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He Killed My Love. I Buried His Pride Novel Cover

He Killed My Love. I Buried His Pride

After a decade of devotion to Sean Armstrong, the billionaire heir, his wife believed their bond was unbreakable. But her loyalty is shattered at a glittering family gala when Sean arrives holding a pregnant mistress's hand. Stripped of her clothes and dignity in a public humiliation, she is cast aside. Instead of surrendering to despair, she walks away with her wounds, vowing to return not as a victim, but as a force that will bring them all to their knees.
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Chapter 1

Lea’s POV

Rumors about my husband’s affair with his secretary had been circulating for a while. But I chose to believe his smile, his embrace, and the sweet words he whispered in my ear every day.

Until today.

At a big family gathering—also attended by his business partners—my husband, Sean Armstrong, arrived with her. Rebecca Smitt.

Her hair flowed elegantly, her face was glowing, and she proudly flaunted her pregnancy.

I was frozen. It felt like a nightmare come true.

In front of everyone, Sean said coldly, “I don’t need you anymore, Lea.”

At that moment, the world stopped spinning. My breath caught in my throat.

A faint laugh echoed from the corner of the room. My mother-in-law—the woman I once treated like my own mother—walked over to Rebecca and embraced her lovingly.

Something she had never done to me. Not since my father-in-law passed away.

“It’s time this family had an heir,” she declared loudly. “We can’t keep hoping from a barren woman!”

I bit my lip, holding back tears.

Just hours ago, I had planned to surprise him with the news—I was pregnant. But now, it seemed pointless.

“Get off that chair!” she snapped. My body was shoved roughly, and Rebecca quickly took my seat. She leaned against Sean’s shoulder, smug.

I froze. All praise was directed at Rebecca’s belly—prayers, hopes for the future. As if she were the light—and I, nothing but a shadow.

Then Sean said, “Starting tonight, she’s going to live in this house.”

I turned my head slowly, barely believing my own ears.

“That’s impossible,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “You can’t do this without my consent!”

His gaze was empty. Cold. Like I was nothing more than an object.

“You have no right to speak here!”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My body felt paralyzed in that sliver of time.

“Pack your things. Change the sheets. Prepare a room for Rebecca.”

My fists clenched at my sides, trembling with the storm in my chest.

“No,” I said softly, my voice shaking. “She’s just a gold-digger. You should realize that, Sean!”

His face hardened. His stare cut deep—not with guilt, but with disgust.

“What makes you think you’re better than Rebecca, Lea?” he said sharply, full of contempt.

“You’re just a poor, uneducated woman. Even the maids in this house are more useful than you!”

I was speechless. My mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

It felt like being slapped over and over again.

“My biggest regret is marrying you!”

Ten years. I loved him. Served his family. Tried to be the perfect wife. Endured insults, hoping his love would stay true.

But in the end, I had only wasted my time.

“Leave!” he shouted.

I was still standing, laughing bitterly.

“Fine. I’d rather sleep on the street than serve the whore you brought into this house.”

My mother-in-law pushed me. I almost fell. I looked at my husband. There was no love left. Only hatred.

My steps were heavy as I walked to the bedroom.

Like a doll with dead batteries.

I packed my things in silence.

Downstairs, they watched me drag my suitcase—without a hint of guilt.

My mother-in-law told me to stay at her house. To serve her.

I rejected the offer outright.

Laughter erupted. Taunts followed relentlessly.

They said I was ungrateful. Reminded me that before marrying Sean, I was a nobody. That without him, I was just a woman from the streets.

But not anymore. I would never lower myself again for a love that only hurt.

I walked to the door.

“Wait!” Sean called out.

I stopped. Even now, my body still obeyed him.

“Don’t take anything. Not even the clothes you’re wearing,” he ordered.

I turned to him, shocked. “You... you’re insane.”

“No,” he replied flatly. “I’m being fair. Everything you have belongs to me.”

The eyes I once looked into with love now looked at me like I was his slave.

My heart shattered. He was truly cruel. Didn’t he have even the tiniest space left to care for me?

My eyes searched the room for help. But no one moved.

They were all watching—enjoying the show.

If my father-in-law were still alive, he wouldn’t have allowed them to humiliate me like this. He was the one who chose me to be Sean’s wife.

But everything changed when he died.

This was their true face.

My hands trembled as I unbuttoned my clothes, one by one. Shame and fear filled me, but I didn’t want to show weakness.

Until I was left in only a tank top and pants. My body shivered. But they laughed. Sean let me stand there, nearly naked—without a shred of pity.

I took the only thing that truly belonged to me: a silk outer adorned with gemstone beads, inherited from my mother. I wore it, trying to preserve what little dignity I had left.

“I want that outer, babe,” Rebecca whined sweetly.

“Give it to her!” Sean commanded.

I kept walking, as if I hadn’t heard. But two bodyguards blocked me. They snatched the outer from me. I screamed, trying to resist.

But I was powerless—in strength, in everything.

Sean draped it over Rebecca’s shoulders. And I could only watch. Collapsed. Helpless.

It didn’t take long. Rebecca peeled it off, grimacing.

“It’s hot... itchy! She must’ve put something in it!” she shrieked.

I moved to grab it back. But Rebecca was quicker—she tore it into pieces.

I picked up the shreds, one by one. As if I were gathering the broken pieces of myself.

“Sean... my hands won’t stop itching. I’m allergic...”

That woman didn’t stop acting. It was obvious there was nothing in the outer.

“You hear that, Lea?! If something happens to Rebecca, you’ll pay the price!” Sean shouted in panic, lifting Rebecca and running out of the room.

As if she were dying.

And in that moment—whether on purpose or not—she stepped on my hand. I screamed. A gemstone cut through my skin. Blood trickled from the gash. But she didn’t look back. Not even a glance.

Rebecca… smiled at me. Full of triumph. Full of deceit.

I slowly stood up, hugging the remains of my mother’s outer like they were the remains of my pride. And I walked out, accompanied by my mother-in-law’s voice behind me.

“She’ll come crawling back. Begging to be accepted. No one else will take her.”

I gave a bitter smile.

I swore—with a heart torn and bleeding—I would never come back.

Not unless it was as the woman who would make them pay for every bit of this humiliation.

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