Heir To The Iron Crown

My fiancé, Richard Ahmed, had been unfaithful.

His mistress, Eva Marsh, sent me a provocative video.

In the video, Richard and Eva were passionately kissing, while his friends cheered loudly, "You two are perfect for each other. You should get married."

Richard's parents were holding Eva's hand, saying, "You're the only one we see as part of the family."

I let out a cold laugh and dialed the number of my father, the head of a criminal syndicate. "Get in touch with a team for me. I have a live stream event planned."

"Alright. The condition is that you return to Zlomont and become the new head of the Brooks Group."

...

"Oh my, she looks so happy."

"I'm so envious of Isabella, to be favored by Mr. Ahmed."

The throng's voices rose and fell, yet I felt nothing but a suffocating weight in my chest.

In the center of the red carpet, Richard knelt on one knee, holding up a ring set with a red diamond. His eyes held such deep devotion, like I was his entire universe.

I gazed at him, my heart churning with uncontainable rage.

The photos and videos sent by Eva were still on my phone, her brazen provocation like daggers stabbing my heart, making it hard to breathe.

I had an urge to smash the phone on Richard's face and ask him what he truly thought of me.

But that wasn't enough!

A hysterical confrontation wouldn't balance the humiliation I felt!

Both Richard and Eva needed to pay for what they did to me!

"Isabella, will you marry me?" Richard urged, his tone filled with anticipation.

I beamed slightly, concealing my anger deep in my eyes. "Yes."

Cheers erupted, applause thundered.

The ring slid onto my finger, cold against my skin, and he pulled me into his arms, kissing me deeply amidst the crowd's uproar.

I battled the wave of disgust, letting my thoughts drift back to the summer five years ago when we confirmed our relationship.

Richard's eyes then were full of endless affection, and he swore he would love me forever. But it turned out his "forever" lasted only five years.

After the proposal succeeded, Richard eagerly began planning the wedding. He attended to every detail, from invitations to the wedding dress, as if he were the perfect fiancé.

Watching his busy figure, I sneered inwardly. If not for the constant reminders from the texts on my phone, he might have fooled everyone.

"You're too sensitive. Richard just loves me a little more."

Eva's messages kept popping up, her tone casual, as if purposely trying to provoke me.