His Secret Wife, Her Public Shame

Tomorrow was our fifth anniversary, and I wanted to surprise my husband, Cleve, with a special ring. But at the jewelry store, my marriage certificate was rejected. The system said it was invalid.

Confused, I went to city hall, only to be told my marriage to Cleve Drake was dissolved a year ago. And worse, he had remarried the day after the divorce was finalized, to Ivanna Mccarty, the shy orphan girl our family charity had sponsored.

My world shattered. I found Cleve in his office, kissing Ivanna, who was dressed and styled exactly like me. I overheard them. Ivanna, feigning vulnerability, asked what if I found out. Cleve chuckled, saying I was becoming too independent, forgetting my place. He then gave Ivanna the exact "Five-Year Vow" ring I had tried to buy.

The next day, Cleve acted as if nothing happened, even giving me an identical ring. But the lies were poison. I learned Ivanna had undergone plastic surgery to look like me, a chilling strategy to replace me.

Then, the ultimate betrayal. My brother, battling a chronic illness, died from a sudden allergic reaction. An anonymous message revealed Ivanna had switched his medication. At his funeral, Ivanna deliberately shattered the urn containing his ashes, whispering, "He's with the dirt now. Just like you will be soon."

I was framed for malpractice, my career destroyed, and beaten in jail on Cleve's orders. I overheard Ivanna confessing to Cleve that the car accident that fractured my wrist was planned, and that Cleve himself suggested pushing me into the table corner.

They wanted me destroyed. But I wouldn't be their victim. I would disappear.

Chapter 1

Tomorrow was the fifth anniversary of Cecil Farley' s marriage to Cleve Drake. The five years had passed in what felt like a blink, a smooth and happy time.

She wanted to give him a special gift. She drove to the most exclusive jewelry store in the city, a place called "Eternity."

Eternity was famous for one thing: its anniversary rings. They had a special collection called the "Five-Year Vow," and they only sold these rings to couples who could prove they had been married for exactly five years. It was a strict rule, a marketing gimmick that made the rings incredibly sought-after.

Cecil walked into the quiet, luxurious store. A salesperson with a polite but distant smile greeted her. Cecil pointed to the ring she had seen online, a simple platinum band with a single, perfect diamond embedded inside.

"I'd like to purchase this one," she said.

The salesperson nodded. "Of course. As you know, for the Five-Year Vow collection, we require identification and a valid marriage certificate."

"No problem," Cecil said, pulling the documents from her purse. She had come prepared.

The salesperson took the papers and went to a back room. Cecil waited, picturing Cleve' s face when he saw the ring. He wasn't a man who cared for flashy things, but he valued meaning. The story of this ring would please him.

The salesperson returned a few minutes later, her smile gone.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Farley," she said, her voice stiff. "There seems to be a problem. The system is rejecting your marriage certificate."

Cecil frowned. "What do you mean? Is it a technical issue?"

"The system states that the marriage certificate number you provided is invalid. It doesn't correspond to an active marriage."

The salesperson's tone was now impatient, as if Cecil was wasting her time with a fake document. The other customers in the store glanced over, their curiosity piqued.

Cecil felt a flush of embarrassment. "That can't be right. We've been married for five years. Perhaps you entered it incorrectly?"

She remained polite, her voice calm despite the strange situation. A doctor' s training kept her steady under pressure.

"I've checked it three times," the salesperson said flatly. "The result is the same."

Cecil knew arguing was pointless. There had to be a simple explanation. "I see. I'll go to the city hall to get a new copy. There must be a clerical error."

She forced a smile, took back her documents, and left the store, the weight of the other customers' eyes on her back.

The city hall was a stark contrast to the jewelry store. It was loud, crowded, and smelled of old paper. Cecil waited in line, a growing sense of unease in her stomach.

When it was her turn, she explained the situation to the clerk, a middle-aged woman with tired eyes. The woman typed Cecil' s information into the computer.

Her fingers stopped. She stared at the screen, her expression turning strange. She looked up at Cecil, then back at the screen, a mix of pity and suspicion in her eyes.

"Ma'am," the clerk began slowly, "according to our records, your marriage to Mr. Cleve Drake was dissolved a year ago."

The words didn't make sense. It was like hearing a diagnosis in a foreign language.

"What? That's impossible," Cecil said, her voice shaking slightly. "We are married. Tomorrow is our fifth anniversary."

The clerk sighed, her expression hardening. "Ma'am, I understand this may be difficult, but the records are clear. Mr. Drake filed for divorce last year. Furthermore..."

She paused, looking uncomfortable.

"Furthermore, what?" Cecil pressed, her heart starting to pound.

"Mr. Drake is currently married. He remarried the day after the divorce was finalized."

The clerk looked at her with accusation, as if Cecil were some delusional woman trying to impersonate a tech mogul's wife.

"That's a lie!" Cecil' s voice was sharper now, drawing attention from people nearby. "I am Cecil Farley. I am Cleve Drake's wife. We live together. He was with me this morning!"

Her mind was reeling. A mistake. It had to be a mistake.

The clerk, now defensive, double-checked the information. "The system is never wrong, ma'am. The divorce was processed. The new marriage certificate was issued."

She turned the monitor toward Cecil. There, in black and white, was the undeniable proof. Divorce decree, dated one year ago. And below it, a new marriage certificate.

Cleve Drake and... Ivanna Mccarty.

The name hit Cecil like a physical blow. Ivanna. The sweet, shy girl from the orphanage that Cleve's family charity had sponsored for years. The girl Cleve had brought into their lives, treating her like a younger sister.

The world tilted. The sounds of the city hall faded into a dull roar in her ears. Her legs felt weak, and she gripped the counter to keep from falling.

The clerk was saying something, her voice distant. "Ma'am, are you alright?"

Cecil couldn't answer. She was in a daze, stumbling out of the building and into the harsh afternoon sun. Ivanna Mccarty. Cleve's wife. For a whole year.

Her phone buzzed in her purse. She pulled it out with numb fingers. A message from Cleve.

"Thinking of you. Can't wait for our anniversary tomorrow. I love you, Cecil."

The message was a cruel joke. A phantom limb of a love she thought was real.

She sank onto a bench, the bustling city street a blur around her. Her mind flooded with memories. Cleve, her childhood sweetheart. They had grown up together.

He had promised to marry her when they were just kids, building a sandcastle on the beach. He had fought off bullies who made fun of her for being bookish in high school. He had held her hand through college, planning their future together.

Her family, the once-powerful Farleys, had fallen on hard times. Their business collapsed, their wealth seized by rivals. Cecil, once a princess, became a pariah.

She had tried to push Cleve away then, too proud to let him be tied to her family' s ruin.

"You should find someone better, Cleve. I can't offer you anything now."

He had just held her tighter. "I don't want anything but you, Cecil. I'll wait. I'll build my own empire, and I'll come for you."

And he had. He dropped his PhD program to start his tech company. He worked relentlessly. And when he became the tech mogul everyone knew today, he came back for her, ignoring his own family's objections.

He married the daughter of a disgraced family. He supported her through medical school, building a state-of-the-art research wing at the hospital just for her.

He had even started sponsoring Ivanna because Cecil had mentioned wanting to help underprivileged girls with a passion for medicine. He did it for her. Or so she thought.

Now, all of it felt like a lie. A carefully constructed cage.

Why? Why would he do this? Divorce her in secret? Marry Ivanna? And then pretend for an entire year that nothing had changed?

A storm of questions raged in her head, but no answers came. She couldn't understand the man she had loved her entire life.

She decided she had to see him. She couldn't wait. She needed to see his face when she asked him.

She hailed a cab and gave the address of his company headquarters, the building he had built from the ground up. The building where she worked, in the research wing he had named after her.

She walked through the familiar lobby, the staff greeting her with respectful smiles. "Mrs. Drake."

The title felt like a brand on her skin.

She took the private elevator to the top floor. His office door was slightly ajar. She could hear voices from inside.

She pushed the door open, ready to confront him.

And then she froze.

Cleve was sitting on his large leather couch, and on his lap was Ivanna. His hands were wrapped around her waist, and he was kissing the side of her neck.

Ivanna looked different. Her hair was styled just like Cecil's. She was wearing a dress that was a replica of one of Cecil's favorites. Even the way she tilted her head was an eerie imitation.

It was like watching a distorted reflection of herself.

Cleve used to kiss her neck just like that, whispering her name. Seeing him do it to another woman, a woman dressed as her clone, sent a wave of nausea through her.

Their intimacy deepened. Cleve's hands roamed over Ivanna's body, and she moaned softly, a sound that was both a plea and an invitation.

Cecil felt a cold dread wash over her, a physical sickness that made her want to vomit. She backed away, her hand over her mouth, but she couldn't tear her eyes away.

Then she heard their words, and the last remnants of her world shattered.

"Cleve," Ivanna whispered, her voice trembling with a practiced vulnerability. "What if she finds out? I'm so scared."

Cleve chuckled, a low, possessive sound. "She won't find out. And even if she does, what does it matter?"

He stroked her hair. "You did a good thing, coming to me. She was becoming too independent, too focused on her career. She was forgetting her place."

"I only did it because I love you," Ivanna said, her voice dripping with false sincerity. "I don't want anything but to be with you. I don't care about the money or the status."

"I know," Cleve murmured, his voice softening. "You're my good girl. My Mrs. Drake."

He was calling Ivanna by Cecil's title. The title he had just used in his text message to her.

Then he added a condition. "But you must remember, you are never to challenge Cecil's position in public. You are my wife in private, but she is the face of the Drake family. Understand?"

"Yes, Cleve," Ivanna said meekly. "Whatever you say."

He smiled, pleased with her obedience. "Good. Then you deserve a reward."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, blue velvet box. He opened it, and inside was a ring. The exact same ring Cecil had tried to buy just hours ago. The "Five-Year Vow" ring from Eternity.

Ivanna gasped. "Oh, Cleve! It's beautiful!"

"It's for our first anniversary," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "To celebrate you officially becoming Mrs. Drake."

Cecil couldn't breathe. She stumbled backward, bumping into the wall. The sound was soft, but in the charged silence of that moment, it was as loud as a gunshot.

She didn't wait to be discovered. She turned and fled, running from the office, from the building, from the ruins of her life.

She ran out into the street, a chaotic blur of traffic and people. She didn't know where she was going. She just ran.

She saw a young couple walking hand-in-hand, laughing. The image was a stab to her heart. That used to be her and Cleve.

The memories assaulted her again. Cleve promising her forever. Cleve protecting her. Cleve sacrificing for her.

The man who had built a hospital wing for her dream was the same man who had secretly divorced her and installed a look-alike in her place. The man who texted "I love you" was celebrating a secret anniversary with another woman.

The sheer, calculated cruelty of it was breathtaking.

It wasn't just a betrayal. It was an erasure.

She found herself in front of a bar. She walked in and started drinking, shot after shot of whiskey, trying to burn the images from her mind.

The alcohol didn't help. It only sharpened the pain.

She drank until the bartender kicked her out at closing time. She staggered home, the world spinning around her.

She woke up on her own bed, the sun streaming through the window. Cleve was sitting beside her, a look of concern on his face.

"Cecil, you're awake. You had me so worried. The butler said you came home drunk last night. Are you feeling alright?"

His voice was a gentle caress, the same voice he had used to soothe her for twenty years. Now, it made her skin crawl.

He handed her a glass of water. She stared at his hand, the hand that had held Ivanna, and felt a surge of revulsion.

"Tomorrow is our anniversary," he said softly, ignoring her silence. "I got you something."

He produced another blue velvet box. Her heart stopped.

She knew what was inside. She had seen it already.

She was no longer his wife. Their anniversary was a lie. Their marriage was a lie.

He opened the box. Inside was the "Five-Year Vow" ring. An identical twin to the one he had given Ivanna.

"I know how much you wanted this," he said, his eyes filled with what looked like love. "It symbolizes our eternal bond. Five years down, a lifetime to go."

Eternal bond? Which one? The one with her, or the one with his new, secret wife?

She wanted to scream. To throw the ring in his face. To claw at his handsome, lying features until the ugliness inside was exposed.

But she didn't.

A chilling calm settled over her. The fight had gone out of her. What was the point? The battle was already lost. She had been defeated a year ago and hadn't even known it.

All that was left was to salvage the last shred of her dignity.

She looked at the ring, then at him. The love of her life. The man who had destroyed her.

And in that moment, she made a decision. She would not give him the satisfaction of a fight. She would not let him see her break.

She would just disappear.