The Imposter Husband

The Imposter Husband

Qing Gongzi

5.0
Comment(s)
65
View
11
Chapters

My mother-in-law, Brenda, a vision of fragile piety, sat pregnant on my porch swing. Everyone saw a grieving widow; I saw a master manipulator. Then he arrived-the man who looked exactly like my husband, Mike, but wasn't. He defended Brenda's fake theatrics, grabbing my arm when I refused her water. Something inside me snapped. I slapped him. Brenda' s false shock turned the town against me, labeling me "unhinged." My imposter "husband" systematically destroyed my memories, even disassembling our baby' s crib. He called the sheriff, painting me a deranged threat. At a public ceremony honoring my real husband, Brenda feigned a fall, inducing premature labor. Amidst the horror, 'Mike' then accused me of infidelity, twisting my miscarriage into a tale of instability. The town condemned me, believing every word. I was the villain, the crazy wife; their judgment was a scorching fire. They thought they saw a monster. But their entire world was a carefully constructed lie. And I held the truth. "There is shame in this family," I declared, my voice cutting through their righteous fury, "but it's not mine." My methodical vengeance was about to dismantle everything.

Introduction

My mother-in-law, Brenda, a vision of fragile piety, sat pregnant on my porch swing.

Everyone saw a grieving widow; I saw a master manipulator.

Then he arrived-the man who looked exactly like my husband, Mike, but wasn't.

He defended Brenda's fake theatrics, grabbing my arm when I refused her water.

Something inside me snapped. I slapped him.

Brenda' s false shock turned the town against me, labeling me "unhinged."

My imposter "husband" systematically destroyed my memories, even disassembling our baby' s crib.

He called the sheriff, painting me a deranged threat.

At a public ceremony honoring my real husband, Brenda feigned a fall, inducing premature labor.

Amidst the horror, 'Mike' then accused me of infidelity, twisting my miscarriage into a tale of instability.

The town condemned me, believing every word.

I was the villain, the crazy wife; their judgment was a scorching fire.

They thought they saw a monster.

But their entire world was a carefully constructed lie.

And I held the truth.

"There is shame in this family," I declared, my voice cutting through their righteous fury, "but it's not mine."

My methodical vengeance was about to dismantle everything.

Continue Reading

Other books by Qing Gongzi

More
From Servant to Savior

From Servant to Savior

Romance

5.0

The alarm shrieked through the silent mansion, a sound I knew better than my own heartbeat. For fifteen years, I had been Dorian Steele' s living, breathing medicine, my blood the only cure for his fatal seizures. But then, his fiancée, Ainsley, arrived. She was flawless, a vision of cold, stunning beauty, and she looked like she belonged here. He shoved me away from him, pulling the silk sheets up to cover my worn pajamas as if I were something dirty. "Kira, clean this mess up. And get out." He dismissed me like a servant, after clinging to me for life just moments before. The next morning, she sat in my chair, wearing his shirt, a love bite visible on her neck. She taunted me, and when I spilled coffee, he didn't even notice, too busy laughing with her. Later, Ainsley accused me of breaking Eleanor' s prized porcelain vase. Dorian, without question, believed her. He forced me to my knees on the broken shards, the pain searing my flesh. "Apologize," he growled, pressing down on my shoulder. I whispered my apology, each word a surrender. Then, they drained my blood for her, for a fabricated illness. "Ainsley needs this," he said, his voice flat. "She's more important." More important than the girl who had given him her life. I was a resource to be exploited, a well that would never run dry. He had promised he would always protect me, but now he was the one holding the sword. I was nothing more than a pet, a creature he kept for his own survival. But I was done. I accepted an offer from the Estes family, a desperate, archaic idea of a "propitious marriage" to their comatose son, Emmett. It was my only escape.

Shattered Vows, Unveiled Truths

Shattered Vows, Unveiled Truths

Romance

5.0

My husband, David, beamed with pride at our son Ethan' s university acceptance. I sat across the table, a ghost in a designer dress, invisible. I was the silent engine of their success, but tonight, I was out of fuel. That night, a notification from our shared cloud storage revealed David' s secret: a photo album of him and a young flight attendant, Olivia Hayes, on romantic trips. My heart shattered as I recognized a delicate silver necklace on her-the one I' d admired and hinted at to David, which he' d bought for her. When David and Ethan walked in, their laughter died as they found me on the floor, the truth exposed on my phone. David' s anger flared, accusing me of being hysterical, while Ethan, his loyalty firmly with his father, told me not to ruin their night. David then casually tossed a credit card at me, thinking money could fix everything. I refused, my voice clear and steady as they walked away, leaving me alone in the house I had built, a home where I no longer belonged. The man I married, who once vowed "Wherever you go, I will go," had just run to another woman as I lay bleeding on the airport lounge floor after an explosion. He didn't even glance back. That crystal-clear moment solidified everything: he wouldn't save me, he wouldn't even try. I looked at him, the stranger he had become. "I want a divorce, David," I declared, my voice loud and clear, silencing the chaos around us. I knew then that the only thing I regretted was not ending this sooner.

Architect of Her Own Life

Architect of Her Own Life

Romance

5.0

My hands methodically folded a sweater, placing it into an open suitcase on the bed, sharp creases betraying the inner turmoil I tried to hide. Outside, New York City glittered, oblivious, my life' s soundtrack of distant sirens and traffic hum now signaling its end. An email confirmed it: one-way ticket, New York to Rome. Then the elevator dinged. He was home, and he wasn' t alone. Liam O' Connell, my partner of eight years for whom I' d put my own promising career on hold, walked in with his protégé, Chloe Davis, draped over his arm, their laughter about a private joke stopping short at the sight of my packed bags. Chloe' s sharp eyes surveyed the scene, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips before she feigned concern, asking if I was redecorating. Liam' s charming smile faltered, replaced by annoyance, and he accused me of being dramatic, as if my leaving was just a tantrum. I had built his tech empire with my architectural eye, crafted presentations that won investors, only for him to shatter our partnership and give me a front-row seat to his betrayal. The man who once promised me everything on a Brooklyn fire escape, now stood before me, offering a new car key-a desperate, material bribe-for the wound that cut straight to my soul. He fundamentally misunderstood; he thought my love was a negotiation, a problem to be managed. "You were sleeping with your protégé, Liam," I stated, my voice steady, cutting through his classic, cowardly excuse that "it just happened." He dismissed eight years of my life, of my love, as meaningless, claiming Chloe was young, confused, and looked up to him. But I saw his profound, unshakable disrespect. I had given him everything, only to be replaced by a newer, shinier model, a cruel commodity in his world. "No, it' s not complicated," I said, ringing with clarity. "You made a choice. And now, I' m making mine." As the car sped towards the airport, I pulled out my phone and turned it off, leaving him on the sidewalk with his useless car key. This wasn' t an escape; it was a homecoming. I was flying towards a future I would build for myself, free from a man who knew the price of everything and the value of nothing.

You'll also like

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

SHANA GRAY
4.6

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book