“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."
Annabelle retched violently, though she hadn't eaten since this morning. Her body had been rebelling against her these past few days, a reaction to the stress of constantly being under Sophia's watch. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she cursed under her breath.
"Damn that woman," she grumbled, splashing cold water on her face, the chill helping to ground her spinning thoughts. She stared at her pale reflection, her lips trembling despite herself.
"Anna, are you okay?" William's voice cut through the silence, and Annabelle sighed, gripping the sink. The old man had become insufferably attached to her, his concern more suffocating than sweet.
With a deep breath, Annabelle adjusted her tone to a sweet, placid whisper. "I'm fine, Papa." She dabbed at her face with a towel, smoothing her features into a delicate mask before stepping out.