“I will let you be on top from tonight, please don’t divorce me, darling!” ----- Evelyn’s fairytale life shattered when a stranger stormed in, claiming to be the real daughter of the Wright family with proof. Her enviable privileges? Stripped away. Her spotless reputation? Tarnished. Her four-year engagement? Abruptly annulled. But the worst betrayal came from her once-loving father, all set to marry her off to settle a business score—with a man twice her age! Everyone in the circle attended this scandalous wedding, eager to witness the downfall of the supposed fake heiress. Yet, the climax was not what even Evelyn had anticipated! Zevian Reign, the nation’s richest tycoon, known for being every woman’s fantasy and the nightmare of all his rivals, made a dramatic entrance. His arrival stunned the guests, but his brazen wish was even more startling! He casually demanded to replace the groom and marry the beautiful bride. No one dared to challenge, nor did anyone have the guts to disobey him. They were left with no choice but to watch the wedding unfold. And it was Evelyn’s time to smirk, for she was now the devil’s wife. And all those who had ruined her, they would pay back in tenfold! ++++ [Excerpt] "Why would I ditch my husband for a loser?" Evelyn chuckled, crossing her arms defiantly. "He is better than him in all the aspects." Her gaze drifted to her ex-fiancé nearby, and she continued with a smirk, "Actually, a lot better in bed." As Annabelle’s face flushed with disdain, Evelyn patted her back and leaned in to deliver another slap. "So, good luck with licking my leftovers, dear step-sister. He's a perfect match for you."
Evelyn's eyes widened in horror. Laila was dead? And she had murdered her? As absurd as it sounded, the serious look on the officer's face suggested he wasn't joking. Even Zevian couldn't comprehend what was happening. How could Evelyn, who hadn't been in Vespera for the last 11 days, be implicated? It had to be either a massive misunderstanding or yet another plot against her.
While everyone in the Igor family was equally confused, Margaret felt her mind spinning from the news. Annabelle… No, Laila… Her granddaughter was dead. She felt her body tremble as she gripped the nearby couch for support. Carson, who was with them all along, quickly stepped forward to help his Madam sit.
"Is… is she the one?" Margaret asked in Italian, her voice trembling as tears brimmed in her eyes. Carson nodded with a heavy sigh. Unable to process it, she turned to her grandson. "Ronan, is this Annabelle our Laila?" she whispered, yet everyone in the room heard it.