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Married Ten Years, Replaced In One Night Novel Cover

Married Ten Years, Replaced In One Night

After a decade of agreeing to a child-free marriage, a sudden social media update from abroad shatters a twenty-year love story. The photo reveals a wife, visibly pregnant, embraced by another man with two identical boys by their side. A dismissive phone call confirms her cold detachment. Staring at an old abdominal scar—the reminder of blocked fertility treatments—the devastating reality of her long-term betrayal finally comes to light, breaking a heart once filled with devotion.
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Chapter 2

“He runs his trading company; you have your tech research and production; there’s no clash between you two.”

“Besides, I did it for our family. Your health isn’t the best, you can’t have children, and the Ellison Group is such a large company that it needs an heir, doesn’t it? Evander is tall, handsome, and a top university graduate. What’s wrong with me giving birth to an outstanding successor for the Ellison name?”

I stared at Reese in disbelief. Had I not seen her with my own eyes, I would’ve thought someone had swapped out her soul.

We had known each other for twenty years, yet I had never realized her values had rotted this far. Had she been poisoned by some twisted view of love and family?

My chest heaved. The scar on my lower abdomen, the one I got shielding her from a bullet, still flared up on rainy days. And now, she tossed it aside as if it meant nothing.

On our wedding night, she had clutched my hands and promised we would live a child-free life, swearing I would never have to endure the pain of surgery. Her solemn vow still echoed in my ears.

And now, she spoke of an heir like it was some noble mission?

Just as I was about to speak, the phone rang sharply, slicing through the silence.

Reese glanced at the screen and immediately rose to her feet.

"I’ve been on a plane all day. I’m exhausted. I’ll sleep in the other room tonight," she said, patting my shoulder lightly. "You should get some rest, too."

She turned slightly, her voice softening as she looked at me.

"Darling, I know this is hard to swallow all at once. But we’ve known each other for twenty years, been married for ten, and weathered so much together. I do love you; please try to understand me."

Unwilling to let her go like that, I reached out and caught her wrist.

"Get rid of the baby," I pleaded. "Let’s have our own child… okay?"

She froze for a breath, then suddenly shook off my grip, her face flushed with fury.

"Matteo, I never thought you could be so heartless! He’s already six months old, and he is moving inside me. How can you even say that? He’s alive, he’s real!"

Just as her voice trembled with anger, her phone rang again.

She shot me a glare before picking up the call.

A soft, milky voice came through the speaker, full of childish grievance. “Mommy, brother took my ice cream again. Daddy said to call you.”

Reese’s expression lit up in an instant. Her tone softened into something sweet and coaxing.

“Be good, Sebastian. When Mommy gets there, I’ll buy you more ice cream, alright?”

Then came a man’s voice, deep, gentle, and tinged with affection. “Darling, it’s okay. They just miss you too much. And I miss you too.”

“What should we do?” he chuckled lowly, a helpless kind of warmth in his voice. “We’ve only been apart for one day.”

Reese glanced my way, then turned her back and walked toward the bedroom. Even though she lowered her voice, every word still reached my ears, clear as day.

“Alright, alright, baby. Didn’t I say? One week at most, and I’ll be back.”

“Honey, next time, don’t post on my Instagram…”

“Hmm. I’m not mad, really. Just remember to keep it hidden next time. Love you.”

I collapsed onto the couch like a puppet with its strings cut.

A wave of invisible needles pricked at my chest, not sharp but steady and suffocating. The pain didn’t scream, but it spread slowly, tightening around my ribs until I couldn’t breathe.

Reese and I had grown up side by side. We were the classic childhood sweethearts — everyone knew we’d end up together.

When I was twenty-two, I had just returned from studying overseas when tragedy struck. Uncle Benedict and Aunt Ophelia died suddenly in a car crash.

With the company left without a leader, her uncles and cousins circled like vultures, all eager to snatch a piece of the Ellison Group. Within a month, the capital chain collapsed, and half the clients vanished without a trace.

Back then, Reese clung to me like a lifeline, her voice trembling in fear.

“Brother Matteo, what do I do? What should I do?”

At that turning point, I knelt before her in front of the entire company and proposed.

I promised her I would never touch a single share of the Ellison Group. I swore that if we had children, they would bear the Ellison surname, not mine.

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