Shattered Vows: The Unwanted Wife Returns

The door to the presidential suite at the Plaza Hotel was suddenly pushed open and crashed into the inner wall, the sound of gunfire tearing through the silence of the room.

Julian Carlisle stood at the doorway, his tall figure silhouetted in the hallway lights. He was already wearing his tailcoat shirt, his collar unbuttoned, but the chill he radiated was like a winter storm, not the groom on the eve of the wedding. He held a copy of the New York Post, folding it up to reveal the front page.

He strode through the room and slammed the newspaper onto the antique dressing table—Chloe Sanders was doing her makeup there. The headline was big and crude: "Julian and his true love's final dance." "Under the headline was a blurry photo of him and his ex-partner Ava Kensington being intimate on a yacht months earlier.

Chloe's makeup artist froze, the brush hanging in midair. Her assistant and makeup artist exchanged a glance, both wide-eyed and panicked.

Chloe did not back down. She looked into her own eyes in the mirror, then raised a hand and silently and clearly signaled them to leave. The two ladies hurriedly ran out of the room, gently closed the door, and left the bride and groom in a suffocating silence.

Julian closed in behind her, his shadow devouring her reflection. His voice was low, a dangerous roar that shook the floor.

"That's what you want, isn't it? See your name replace hers? ”

Chloe ignored him. Her hands are as steady as a rock, picking up an eyebrow pencil and using short, precise strokes to fill in the sparse areas of her eyebrows. This deliberate and bland move is a clear rejection of his carefully orchestrated drama—it is tantamount to adding fuel to the fire.

His control collapsed. He grabbed her wrist, his fingers digging deep into her slender bones, forcing her to put down her eyebrow pencil and turn around on the stool to face him. The smell of expensive cologne and anger filled the cramped space between them.

"Answer me." "Trapping me with children from the start—was that your plan?" ”

A sharp pain spread up her arm, but her expression remained cold and indifferent. She stared directly into his angry blue eyes—eyes that would be inherited by their children.

"Julian, the plan is to fulfill an agreement."

She reached for the Hermès Kelly bag beside her with her free hand. Her movements were composed and graceful, sharply contrasting with the rough grip on her other arm. She took out a folded document, flicked her wrist, and pressed it against his chest.

The paper unfolded slightly. The title is printed in a prominent company font, clear and unmistakable: "Gene Health and Offspring Agreement on the Carlisle Family Hereditary Neurodegenerative Disease."

Julian's pupils contracted. This is the deepest and most strictly guarded secret of the Carlisle dynasty—the genetic curse that haunts their bloodline, and the real reason he stands here.

Chloe pulled her wrist back from his loosened grip, a faint red mark already appearing on her skin. Her voice was cold and sharp, like a scalpel.

"My genetic markers are not just compatible—they are a form of healing. That's my value. Pregnancy is proof of this value. ”

Her words stripped away all the disguises of romance and choice, revealing the essence of the marriage: a business deal based on eugenics. Naked truth is even more humiliating than any tabloid headline.

The anger faded from Julian's face, replaced by deeper, more bitter resentment. He searches for cracks in her armor, trying to regain control.

"You could have faked it. All of them. ”

A faint snort without a hint of laughter escaped from the corner of her lips.

"The tests are supervised by your family's own medical team at the Mayo Clinic. Your father, Arthur, has a complete report. ”

The family patriarch—the one Julian could not defy — was the general. He staggered back a step, losing all fighting spirit, leaning against the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking Central Park. He pulled a cigarette from a silver pack and lit it; the smoke briefly covered his handsome yet ruthless face. He was trapped, and he knew—for the family's future, this wedding had to take place.

Chloe stood up and walked toward him. She smoothed the collar of his shirt, her fingers brushing his neck—a gesture filled with shocking wifely intimacy. His body stiffened from her touch, radiating an air of rejection.

She leaned in close to him, her lips pressed against his ear. Her voice was a whisper, yet carried the weight of a guillotine.

"There's one more thing. I know exactly what happened to Ava Kensington in Europe. ”

Julian's muscles tensed up. He stubbed out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes. She had just touched the last bit of his pain.

He grabbed her shoulder, gripping her so tightly it hurt.

"What did you say?"

She didn't avoid his gaze.

"I said, I know your mother, Eleanor, was involved. And I know why Ava has to disappear. ”

This was the doubt he had harbored for years—a terrible question he had never dared to prove—now being spoken out loud by the woman he despised most in the world.

Chloe delivers the final blow.

"So you have two choices. Marry me, and we face it together—your secret will remain safe. Or, you can walk out the door and watch the Carlisle Empire deal with two scandals at once: the gene time bomb and the disappearance of your beloved Ava. ”

His breathing grew heavy, making a rough sound in the silent room. He stared at this calm, beautiful, and malicious woman, feeling completely powerless for the first time in his life.

Finally, his hand fell from her shoulder. He spoke through gritted teeth, every word filled with hatred.

"See you at the altar."

He turned and left, slamming the door shut. The crystal chandelier above trembled, and the prism cast a chaotic rainbow onto the wall.

Chloe stared at the door for a long time. Then, the steel-like control she had maintained finally collapsed. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed beside the dressing table. Her hands trembled so fiercely that she had to clutch the edge tightly to stay upright.