My Ex Thinks I'm Still His ,But I Married a Billionaire

But she turned around and told the teacher I was trying to cheat.

Every time I vented to Gerard about it, he'd get so angry he could barely contain himself. He told me to stay far away from people like that, the kind who repaid kindness with cruelty.

Yet he not only believed her, he canceled our engagement over it.

My adoptive parents took my side at first, comforting me, telling me not to worry. They told me to wait until Leila calmed down, until the investigation cleared things up.

But that wait stretched on for an entire year.

During that year, I was terrified of losing them. I walked on eggshells, did everything they asked, deferred to Leila at every turn, and watched as they slowly stopped noticing me.

Until finally, the disgust in their eyes made it clear they'd decided I was exactly what she said I was: a scheming thief who'd stolen someone else's life.

While I was lost in thought, my phone chimed. A private message from Leila.

I know you saw it. Drop the act. We've been happy together all these years. Don't even think about being a homewrecker.

I scoffed and didn't bother replying.

I tapped into her profile instead. Her account was full of photography content she'd shared. A handful of followers. A low-tier photographer certification, the kind anyone could buy.

I laughed.

Gerard ruined my career to pave the way for yours, and you still can't amount to anything.

Back then, under the weight of their cold stares, I'd earned a spot in an international exchange program through competition alone. I thought that would be enough to win back their affection.

But one week before I was supposed to leave, Gerard took all of my work and reported me to the photography competition organizers, claiming I'd plagiarized Leila's work.

The school and the organizers revoked my exchange spot immediately.

I watched Leila trail behind Gerard, satisfaction and a thin veneer of pity on her face.

I could barely get the words out.

"Why?"

His expression was colder than the day I'd refused to let him follow me around when we were eight.

"She may not be as talented as you, but she works harder. She needs this opportunity more than you do. Besides, if it weren't for what you did back then, she'd be the one with all of this."

"You're the one who stole from her."

In that moment, everything he'd said when he was eighteen felt like a lie.

The rage hit me so hard I collapsed and ended up in the hospital.

When I woke up, Gerard was sitting by the bed. He sighed.

"There's no need for such a dramatic reaction. She said she only wants a career. She won't compete with you for anything else. I'll still marry you. But I have one condition."

"From now on, you can't do any work related to photography publicly. But privately, whenever she needs help, you help her."

His words were vague, but I understood perfectly.

I stared at him, trembling.

"You want me to be her ghostwriter?"

He grunted in acknowledgment.

"You owe her that. That award-winning piece is something she'll never be able to produce in her lifetime. So to make it up to her, you'll shoot for her until she decides she doesn't want to be a photographer anymore."

That day, I destroyed everything in the hospital room like a woman possessed.

It didn't change his mind.

The day before Leila left the country, she came to see me. She was carrying my award, holding my exchange spot, and clutching an offer from the prestigious magazine that had been meant for me. My boyfriend stood beside her as she thanked me.

I snapped. I screamed and hurled everything within reach against the walls.

After Gerard left, I quietly pulled out my phone and drew her into conversation.

She didn't suspect a thing.

She laughed.

"Honestly, I was just jealous of you. So I made up a lie. I never expected them all to actually believe it."

I swallowed the storm raging inside me. After she was gone, I filed an appeal and posted every last word of it on the school's forum.