The Billionaire's Proxy Bride

The Billionaire's Proxy Bride

Luoye Fenfei

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My life was a picture-perfect dream. At 21, married to the successful real estate titan Marcus Thorne, I lived in a Manhattan penthouse fit for royalty. He adored me, called me his "Muse," showering me with exquisite art and personal gestures. I was pregnant, and our future, with its "little masterpiece" on the way, felt utterly secure. Then I found a hidden compartment in Marcus's antique desk, revealing a chilling secret. Inside, a leather-bound scrapbook held dozens of photos of a woman strikingly similar to me-Isabelle Vance. A faded concert ticket, inscribed "For Izzy, my only dream, my eternal muse," confirmed my worst fear. My entire relationship, every tender word, every grand gesture, was a meticulously crafted lie, a painful echo of his past love. Humiliation and devastation washed over me, a physical blow to my gut. I, his beloved "Muse," was merely a stand-in. Our unborn child, conceived in this grand deception, twisted my insides. Brad, Marcus's best friend, accidentally revealed the truth: "Izzy's back! Thorne's already ditching the pregnant kid-bride!" Isabelle herself then flooded my phone with gloating photos and videos of her and Marcus, reliving their old haunts. Every cherished gift, every thoughtful act, was revealed to be a cruel mimicry of his love for her. I was trapped in a gilded cage built on a lie. How could I possibly live with this soul-crushing betrayal? Who was I, truly, if my entire existence within this marriage had been a substitute? The raw despair was unbearable, eclipsing everything. My resolve hardened, brutal and swift. I walked out of my illusionary life, leaving New York and Marcus Thorne, and began the painful process of reclaiming my own future.

The Billionaire's Proxy Bride Introduction

My life was a picture-perfect dream.

At 21, married to the successful real estate titan Marcus Thorne, I lived in a Manhattan penthouse fit for royalty.

He adored me, called me his "Muse," showering me with exquisite art and personal gestures.

I was pregnant, and our future, with its "little masterpiece" on the way, felt utterly secure.

Then I found a hidden compartment in Marcus's antique desk, revealing a chilling secret.

Inside, a leather-bound scrapbook held dozens of photos of a woman strikingly similar to me-Isabelle Vance.

A faded concert ticket, inscribed "For Izzy, my only dream, my eternal muse," confirmed my worst fear.

My entire relationship, every tender word, every grand gesture, was a meticulously crafted lie, a painful echo of his past love.

Humiliation and devastation washed over me, a physical blow to my gut.

I, his beloved "Muse," was merely a stand-in.

Our unborn child, conceived in this grand deception, twisted my insides.

Brad, Marcus's best friend, accidentally revealed the truth: "Izzy's back! Thorne's already ditching the pregnant kid-bride!"

Isabelle herself then flooded my phone with gloating photos and videos of her and Marcus, reliving their old haunts.

Every cherished gift, every thoughtful act, was revealed to be a cruel mimicry of his love for her.

I was trapped in a gilded cage built on a lie.

How could I possibly live with this soul-crushing betrayal?

Who was I, truly, if my entire existence within this marriage had been a substitute?

The raw despair was unbearable, eclipsing everything.

My resolve hardened, brutal and swift.

I walked out of my illusionary life, leaving New York and Marcus Thorne, and began the painful process of reclaiming my own future.

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The Billionaire's Proxy Bride The Billionaire's Proxy Bride Luoye Fenfei Billionaires
“My life was a picture-perfect dream. At 21, married to the successful real estate titan Marcus Thorne, I lived in a Manhattan penthouse fit for royalty. He adored me, called me his "Muse," showering me with exquisite art and personal gestures. I was pregnant, and our future, with its "little masterpiece" on the way, felt utterly secure. Then I found a hidden compartment in Marcus's antique desk, revealing a chilling secret. Inside, a leather-bound scrapbook held dozens of photos of a woman strikingly similar to me-Isabelle Vance. A faded concert ticket, inscribed "For Izzy, my only dream, my eternal muse," confirmed my worst fear. My entire relationship, every tender word, every grand gesture, was a meticulously crafted lie, a painful echo of his past love. Humiliation and devastation washed over me, a physical blow to my gut. I, his beloved "Muse," was merely a stand-in. Our unborn child, conceived in this grand deception, twisted my insides. Brad, Marcus's best friend, accidentally revealed the truth: "Izzy's back! Thorne's already ditching the pregnant kid-bride!" Isabelle herself then flooded my phone with gloating photos and videos of her and Marcus, reliving their old haunts. Every cherished gift, every thoughtful act, was revealed to be a cruel mimicry of his love for her. I was trapped in a gilded cage built on a lie. How could I possibly live with this soul-crushing betrayal? Who was I, truly, if my entire existence within this marriage had been a substitute? The raw despair was unbearable, eclipsing everything. My resolve hardened, brutal and swift. I walked out of my illusionary life, leaving New York and Marcus Thorne, and began the painful process of reclaiming my own future.”
1

Introduction

30/05/2025

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Chapter 1

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Chapter 2

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Chapter 3

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Chapter 4

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Chapter 5

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Chapter 6

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Chapter 7

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Chapter 8

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Chapter 9

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Chapter 10

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Chapter 11

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Chapter 12

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Chapter 13

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Chapter 14

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Chapter 15

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Chapter 16

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Chapter 17

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Chapter 18

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Chapter 19

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Chapter 20

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Chapter 21

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Chapter 22

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Chapter 23

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Chapter 24

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Chapter 25

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Chapter 26

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