Billionaire Bride: From Mistress to Wife

In the winter night of 2024, the biting cold wind pierced through the stillness, casting an eerie silence over the land.

It was past midnight, around two in the morning, and the streets were deserted, save for the occasional gust of cold wind.

Suddenly, a black van appeared from the distance, coming to a stop by the riverbank. Two men got out of the vehicle, cautiously looking around before quickly dragging something out of the van.

"Hurry up," one of the men urged. "Stop dawdling. The boss said to get rid of this woman quickly."

The other man sighed regretfully. "Such a pity... She's so beautiful, and now she's going to be drowned. Isn't that right, Sam?"

"Don't think I don't know what you're up to," Sam snapped. "Put those thoughts away. Just get it done. Once we get the money from this job, you can have any woman you want."

"Alright, alright... No need to rush me, Sam... But is it true? Is the person who wants her dead really her fiancé?"

"Are you looking for trouble? Don't ask questions you shouldn't. Just get her into the sack and tie her with the stones!"

"Yeah, I know..."

Emily's body was weak and powerless, but her mind was clear. She could hear the conversation between the two men distinctly, yet she couldn't move a muscle.

The words exchanged between them made her heart plummet into an icy abyss...

Fiancé...

Fiancé...

Ha...

An hour ago, she had been celebrating at a bar with her "fiancé" and close friend, happy about their upcoming wedding next week. She had genuinely believed she was finally going to be with the person she loved.

Then her best friend had pulled her to the bathroom and... everything went black.

When she woke up, it was now, facing death as her last awareness of the world. Her heart was filled with desolation and the despair of betrayal.

Emily couldn't understand how the love of a moment ago had turned into this.

She felt herself being stuffed into a coarse burlap sack, then bound tightly with rope along with the sack.

She felt her body being lifted, weighed down by stones. The two men chanted as they heaved her: "One... two... three, throw!"

With a splash, the sack was tossed into the icy river, creating a high spray of water. Emily quickly felt the freezing water enveloping her, seeping into her mouth, nose, and ears. The breath of death surrounded her, and the darkness grew heavier.

Emily thought she was certainly going to die this time.

But after an eternity of darkness, she opened her eyes once more.

She found herself lying in a rundown rental room, staring at the familiar yet strange surroundings. She pinched herself hard, confirming she was indeed in her old rental from two years ago.

How did she end up here?

There was a calendar on the bedside table. The date was March 2022...

A thought flashed through Emily's mind. She had come back to life... She had been resurrected and returned to two years ago...

Emily sat on the rickety single bed for a long time, stunned.

Suddenly, she burst into laughter, tears streaming down her face as she laughed.

Her tear-filled eyes were fierce and cold, colder than the river water, like a vengeful spirit crawling out of hell, consumed by a single, relentless desire: destruction.

---

For Alexander, the name "Emily" meant "new lover."

For Emily, the name "Alexander" meant "patron."

Their relationship was clear from the start: one provided financial support, and the other was the beneficiary. It was a transactional arrangement, devoid of love.

---

Two months later, in London

The night was dark and heavy, carrying the weight of suppressed pain, shattering the silence of the evening.

A man's voice, cold and ruthless, echoed with intense hatred. "You'll regret this, woman..."

"No, I've never regretted any decision I've made, no matter the outcome. I will never regret it," the woman's voice trembled slightly, betraying her fear, but it was resolute.

"I'll make you understand the meaning of regret," the man snarled, his hand suddenly gripping her throat.

In the darkness, the stifled sound of suffering resembled the desperate whimpering of a wounded animal, fighting a losing battle for survival on the brink of death.

The man gritted his teeth. "Does it hurt? Feel like you can't breathe? Like you're about to die?"

"I've never had any pity for self-degrading women... You deserve this. Today, you'll taste what it's like to be on the edge of death!"

No matter how harsh his insults, the woman made no sound.

The black night mirrored her despair, thick and impenetrable, engulfing the land in darkness without a hint of light.

It was a battle of unequal forces, a fight to the death with no suspense.

---

Under the cover of night, the Empire Tower was brightly lit.

This was the favorite haunt of the city's elite, a symbol of status and privilege.

In the penthouse suite, always reserved for one person and never open to outsiders, the atmosphere was eerily suffocating.

The air was filled with tension, mingled with the sweet and fresh scent of Anna Sui perfume, pure yet tainted with the deep decay of post-chaos.

The sound of running water from the bathroom echoed through the silent night, adding to the eerie atmosphere.

Emily sat on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a bedsheet. Her long hair was disheveled, her cheeks flushed, her breathing unsteady. She looked like a delicate flower just beginning to bloom in the spring breeze. Her exquisite features, her beautiful face, shone like a pearl in the night, finally ready to reveal its luster after being polished.

But her eyes were vacant, devoid of any light, with a layer of lifeless gray, making her beautiful eyes appear doll-like.

Her hands, wrapped around her knees, trembled slightly, her pupils dilated as if she were scared.

Yes, she was scared, more scared than she had ever been.

Because today, she had done the most reckless thing of her life.

She had set herself on a path of no return, like opening Pandora's box, leading to a new beginning filled with uncertainty, leaving her in a state of constant anxiety.

But...

She would not regret it!

"God, if you have given me a miracle, then please let me continue smoothly on this path. Let me hold this man in my hands, make him my unbreakable scepter, and allow me to conquer all."

---

Emily's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening. Alexander emerged, a towel wrapped around his waist, his wet hair glistening under the dim light. He walked over to her, his expression unreadable.

"Did you enjoy your little act of defiance?" he asked coldly.

Emily looked up at him, her eyes still empty. "I don't regret anything," she repeated, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands.

Alexander's lips curled into a cruel smile. "We'll see about that," he said, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "I can make your life a living hell, Emily. Don't forget that."

Emily met his gaze, her resolve hardening. "Do your worst, Alexander. I've faced worse demons than you."

Alexander straightened up, his smile fading. "You're playing a dangerous game, Emily. And in this game, I always win."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Emily alone in the dimly lit room. She let out a shaky breath, her body still trembling from the encounter.

But she knew she couldn't back down now. She had made her choice, and there was no turning back. She would fight, no matter the cost, to take control of her destiny.