Before the wedding, my sister Serena eloped with her true love. Her mafia boss fiancé, Victor Ashford, placed the wedding ring on my finger instead. After we married, this cold-blooded mafia lord spoiled me rotten. Until three years later, when Serena came back with cancer. Everyone urged me to divorce Victor and give him back to Serena. Victor frowned and pleaded with me: “Serena was deceived by that scumbag, and now she has cancer. She’s pitiful. I want to give her a wedding and accompany her through her final journey.” I agreed. I watched them have their grand wedding, their honeymoon… It wasn’t until I got pregnant that I discovered my marriage certificate with Victor was fake. Serena was Victor’s real wife all along. When he returned from his honeymoon, I didn’t cause any drama—because I had already quietly married his mortal enemy, another mob boss. I pushed the marriage certificate back across the counter. “That’s impossible. Is there something wrong with the system? Please check again!” The clerk at City Hall said coldly: “Ms. Langley, no matter how many times I check, the result will be the same. According to our records, Mr. Victor Ashford’s legal wife is Serena Langley. They registered one month ago. You are unmarried.” The slap of those words stung like fire across my face. I instinctively pressed my hand to my lower belly. I was pregnant. Just yesterday, Victor had pressed his face against my stomach and said, “I hope it’s a girl.” I hailed a cab and went straight to his private penthouse. When my fingertip hovered over the biometric scanner, I suddenly realized something laughable—after three years of marriage, I didn’t even have access to his private residence. “Mrs. Ashford!” His assistant rushed up behind me, panicked. “Mr. Ashford is in an important meeting…” “Swipe the card,” I heard my own icy voice say. “I’ll wait for him upstairs.” Pressured by my insistence, the assistant swiped his card. The moment the door opened, cold air mixed with heavy perfume hit me in the face. I looked up and caught two intertwined silhouettes against the frosted glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows. I froze in the doorway. Serena’s sickly voice drilled into my ears: “Victor, if you let me stay here to recover, and my sister finds out…” She covered her mouth and coughed twice, but her eyes darted toward the doorway with a hint of provocation. “She’s been spoiled by the family since she was little. If she finds out you’ve been in love with me all along… I’m afraid she won’t be able to handle it.” I took a step back. Just last night, Victor had held me in his arms and said he loved me… Then I heard Victor cradle her face tenderly: “Alright, let’s not talk about her. Have you taken your medicine?” I turned and walked away in silence. The assistant rushed after me: “Mrs. Ashford, why are you—” I ignored him and stepped quietly into the elevator.
When I got home, I started packing my things. While sorting through a drawer, I found a photo album. My fingers touched a hardcover album. I opened the first page, and my breath stopped. Serena at eighteen, her white dress flowing in the wind. Serena at twenty, smiling brightly under her graduation cap. Serena at twenty-five, standing by the ocean, her long hair dancing in the breeze. On the back of the last photo was a line written in sharp handwriting: “My darling, it’s been three years. You’ve finally come back.” … I cried and cried, until suddenly I laughed. So all this time, he had been looking at her photos in corners I never knew about. When my parents and brother begged him to marry Serena, his slight trembling wasn’t because he felt it was unfair to me—it was excitement? On their wedding day, when he held the bride’s face with tears in his eyes, it was because his wish had finally come true? And I—I was foolish enough to believe he was my salvation. I closed the album and put it back where I found it. My stomach suddenly churned. I rushed to the bathroom and dry-heaved. When I looked up, I saw my own pale face in the mirror. I finally remembered why, on the day Victor and I got our marriage certificate, the clerk had been unusually nervous around him. And why the certificate wasn’t printed in front of us… If he never loved me, why did he marry me?
The sound of the door unlocking startled me awake. “Emma?” Victor walked in with his suit jacket draped over his arm. “Why are you sitting in the dark?” “I happened to pass by a bakery and got you some macarons you like.” I looked at the pretty pastries, but my eyes were glued to his shirt collar. That lipstick mark was like a taunt, red as blood. When I took the box, I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “What’s funny?” Victor asked. “Nothing. I just feel… completely unnecessary right now.” He frowned, about to say something, when his phone lit up. I didn’t know when it happened, but his phone wallpaper had been changed to a photo of Serena. But that wasn’t me. My hand trembled, and the pastries dropped to the floor. Victor quickly turned off his phone. He thought I hadn’t noticed. Then he asked: “My assistant said you went to my penthouse today?” I didn’t answer. He continued, “That’s where I work. It’s dangerous. I’ve told you before—don’t go there. Also, Serena is moving into our house the day after tomorrow.” I smiled bitterly. I had actually believed he would feel guilty. “The master bedroom is spacious. It’s better for her recovery.” He adjusted his cufflinks, his tone casual. “You can move to the guest room for now.” When I didn’t respond, he took my silence as agreement. “Also, there’s a charity gala next week. I’m auctioning off a few pieces. I’ll send you the list later.” “But Serena wants to go. She also said she wants to wear one of your dresses…” “Give her everything,” I interrupted, forcing a smile. “Sick people get priority.” His expression stiffened for a moment. Then he relaxed, relieved, and leaned in to kiss me. I turned my head away. The kiss landed on empty air. “Emma.” He sighed in frustration. “Are you still upset?” “Everything I’ve done has been for you.” He rubbed his temples. “Do you want to watch your family cut ties with you?” “Shouldn’t you appreciate my sacrifice?” What a sacrifice indeed. Was it sacrificing the chance to get a real marriage certificate with his first love? Or sacrificing a night of passion with her in the penthouse? “Yes,” I heard my own numb reply. “You’re right.” Those three words pleased him. His expression softened, and he turned and headed for the bathroom. As the water ran, his phone lit up again. I stared at the glowing screen and, almost without thinking, reached for it. Serena’s messages popped up one after another: [Victor, my last wish is to take a honeymoon trip around the world with you] [Look, I planned the whole itinerary myself~] I opened the file she sent and flipped through it page by page. A yacht off the Greek coast. Skiing beneath the Swiss Alps. The Northern Lights in the Arctic. All the places he had once promised to take me—but never did. So all these years, I was just a cheap stand-in. Every time he looked at me, every time he pressed me into the bed, he was probably thinking of Serena. I suddenly remembered our rushed “wedding.” I had been wearing a bridesmaid dress when he pulled me to the church. I wore the ring that should have been Serena’s. We didn’t even have a honeymoon. He had sworn he would give me a proper ceremony someday. That promise came up again and again—but he always put it off. And now, he was willing to set aside everything in his organization to take Serena on a honeymoon. When Victor came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, I was cleaning up the kitchen. “Emma!” He wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. “Let the maid handle this. Didn’t you text me today saying you had a big surprise for me?” I forced a smile and instinctively touched my belly. “I was just kidding.”
The next day, a notification on my phone reminded me I was supposed to attend a dinner at the Ashford estate. I put on light makeup to hide the exhaustion of a sleepless night. I was about to push open the door when I froze. In the seat that should have been mine—sat Serena. She was wearing the dress Victor had personally designed for me. Her hair was pinned up, and she was sipping soup that Victor had handed to her. “Serena, you need to eat more. Build up your strength.” Seeing this, I wanted to leave. “Emma?” Serena suddenly looked up, feigning surprise. “Come sit down!” Everyone’s eyes shot toward me like arrows. Victor strode over and grabbed my wrist. “What are you doing here?” “I shouldn’t be here?” I asked, almost laughing. “My parents think we’re already divorced…” he said. I stood frozen. So everyone had already decided that Serena was the real wife. At this point, there was no reason for me to stay. “I’m not feeling well. I want to go home and rest.” “No.” His grip tightened. “Serena invited you to sit down. You need to give her some respect.” “Victor!” My voice trembled. “Emma!” He cut me off sharply, his gaze cold, as if looking at a stranger throwing a tantrum. “You showed up here out of nowhere just to compete with Serena for attention, didn’t you?” My eyes instantly turned red. At the other end of the table, Serena suddenly erupted into a violent coughing fit, as if she might suffocate any second. Victor let go of my hand without hesitation and rushed to her side, not even glancing at me as I stumbled. Serena spoke weakly: “Emma… are you still mad at me? If you leave now, it means you won’t forgive me.” Victor’s expression darkened. “Emma. Sit down.” I didn’t move. With one look from him, two housekeepers stepped forward, each pressing down on one of my shoulders, forcing me into a chair. Victor said coldly, “Don’t make this uncomfortable for everyone.” I let them hold me in place. I couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. The man, satisfied that I wasn’t resisting, gave my hand a brief squeeze, then returned to Serena’s side and continued to care for her attentively. Meanwhile, I sat like an outsider, shoved into the farthest corner. Some relatives whispered and snickered: “Some people sit in a position for three years, and still can’t compare to someone who’s been back for three days.” “Serena is so sweet and elegant. Unlike some people, always looking so cold…” I endured every word. When the dinner finally ended, I stood to say goodbye to his parents. His mother gave me a dismissive nod. “I heard you’ve been spending every night at bars. If Serena hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t have known you were so loose.” My blood ran cold. This baseless accusation—so this was Serena’s farewell gift to me.
When I walked out of the Ashford mansion, the night wind was freezing. Every other time I came here, I arrived with Victor. This time, I came alone—and I left alone. My phone suddenly buzzed with a notification: [Mob Boss’s Wife Dumped—Sister Takes Her Place] The photo was from their wedding day, showing my back as I was seated at the staff table. The comments were full of mockery: “Heard she hooks up with male models at clubs every night. She deserved to be divorced. Mr. Ashford not putting a bullet in her is already merciful.” “Three years of marriage and not a single kid? Guess he didn’t even want to touch her.” “LOL, the stand-in finally got kicked out!” I calmly turned off the screen. I remembered that three years ago, when Serena’s scandal first hit the headlines, Victor summoned his PR team overnight. Every negative article vanished within three hours. But now, as lies about me flooded the internet, he didn’t care at all. The moment I reached my door, my phone buzzed nonstop. Mom: [Serena wants a family photo. Get to the studio now.] Dad: [Don’t be difficult. She doesn’t have much time left!] My brother Derek: [If you don’t show up, don’t bother calling me your brother anymore!] I sighed. Serena and I were half-sisters. She was raised by my mother. Even though I was her biological daughter, I could never replace Serena in Mom’s heart. Serena was right. I never liked sharing anything, ever since I was little. Because they didn’t know—everything they got handed to them, I had to claw out of the dirt to earn. My parents would give them allowances and forget about me. Even the housekeeper couldn’t remember I was allergic to mango. Her desserts nearly killed me more than once. On my wedding day, my mother cried and said, “If Serena hadn’t been tricked into going abroad, she would have been the bride today.” And now, they wanted me—the one whose husband had been stolen—to stand in a family photo, smiling and playing happy. My phone buzzed again. This time it was Victor. He sent me a location: “Get here. Now.” I laughed coldly and turned off my phone. This time, I wasn’t going to please anyone. Just as I was about to go inside, two strangers rushed out. They grabbed me by the arms, one on each side. “What are you doing?” I struggled hard. “Let me go!” A black sedan sped through the night. I gripped the door handle. Kidnapping? Revenge? Or… The car screeched to a stop outside a photography studio. That’s when I realized—Victor had me brought here. I was shoved inside, trembling with cold. Serena stood in a white wedding gown, leaning against Victor. “Emma! You’re here?” She smiled sweetly. “Come stand next to me, okay?” My brother Derek grabbed me hard, afraid I’d make a scene. “She can stand next to me. Today’s about you!” As the photographer adjusted our positions, I was slowly pushed to the edge. When the photo was finally done, I turned to leave, shaking. Serena suddenly walked toward me and whispered in my ear: “I stole your husband, Emma. Why won’t you hit me?” I knew she was baiting me. Back at home, she used to provoke me over and over, waiting for me to snap so she could play the fragile victim. But this time, I didn’t move. It wasn’t worth it. I turned to leave—and she suddenly fell backward. The sound of tearing fabric filled the room. Everyone rushed to her side. “Emma!” Victor was the first to reach me. He slapped me hard across the face, knocking me to the ground. “Apologize!” My ears rang. The fall was too violent. A sharp pain shot through my lower abdomen. “Victor…” I suddenly realized something was wrong. I doubled over, clutching my stomach. “My stomach hurts. Take me to the hospital…” Inside me was the baby I had been hoping for for two years… “One slap and you’re faking sick?” Victor sneered. “Serena has terminal cancer, and she’s not as dramatic as you.” “Emma, you’ve always been like this—so theatrical,” my mother glared at me. “Serena doesn’t have much time. Can’t you just let her have this?” My brother grabbed me by the hair and forced my head up. “Someone slaps your face and you grab your stomach? Who are you putting on a show for?” They crowded around Serena and left. No one looked back at me. I curled up on the studio floor. Blood stained my phone screen. I finally dialed a number I had buried long ago: “Come get me now. Everything you asked for… I’ll agree to all of it.”
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “356821”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn #浪漫Romance
Leave a Reply