The Unwanted Wife's True Legacy

The Unwanted Wife's True Legacy

Lu Meng

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My father' s funeral was two days ago. Today, I married his killer. Five years later, I thought I had a quiet, comfortable life with Ethan, my steady, perfect husband who' d saved me from ruin. He was my rock, my savior, the only good thing left. Then, at a high-profile industry party, I slipped behind a potted plant and heard voices: Ethan and my ex-fiancé, Dylan. Dylan sneered, revealing their masterpiece of a scheme – Ethan had orchestrated my father' s bankruptcy and subsequent death just to get me to marry him, a sick consolation prize, all while pining over another woman, Scarlett. My world shattered. The man who held me as I grieved my father was the one who destroyed him. The lies didn' t stop there. I discovered his toxic obsession with Scarlett, a decade-long shrine of photos, and a horrifying plan in his notes: he paid someone to destroy my father' s last gifts to me. The final blow? A will leaving everything to Scarlett, not me, his wife. How could I have been so blind? My entire five-year marriage was a calculated lie, a twisted cover-up, not for love, but for guilt and a sick obsession. He didn't just ruin my family; he stole my choices, piece by piece. The next morning, Scarlett came to my house, a cruel victory lap as she planned a photoshoot within the home she expected to inherit. Ethan, my "loving" husband, rushed to her side when she faked a fall and screamed at me, then refused to believe me. After I collapsed, I woke up in a hospital bed to the news I' d had a miscarriage. Then Scarlett appeared again, casually admitting Ethan had been giving me "harmless" pills for years to prevent me from getting pregnant with his child. She then shoved me down the stairs. That' s when the fog cleared. I walked out of that hospital, leaving a single note: I want a divorce. No looking back.

Introduction

My father' s funeral was two days ago.

Today, I married his killer. Five years later, I thought I had a quiet, comfortable life with Ethan, my steady, perfect husband who' d saved me from ruin.

He was my rock, my savior, the only good thing left.

Then, at a high-profile industry party, I slipped behind a potted plant and heard voices: Ethan and my ex-fiancé, Dylan.

Dylan sneered, revealing their masterpiece of a scheme – Ethan had orchestrated my father' s bankruptcy and subsequent death just to get me to marry him, a sick consolation prize, all while pining over another woman, Scarlett.

My world shattered. The man who held me as I grieved my father was the one who destroyed him. The lies didn' t stop there.

I discovered his toxic obsession with Scarlett, a decade-long shrine of photos, and a horrifying plan in his notes: he paid someone to destroy my father' s last gifts to me. The final blow? A will leaving everything to Scarlett, not me, his wife.

How could I have been so blind? My entire five-year marriage was a calculated lie, a twisted cover-up, not for love, but for guilt and a sick obsession. He didn't just ruin my family; he stole my choices, piece by piece.

The next morning, Scarlett came to my house, a cruel victory lap as she planned a photoshoot within the home she expected to inherit.

Ethan, my "loving" husband, rushed to her side when she faked a fall and screamed at me, then refused to believe me.

After I collapsed, I woke up in a hospital bed to the news I' d had a miscarriage.

Then Scarlett appeared again, casually admitting Ethan had been giving me "harmless" pills for years to prevent me from getting pregnant with his child.

She then shoved me down the stairs. That' s when the fog cleared. I walked out of that hospital, leaving a single note: I want a divorce. No looking back.

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Reborn Heiress Marries My Ex-Fiancé's Brother

Reborn Heiress Marries My Ex-Fiancé's Brother

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Tonight was supposed to be the night I became the happiest woman in D.C., celebrating my engagement at the legendary Bolton Manor gala. I wore emerald silk and a diamond that cost more than most mansions, convinced that Hank Bolton was my soulmate and the key to my family's future. But behind the heavy oak doors of the guest wing, the dream died. I found my fiancé tangled with another woman, laughing about how I was nothing more than a "clueless cash cow" whose inheritance would fund his run for the Senate. In my first life, I reacted with tears and screams, which only allowed his family to paint me as an unstable lunatic. They stripped me of my dignity, bankrupted the Adams estate, and watched coldly as my brother, Lucas, died in a ditch trying to save me. I ended up gasping for air in a burning building, realizing too late that my perfect engagement was actually my execution. I died in the soot and the shadows, feeling the searing heat of a betrayal that burned worse than the fire. I lost everything because I was too blind to see the monsters hiding behind expensive smiles. But then, I suddenly gasped for air and realized the smoke was gone. I was standing in front of a vanity, the calendar mocking me: October 14th. The night of the gala. I had been given a second chance, and this time, I wasn't going to be the victim. I recorded the betrayal on my phone and walked into the library with a heart made of ice. I didn't just blow up the engagement; I demanded a new groom—Hank’s "invalid" older brother, Dereck, a man the world had written off as a dying recluse. "I'll take him," I told the stunned family. I wanted a husband who couldn't cheat, a puppet who would leave me a wealthy widow within a year. I thought I was choosing a safe, broken man to shield me from my enemies. I didn't know that under his blanket, Dereck was hiding a holster, or that the "dying" man was actually a predator who had been waiting for someone exactly like me to walk into his trap.

The Billionaire's Secret Heir: Sign the Divorce

The Billionaire's Secret Heir: Sign the Divorce

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I spent three years as the perfect, silent wife to billionaire Ezequiel Sanford, enduring a marriage colder than the marble floors of our Manhattan mansion. The day I finally saw two pink lines on a pregnancy test was the same day my world burned down. I found Ezequiel at the hospital, but he wasn't there for me. He was cradling his ex-girlfriend, Alexa, with a gentleness he had never shown me, while my own father was being rushed into the ICU after a suicide attempt triggered by our family's bankruptcy. Instead of comfort, Ezequiel handed me divorce papers. He had checked a box that read "No Issue of Marriage," effectively erasing any claim I had to his legacy. He blackmailed me, promising to save my father’s company only if I signed away every cent of alimony and walked away with nothing. When Alexa called him claiming an emergency, Ezequiel shoved me aside so violently I hit the sharp corner of his glass desk. As I collapsed to the floor, clutching my abdomen in sudden, searing pain, he didn't even look back. "Stop acting," he sneered, his voice dripping with disgust. "It’s pathetic. I will never love you, Claudia, no matter how many times you fall down." He walked out to be with her, leaving me bleeding on his office carpet with the secret he had spent years trying to avoid. He thought I was a gold-digger faking a crisis, never realizing I was actually carrying the Sanford heir he claimed didn't exist. Now, I’m hiding in a private clinic while my husband’s security team scours the city for me. My childhood friend just handed me a one-way ticket to Paris and a chance to restart the medical career I sacrificed for a lie. The money just hit my father's account. I’m signing the papers and disappearing. By the time Ezequiel realizes what he’s lost, I’ll be a world away, and he’ll never even know my child’s name.

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