“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."
"I already applied it at home, don't bother," Evelyn lied, not daring to turn around and face him. In response, Zevian's grip on her wrist tightened, sending her heart into a frantic rhythm.
In a swift motion, he released her wrist, but before Evelyn could sigh in relief, his large hands settled on her shoulders, causing her breath to hitch. Her entire body tingled with electricity from the warmth of his palms. He gripped her shoulders and gently but firmly guided her to sit down.
Zevian's intentions were clear; it was only fair for her to endure the same torture he had felt under her touch. The way her fingers had lingered on his muscles, he knew she had enjoyed it, and he wasn't about to let her off easily.
Evelyn wanted to flee, but her legs betrayed her. Her mind was a whirlwind, torn between escaping and staying, her rational thoughts overridden by the tempted devil in her mind. With a resigned sigh, she turned and laid on the beach chair.