On Our Wedding, He Sent Me to Prison to Save His Mistress

On her wedding day, Helena fell from a glamorous bride to a despicable criminal—cuffed and handed over to the police by the very man she had trusted as a husband.

After three years, the day she was released, she limped on an injured leg, stumbling and dragging herself toward Jackson's house.

The door was slightly ajar.

From inside, Shawn's amused voice drifted. "Jack, Helena is out of prison today. Are you really planning to hold the postponed wedding next month? If you hadn't forged the evidence and sent her away three years ago, she'd be Professor Hamilton's prized student by now—her future would've been limitless."

"A reformed convict? What future could she possibly have?" Jackson's voice was cold, emotionless.

"The promise to marry her after she got out was nothing more than a lie to comfort her—a way to make her go to prison willingly and clear the path for Laica."

Helena froze as if struck by lightning. The words landed like knives, each one slicing her open.

"You're indeed ruthless," Shawn said, almost admiringly. "You stole her research and handed it to Laica. You even told the prison guards to break her leg."

"Now she's a cripple and a criminal—she'll never be able to compete with Laica again." Shawn clicked his tongue with relish.

Helena's mind went blank, her world collapsing in an instant.

Forged evidence? Broke her leg?

All of that... was Jackson's doing?

She covered her mouth and bit down hard on the back of her hand to keep from making a sound, but her tears fell uncontrollably, like strings of pearls snapping apart.

"Professor Hamilton only accepted one student. Helena's talent surpassed Laica and he clearly favored her, so she had to step aside."

The words were spoken so casually, yet they crushed Helena's world to dust.

Shawn's tone turned suggestive. "Still, Helena's face and figure—even after three years in prison, she's stunning. And technically, you two are still husband and wife, right? You could..."

"Wife?" Jackson let out a cold laugh. "That marriage certificate from three years ago was fake."

"I never intended to marry her."

Helena's whole body began to tremble violently. A sharp, metallic taste rose in her throat, and she nearly lost her balance.

Fake...

Even the wedding she had treasured so much was nothing more than a carefully orchestrated lie.

Back then, she had cut ties with her family and stayed in Boston for him, but all she got in return was pain and betrayal

Hands trembling, she dialed a number she hadn't called in years. When the line connected, she held back sobs and forced her voice steady. "Brother... I was wrong to stay in Boston for Jackson. I want to cut him off completely. I'm going to slowly withdraw our family's investments from his company!"

On the other end, Henry's voice was steady. "Leave the divestment to me. The emigration paperwork will take at least seven days; I'll send the flight details to your phone."

"Great," she said, sniffling. "One more thing—help me look into the Jordan family daughter's academic fraud and that kidnapping from three years ago. She destroyed everything I had. Now, I want to destroy them."

"I'll get everything sorted and send it to you before you leave," he answered.

After she hung up, Helena took photos of the research she'd hidden for years and sent them to her brother. She then removed the engagement diamond ring and tossed it into a trash bin with a decisive motion.

Three years ago, she had been framed, trampled, stripped of everything. But now, she would not leave without a fight.

'Jackson—you ruined everything I had. Now it's my turn to ruin you.'

—

On her wedding day, Helena fell from a glamorous bride to a despicable criminal—cuffed and handed over to the police by the very man she had trusted as a husband.

The wail of sirens ripped the wedding's romance to shreds.

Dressed in white, clutching Jackson's hand as if that grip could anchor her, Helena shook her head with everything she had left.

Her makeup was ruined; tears and despair streaked her face.

"It wasn't me—believe me! Jackson, I didn't hurt Laica!" she cried.

Jackson's eyes were cold as ice. He pried her fingers apart one by one with deliberate force. "The evidence is solid. Laica was assaulted—the law cannot bow to sentiment," he said, as if reading from a ledger. "Three years in prison is nothing. When you get out, we'll remarry."

Those three years became a nightmare she could never fully forget—countless beatings, sleeping in filth, humiliation that carved itself into her bones.

On the day she was released, she limped on an injured leg, stumbling and dragging herself toward Jackson's house.

The door was slightly ajar.

From inside, Shawn's amused voice drifted. "Jack, Helena is out of prison today. Are you really planning to hold the postponed wedding next month? If you hadn't forged the evidence and sent her away three years ago, she'd be Professor Hamilton's prized student by now—her future would've been limitless."

"A reformed convict? What future could she possibly have?" Jackson's voice was cold, emotionless.

"The promise to marry her after she got out was nothing more than a lie to comfort her—a way to make her go to prison willingly and clear the path for Laica."

Helena froze as if struck by lightning. The words landed like knives, each one slicing her open.

"You're indeed ruthless," Shawn said, almost admiringly. "You stole her research and handed it to Laica. You even told the prison guards to break her leg."

"Now she's a cripple and a criminal—she'll never be able to compete with Laica again." Shawn clicked his tongue with relish.

Helena's mind went blank, her world collapsing in an instant.

Forged evidence? Broke her leg?

All of that... was Jackson's doing?

She covered her mouth and bit down hard on the back of her hand to keep from making a sound, but her tears fell uncontrollably, like strings of pearls snapping apart.

"Professor Hamilton only accepted one student. Helena's talent surpassed Laica and he clearly favored her, so she had to step aside."

The words were spoken so casually, yet they crushed Helena's world to dust.

Shawn's tone turned suggestive. "Still, Helena's face and figure—even after three years in prison, she's stunning. And technically, you two are still husband and wife, right? You could..."

"Wife?" Jackson let out a cold laugh. "That marriage certificate from three years ago was fake."

"I never intended to marry her."

Helena's whole body began to tremble violently. A sharp, metallic taste rose in her throat, and she nearly lost her balance.

Fake...

Even the wedding she had treasured so much was nothing more than a carefully orchestrated lie.

Shawn burst into laughter. "You really outdid yourself! But Helena's real strength is her research. What a waste to let that go, huh?"

Jackson tapped the table once, twice—a slow, clinical rhythm that landed like a hammer on Helena's chest. "She doesn't need to know the truth about three years ago. From now on, she'll stay at home, quietly clearing the way for Laica's work. She'll be nothing more than Laica's stepping stone."

Those words were the last straw. Helena couldn't listen any longer. She spun on her heel, and stumbled out like someone running from a fire. The pain in her injured leg stabbed with every step, but it was nothing compared with the ache in her heart.

She could not believe the man who once took a bullet for her and almost lost his life—the man she thought loved her—had been plotting her ruin from the start. The marriage certificate was fake; there were no legal ties to hold her. Leaving would be easier than she'd feared.

She ran back to the marital suite she had designed three years earlier and unlocked the secret safe in the basement she had installed herself. Inside lay the fruit of years of effort—all the research she'd poured her life into and the proof that she had quietly financed assistance to the Cabrera Group.

Those research papers held everything she had ever been proud of—the sum of her dreams, her youth, her life's purpose.

With trembling hands, she dug up a number she hadn't called in years and dialed. When the call connected, a low male voice answered, "Who is it?"

Hearing it broke her. The tension she'd carried for three years unraveled in a flood of grief and fury.

"It's me," she said, voice cracking. "Brother... I was wrong to stay in Boston for Jackson. I want to cut him off completely. I'm going to slowly withdraw our family's investments from his company!"

On the other end, Henry's voice was steady. "Leave the divestment to me. The emigration paperwork will take at least seven days; I'll send the flight details to your phone."

"Great," she said, sniffling. "One more thing—help me look into the Jordan family's daughter's academic fraud and that kidnapping from three years ago. She destroyed everything I had. Now, I want to destroy them."

"I'll get everything sorted and send it to you before you leave," he answered.

After she hung up, Helena took photos of the research she'd hidden for years and sent them to her brother. She then removed the engagement diamond ring and tossed it into a trash bin with a decisive motion.

Three years ago, she had been framed, trampled, stripped of everything. But now, she would not leave without a fight.

'Jackson—you ruined everything I had. Now it's my turn to ruin you.'