Betrayed By My Husband But I Married His Rival

Four years ago, my life ended in a single moment.

One second, my parents and I were laughing in the car, the next—screeching tires, shattering glass, blood pooling across the pavement. When I woke up, they were gone. My world was silent. And as if fate hadn’t taken enough, I found out my then-boyfriend, Jack, had been cheating on me—with Amber. They got married. I was alone.

Jeremy was there, offering comfort, promising forever. I had been too broken to see the truth. Too desperate to realize that he was the one who had destroyed me in the first place.

My grip tightened on my phone as the voice on the other end spoke.

"Ms. Cornelia, the footage is gone. Someone erased the files. And the paperwork you signed to close the investigation… Are you sure you don’t remember?"

I never signed anything.

A chill crawled down my spine. Back then, I had been so lost, so devastated, that I believed everything Jeremy told me. I had let him handle everything. How could I have been so blind?

If the evidence was deleted, then Jeremy still had it.

I stormed into our bedroom and went straight to the safe. My fingers hovered over the keypad before I typed in Amber’s birthday. The lock clicked open. Pathetic. He never even bothered thinking of a hard one, that wasn’t so obvious.

Inside, neatly stacked files and USB drives filled the space. My breath hitched as I pulled out the documents. A police report. A list of paid-off officers. Bank transactions to an unknown account. And at the bottom, a hard drive labeled with the date of my parents' accident.

My stomach turned to lead. Jeremy was behind it.

I scanned the papers, my hands trembling. The payments, the false statements, the hired thugs—it was all here. He had planned this. My parents’ deaths weren’t just an accident. They were murdered.

Because we were rich. Because Jeremy wanted control.

I took photos of everything. Copied the files onto a flash drive. Then, carefully, I locked the safe as if nothing had happened. My expression remained blank as I slipped out of the room, years of deception settling like ice in my veins.

Later that night, Jeremy returned, signing lazily, “Hey, sweetie! Amber said she misses you and wants to sleep here. Did you cook for us?”

Amber was with him, draping herself over his arm. I had forgiven her for stealing Jack from me before because we were friends. People make mistakes and I was happy with Jeremy that I didn’t care about Jack anymore.

But I was wrong, because I had forgiven her, then I had given her access to my life again. So she was able to steal Jeremy from me. I should have known how jealous Amber was of me ever since.

I forced a tired smile, keeping my hands steady as I signed back, I didn’t cook. I’m exhausted.

Jeremy huffed, muttering, "Useless." but then he signed, “It was okay, sweetie.”

Amber smirked. "It’s fine, babe. She won’t hear you anyway."

Jeremy sighed dramatically before signing, “Amber said it was okay. Go rest. Amber and I will cook together for you and we’ll call you once done.”

I nodded, turned away, and climbed the stairs without a word.

That was the last straw. I couldn’t afford any betrayal again. I had to do something now.

Upstairs, I threw open my closet and grabbed a suitcase. Every piece of clothing, every reminder of this life, stuffed inside without hesitation. I wouldn't spend another night under this roof.

As I zipped up my bag, faint noises drifted from downstairs—low, breathy moans.

I clenched my teeth, ignored them, and walked out the door.

I called my lawyer before heading to the hotel. "I want a divorce. And I need all shared assets of Jeremy and I to be transferred to my name immediately. Jeremy can’t know until it’s done."

The lawyer hesitated. "Ms. Cornelia, this is sudden—"

"Just do it," I snapped.

Everything Jeremy had stolen from me, I was taking back.

But that wasn’t enough.

He had taken my parents. My freedom. My trust.

I wanted more than to leave. I wanted to disappear completely.

By midnight, I drove to the outskirts of town, to a place whispered about in hushed conversations. A private agency that specialized in making people vanish.

No trail. No loose ends. Just gone.

I stepped inside, gripping the flash drive in my palm.

"I want to disappear," I said firmly.