SILLAGE

The Discarded Heiress: Marrying My Lethal Husband

Xiao Wang

The rain in Detroit was slick with grime when my family finally came to fetch me. They didn't want a reunion; they wanted a sacrificial lamb to marry into the Kaufman empire to save their failing business. I thought I was just being sold off, but the limo ride ended under a dark overpass where six hired thugs were waiting with chains. My own sister had ordered them to "break my spirit" so I’d be a shaking, pathetic mess by the time I reached the altar. They called me "Detroit trash" and sprayed air freshener when I sat on their leather seats. My stepmother wanted a video of me begging for my life, and my father was ready to trade me like a used car to a man everyone called a "vegetable." They expected a submissive country girl, unaware that I was a high-level "cleaner" who could snap a radius bone before they could even scream. When I finally reached the Kaufman estate, I found my fiancé, Barron, slumped in a wheelchair, drooling and silent. But as soon as the doors closed, the "invalid" grabbed my wrist with a grip of iron and whispered a command that changed everything. I didn't understand why my own blood was so desperate to see me destroyed. What had I ever done to deserve a hit squad and a forced marriage to a man they thought was a corpse? But Barron isn't a vegetable, and I'm not a victim. We just touched down at the Moon family gala in a matte-black helicopter, and as the doors slide open, the "broken" bride is about to show them exactly what happens when you throw away the wrong daughter. "If we're going to crash a party," Barron whispered, his eyes burning with lethal clarity, "we should make an entrance."

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In a large, dark room of a five-star hotel, the curtain was firmly closed. Dirty dishes were scattered on the table. Red wine had spilled over the floor, which had totally soaked the carpet. In the dim light, two figures could be seen on the messy bed. The woman dug her fingers into the man's hair and gave in to his power. She completely lost herself to sexual pleasure as her body shook with desire.

She had been looking forward to this moment for a long time. How could she easily let him go this time? Her charming body rippled. She tried her best to follow him and wanted to keep him.

The man tightly hugged the woman, and they tossed around on the bed for hours. It appeared that he was also beginning to sink into the moment. Either that or he was drunk now and didn't know who she was, and so it no longer mattered to him.

The noises that could be heard from outside the room were unbearably painful for the listener.

Sarah sat on the sofa outside. She could clearly hear the sound from the room even without looking towards it. The door was open, so she could see them from the mirror on the opposite wall.

Her heart was broken. The man inside was her boss, and she loved him dearly. The woman inside the room was his mistress. She couldn't say anything about what they did in the hotel because she was just a secretary, inferior to a mistress. Why did he show it to her? Why? He clearly knew she loved him.

Sarah grasped the sofa tightly and dug her fingernails into the leather. Despite how sharp the pain was that now coursed through her fingers, it failed to distract her from the deeper pain in her heart.

Finally, the alarm clock on the coffee table rang; it had been requested by Charles. He needed to leave the hotel at three o'clock because he had an important meeting in half an hour. As his secretary, Sarah, must remind him. Even if he had a private rendezvous with his mistress, Sarah had to follow him. She couldn't understand why he wanted her to see that scene. Even if he didn't love her, he could at least consider her feelings, Sarah thought to herself.

Sarah held back her tears, but it was futile. She quickly wiped her tears away, tidied herself up, and plucked up the courage to walk into their room.

She dared not even look at them. She just knocked on the door and politely announced, "Sir, it's three o'clock. We need to be going back to the company."

It seemed that they were both satisfied. Thomas Charles was lying on the bed and smoking. His chiseled face could be clearly seen in the dim light. He was so handsome and perfect, particularly when smoking. His messy hair also made him even sexier.

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