My Husband Faked a Divorce with Me for a Rich Girl

Through the narrow crack of the study door, I saw Darien holding Vienna tightly in his arms. She was still pouting like a child in the middle of a tantrum and he comforted her as if he were afraid she might slip away.

I could accept that Darien didn’t love me anymore. Feelings fade—people change. That much, I could live with.

But how could he destroy the Dawson Family?

How could he drive both my grandfather and father to their deaths?

When the Eugene Family was on the brink of collapse, it was my grandfather who extended a lifeline, offering up a third of our family’s capital without ever asking for repayment. He did all that purely because we were all family.

And when Darien failed in business three times, it was my father who helped him back on his feet. He found him a career coach, guided him step by step and spoke to him with patience. He treated him like a son.

Yet Darien repaid their kindness with betrayal. And all for Vienna’s selfish ambitions.

Suddenly remembering that my mother was still behind me, I turned around in alarm.

She was clutching her chest, her face drained of color, her body swaying—she looked like she might collapse at any moment.

I rushed to her side. "Mom! Are you okay?"

Just then, Darien threw open the door, clearly irritated by the noise outside. His eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?"

I met his glare, my hatred surging to the surface like fire.

"Darien Eugene, you killed my grandfather and my father—how dare you show your face? Don’t forget who saved your family from ruin. Without us, the Eugene Family would be nothing!"

"You ungrateful bastard. I must have been blind to ever fall in love with a monster like you!"

And with that, I slapped him hard across the face.

The sting on my palm was sharp. Red finger marks bloomed on his cheek.

"Elodie, are you insane?" Vienna rushed over, pushing me away as she fussed over his swollen face.

What surprised me most was Darien’s reaction. He did not lash out. He was not even as angry as I expected. If anything… there was guilt in his eyes.

I pointed at both of them—my voice trembling, thick with rage.

"And you, Vienna."

"You want Darien so badly? Fine. Take him. Let’s see how sweet stolen love really tastes."

"Your precious Daelan Family could never beat the Dawsons in business, so you lied, cheated and sabotaged. You couldn’t win fair and square, so you stabbed us in the back. But now I know the truth—and I swear, I’ll repay every drop of blood. Tenfold. A hundredfold."

Vienna crossed her arms and scoffed, her expression smug. "Ah, you finally figured it out? So what? What can you do to the Daelan Family now?"

I stared at her perfect little face—and for the first time in my life, I wanted to destroy it.

Thud!

"Ugh! Elodie!" my mother cried out.

Austin had picked up a basketball and hurled it straight at her as he stood there laughing darkly. Just to vent Vienna’s anger, he had actually struck my mother with a basketball.

I dropped to the floor, cradling her limp body in my arms, panic clawing its way up my throat.

"She deserved it," Austin warned, his voice sharp. "Anyone who dares mess with my sister deserves to die. I only hit her once and that’s because Darien still has a soft spot for both of you. Otherwise, neither of you would leave this house alive."

He spun the basketball on his finger, smirking, completely unfazed by what he had done.

I knew I was outnumbered. I had no choice but to run—my only priority now was getting Mom to the hospital.

In the end, Darien was the one who drove us. I sat in the passenger seat, silent for a long moment, then turned to him and asked, my voice bitter.

"You killed my grandfather and my father… and now you’re the one driving my mother to the hospital?" A hollow laugh escaped me. "Don’t you think that’s ridiculous, Darien?"

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles bone-white. After a long pause, he finally said, “Elodie… just know that the person I’ve always loved most is you.”

Heh. What a joke.

So this was what love meant to him? Betraying the woman he claimed to love—again and again—and hurting everyone she cared about?

If this was love, then it was cruel. Hollow. Worthless.

At the hospital, as they wheeled my mother into surgery, Darien stayed by my side. But his eyes kept flicking to his phone, his brows knit in tension.

"Just go," I muttered.

Hearing that, he slowly put down his phone and reached out, trying to pull me into an embrace. I stepped back, avoiding his touch like it burned.

His arms dropped and he stood there awkwardly. "I’m not leaving. I’ll stay here with you."