I Became the Cruel CEO’s Wife, But I Have a First Love Who Looks Just Like Him Everyone knows I bear a striking resemblance to Adrian’s late wife, Ava. They think I’m just her replacement. What they don’t realize is that Adrian himself looks uncannily like the boy I fell for years ago. The difference is, the boy I loved was gentle and refined. Adrian, on the other hand, often radiates a volatile, tyrannical aura. One day, he killed my first love. Little did he know that even a docile puppet can bare its claws. 0 I had barely reached the entrance of Adrian’s office when a body covered in a white sheet was carried out. A crowd of people knelt outside. Inside, Adrian was drunk, half-lying on an intricately carved chair. His brows were furrowed, eyes tightly shut. Shards of porcelain cups and jade plates littered the floor. As I stepped in, a blue and gold vase suddenly shattered at my feet, its fragments cutting my arm. I cried out in pain, clutching my hand as crimson blood seeped through my fingers and dripped onto the floor. The sight of blood on the ground made me dizzy. I looked up to see Adrian beckoning me. “Aria, come here.” I had grown all too familiar with that name. I obediently walked over. He stroked my head like one would pet an animal. His palm was warm, but I didn’t dare lower my guard. For some reason, the hand resting on my head always made me uneasy. The next moment, pain shot through my scalp as I was forced to meet his cold, dark eyes. “Who gave you permission to wear Ava’s hairpin?” He yanked out the pin and glared at me coldly. Even after a year, facing those eyes still filled me with fear. They were the eyes of a lone wolf – a flash of red in the vast desert, locking onto its prey. I knew he disliked seeing fear in my expression, so I skillfully put on the gentle smile I had practiced countless times. “My dear, you’ve had too much to drink. Do I need permission to wear my own accessories?” His eyes lowered, long thick lashes hiding his expression. After a long moment, he burst into laughter, wrapping an arm around my waist and burying his face in my chest. “Aria can wear whatever she likes, as long as she never leaves me…” Ava… that was his late wife’s name. My name is also Aria, but written with a different character meaning “distant.” 0
“Are you here to beg me to release those refugees too?” He held my hand, his tone casual and disinterested. I lowered my eyes submissively. “I wouldn’t dare.” “My Aria would never say she doesn’t dare.” I changed my words. “I won’t.” He looked pleased, his expression softening. Happy with my response, he waved his hand, ordering the staff outside to clean up his office. I saw the head butler breathe a sigh of relief, giving me a grateful look. Adrian had renamed his office “Ava’s Study,” while my quarters were now called “Ava’s Tower.” Back in my room, my father was already waiting. “Mrs. Blackwood.” My father is the company’s CFO. He used to dote on me, but since I became Adrian’s wife, it had been a long time since he called me Aria. “Father, have you come because something’s happened at the company again?” My father stared at me intently. In the few days since I’d last seen him, he seemed to have aged a decade. Silver strands sprouted at his temples, and his eyes held a pleading look. He knelt before me. “Please, ask your husband to help the people suffering from the layoffs.” I didn’t move. This wasn’t the first time my father had knelt before me for the sake of the employees. But I clearly remembered the first time he knelt before his own daughter – it was to persuade me to marry the cruel Adrian. Just because my face was 80% similar to Ava’s, he offered me to Adrian. Not for family honor, but so that I could use my resemblance to Ava to stop Adrian when he was about to do something cruel. He wanted me to influence Adrian’s decisions. I admit he’s a good executive, but he’s not a good father. He used our family bond to bind me, sending me to this cold, loveless marriage. Enduring the mix of adoration and torment that Adrian’s unstable moods brought me. Now, he doesn’t even call me Aria anymore. It’s always “Mrs. Blackwood” this and “Mrs. Blackwood” that. I lowered my eyelids, hiding the hurt in my eyes. “What’s happened?” “There’s unrest at the factory in Springfield. The leader’s been arrested and is scheduled for execution tomorrow.” With Adrian imposing such heavy workloads and pay cuts across the company, I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire workforce revolted. Without looking up, I picked up my unfinished embroidery and continued stitching a plum blossom pattern, my tone flat. “Springfield is far from here. Even if Adrian ordered a stay of execution today, it would take two days for the order to reach Springfield. You can’t save him.” “What if that person is Marcus?” The familiar name struck my ears. My fingers slipped, and the needle pricked my fingertip. A drop of blood fell onto the plum blossom I had just embroidered. “Marcus has already been brought to the city. If you don’t persuade Adrian to stop, Marcus’s head will be on display in the town square tomorrow!” My heart clenched. I slowly put down the needle and stood up. Marcus… was the boy I loved. 0
Years ago, when I was fourteen, I went with my mother to a temple. We were attacked by bandits who killed all our guards. The horses pulling our carriage panicked and bolted, nearly running off a cliff. In that moment of crisis, Marcus saved me. He wore white, cutting a dashing figure – a spirited young man. With just one glance, my heart was captured. I could never love anyone else. I had never run so frantically through the house before. Adrian had deliberately built my quarters close to his office out of his love for Ava. I ran through the winding corridors, dragging my long skirt, seemingly out of breath after running for a long time. My dress tripped me, but I paid no mind. I got up and hurried to Adrian’s side. When I burst in, a blood-stained prisoner was kneeling before Adrian, who sat lazily in his chair. My sudden appearance startled them both, and they turned to look at me. As my gaze swept over the prisoner’s face, I froze momentarily. It wasn’t until Adrian chuckled softly that I snapped out of it, hastily averting my eyes and scurrying to Adrian’s side. Adrian gently stroked my head. “Aria thinks he looks similar too, doesn’t she?” I kept my eyes lowered. “I was startled by the blood just now. I didn’t get a clear look at his face.” Adrian laughed softly, twirling a lock of my hair around his finger. “If you didn’t see clearly, go take a closer look.” I couldn’t fathom why he wanted me to look. Perhaps Marcus didn’t even remember someone like me. Up close, his injuries were even more apparent. There were at least ten wounds of varying sizes all over his body, flesh torn open and bleeding. His white prison uniform was stained black and red, the original color indiscernible. I had heard that after the leader of the Springfield uprising was captured, he endured severe torture without revealing his accomplices. I never imagined that leader would be Marcus. Marcus stared at me coldly, all traces of his former gentle demeanor gone, replaced by ice. I couldn’t help but take a few steps back, only to bump into Adrian’s chest. I hadn’t noticed him standing behind me. “Did he frighten you?” Before I could answer, Adrian kicked Marcus hard in the chest. The kick was so forceful that Marcus coughed up a mouthful of blood. “In my presence, you’d better keep your claws sheathed.” Marcus laughed coldly and spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva. “A cruel and incompetent tyrant has no right to call himself ‘I’.” The bloody spittle landed right on Adrian’s shoe. Adrian’s expression remained calm, but my heart began to race. “Aria.” When he called my name, my body trembled slightly.
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