about it."

Dominic studied me for two seconds. Then a cold, mocking smile crossed his face.

"You're right. I have been neglecting you. I'll take good care of you now."

He shot to his feet and dragged me out of bed. I cried out in pain. Blood surged up my still-injured throat.

Before I could get a word out, he clamped his hand around my jaw and forced an entire glass of scalding milk down my throat.

"Dominic, I'm allergic to "

Vivian heard me trying to speak and rushed over, throwing her arms around me. Under the cover of the embrace, she pinched me hard several times, then shoved me away and let out a shriek.

"Claire! I was only worried about you! If something's bothering you, just tell me you didn't have to bite me!"

I collapsed to the floor, clawing at my tongue. In those few wasted seconds, my throat had already begun to swell shut. I couldn't force out a single word in my own defense.

Vivian kept sobbing.

"Look at you you were like this before, and you're still like this now. How am I supposed to trust you with Dominic?"

Dominic had been walking toward me, but he stopped. Vivian's injury had seized all his attention.

He scooped her up and was about to rush out. Then he turned back, looking down at me from above.

"Vivian begged me to come check on you. She was worried about you. And this is what you do put on another performance. In all our years together, since when have you ever been allergic to milk? You don't deserve a shred of the concern we've shown you!"

The hem of his coat whipped across my face, leaving an instant welt.

Then his voice cold as ice rang out.

"Tell security: kill the cell service at the sanatorium. No one goes in or out. Take Nora with you when you leave."

"Claire, this is what you get."

Chapter 4

The room fell deathly silent. This time, I was truly alone.

My throat had swollen so badly I could barely breathe. My vision blurred, and hallucinations began creeping in at the edges.

I dragged myself into the wheelchair and barely managed to call out:

"No... Nora..."

But Nora had already been taken away by the bodyguards Dominic brought with him. My voice echoed through the vast, empty sanatorium with no one to hear it.

A crushing wave of panic consumed me. I regretted putting on a brave face and telling him it was just my foot. I regretted not grabbing the hem of his coat when he turned to leave.

I was terrified of ending up like my mother -- collapsed somewhere no one could find her, crying for help that never came, lying dead for seven days before anyone discovered her body.

I remembered there was a first aid kit downstairs that might have medicine. I gripped the wheelchair and inched my way toward it, but the wheels caught on the carpet. The chair tipped, and I tumbled down the stairs with it.

The wheelchair crashed down on top of me. In my final moments, instinct took over, and I dialed Dominic's number -- because after my parents died, he was the only person who'd ever been there for me.

This time, the call connected quickly. But I could barely speak:

"I was... wrong... help--"

"Ow! Dominic, it hurts so much!"

Vivian's voice drowned mine out once again, and my throat sealed shut completely.

I could barely see anymore. I didn't notice the call had been disconnected. I just kept rasping Dominic's name over and over, until my eyes closed forever.

---

Dominic was driving when something in his chest went hollow. He thought of how I'd been lying on the floor moments ago, and despite everything, a flicker of worry stirred in him.

He was about to call me back when Vivian's sobbing cut him off.

For seven full days, I didn't call to pester him the way I always had. Something in Dominic felt inexplicably empty.

Even back-to-back meetings couldn't hold his focus. The restlessness in him only grew worse.

He told himself that if I called to apologize this time, he'd bring me home immediately.

For reasons he couldn't quite explain, Dominic -- for the first time -- left Vivian's messages unanswered. He pushed aside the rest of his work and pulled up the surveillance feed he hadn't touched in three years.

My bedroom still looked exactly as it had that day. A layer of dust had settled over everything.

A sharp pain lanced through his chest. A sick feeling rose in his gut. With trembling hands, he scrubbed the footage back to the day he'd left -- and watched me pinned beneath the wheelchair, calling his name for a full thirty minutes.

While I lay there screaming for him, he'd been driving Vivian to the hospital. For nothing more than a slight redness on her hand.

He drove to the sanatorium like a man possessed -- that place he'd so deliberately ignored for so long.

When he pushed open the door, Dominic saw me lying on the floor with my back to him. Beside me, the carpet was stained with blood that had long since dried.

The last of the evening sun slanted through the window and fell across my body, and for a moment it was as though he'd been carried back to the night they first met -- her breath warm against his skin as she carefully dabbed at his wounds with a cotton ball.

So perfectly in sync. So achingly intimate.

Dominic stood frozen in the doorway, his face drained of every trace of color.

"Claire..."