He Secretly Married My Sister ,So I Faked My Death and Let Him Lose Everything

The firelight played across my face. By the time it was over, dusk had settled in, and I went home alone.

Days of insomnia had left me in a fog. I'd just brewed a pot of coffee and was about to sit down when my phone started buzzing nonstop.

An unknown account sent me photos. I stared at them, transfixed, and didn't notice the coffee cup slipping from my hands until it shattered on the floor.

A shard of glass sliced into my shin. I didn't feel it.

In the photos, silky hair spilled across Frederick's back. The dim lighting only made the outline of their bodies more unmistakable.

The diamond ring on her hand glinted so brightly it was impossible to ignore. My eyes went wide when I spotted the vanity box I'd always treasured sitting on the table behind them. It used to live in the passenger seat of his car.

The video was grainy, but the audio was crystal clear.

"When are you going to go public with me? I'm the one who sent her that recording. Time she learned her place."

"Relax. You're my only real wife. Once she gives birth, she's served her purpose."

Their silhouettes tangled together, and the sound of heavy breathing drowned out everything else.

I was shaking all over. I ripped the ring off my finger and hurled it across the room. It struck the framed photo of us, the one already yellowed with age, and the glass exploded.

So that was it. My only value was to carry on the Simmons family line. No wonder my parents had never been so thrilled about anything as they were when they heard I was pregnant.

The rage at Frederick's betrayal, at my parents' favoritism, at every swallowed grievance, all of it came pouring out at once.

By midnight, I sat hollow and spent, one hand resting on my swollen belly, dried tear tracks streaking my face.

Once I'd made the decision to raise this child alone, I sent an email to my former business partner, Joseph.

Dawn broke, and Frederick finally came home. The moment he saw me curled up on the couch, he pulled me into his arms.

"Baby, why do you look so worn out? Is the little one giving you trouble?"

He rubbed my frozen hands between his, his eyes brimming with concern.

My voice came out flat and cold. "It's nothing. I stepped on some broken glass."

Only then did he notice the shards scattered across the floor and the blood still trickling down my shin.

Before I could say another word, he scooped me up and carried me to the car, calling ahead to put every doctor in the city on standby.

"I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't have left you alone like that. That's on me. I'm taking you to the hospital right now."

I told him clearly it wasn't serious, but Frederick insisted on running every test imaginable.

"If anything happened to you, I wouldn't know how to go on. I promised I'd take care of you for the rest of your life."

He didn't leave my side for a single second, and only exhaled when every last result came back.

All the other markers were normal, but one line was flagged in bold: acute emotional distress and depression.

Frederick panicked. His only worry was that it might affect the baby's health.

He assumed it was pregnancy hormones. To keep me calm and protect the baby, he suggested taking me to a gala at Greystone Winery.

The next morning, a custom-tailored apricot gown was draped over the headboard. Frederick had stayed up all night teaching himself a fashionable updo. He did my hair and makeup himself, then drove me to the winery.

It was a private estate, but the wine collection was staggering. Frederick knew I loved a good vintage, and every bottle my gaze lingered on for even a second, he bought on the spot.

Spending a fortune just to make me smile. The extravagance turned heads all around us.

My injured leg slowed me down, and I gradually fell behind him.

Most of the guests were Simmons Group business partners. They crowded around him, ribbing him good-naturedly.

"Mr. Simmons, spending a fortune to win a beauty's smile! There were a few rare bottles I had my eye on, and you snatched them right out from under me!"

"Frederick, that most prized vintage of yours, any chance you'd let me have it? Ten times the price, name it."

I listened to all of it and felt nothing.

Frederick waved them off without a glance. "Nothing matters more than Agatha. I only listen to her."

The corner of my mouth twitched. I pretended I hadn't heard that name. My expression didn't change.

Ignoring the small talk, Frederick took my hand and led me down into the winery's underground ballroom.

Through the shifting crowd, a flash of red caught my eye. A familiar figure.

Then the sound of a wine glass shattering cut through the noise, and every pair of eyes in the room snapped toward the same spot.