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Someone Else Will Put a Ring on Me Novel Cover

Someone Else Will Put a Ring on Me

Lisa, the secret daughter of the world’s wealthiest man, spent six years helping Lance Hartley build his empire from nothing. Just as he reaches the pinnacle of success, he publicly discards her to propose to a famous actress, claiming Lisa lacks the status to be his wife. Crushed by his betrayal, Lisa finally abandons her facade and agrees to an arranged marriage set by her father. However, when her true identity is revealed and she prepares to wed another, a desperate Lance returns to beg for her forgiveness.
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Chapter 2

I couldn't sleep.

No matter how hard I tried to force myself, sleep evaded me. My mind kept conjuring images of Lance and Ella together.

Even though I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I knew he must be holding her with the utmost tenderness, comforting her. In the end, I simply got up and started packing my things, preparing to leave.

…

The next day, I was jolted awake by noises coming from the room next door. Irritated, I got out of bed.

When I opened the door, I saw the maids moving out a piano while chatting amongst themselves.

"Are we really throwing this piano away? What if Ms. Cooper asks about it?"

"She's leaving anyway. Why should we care?"

"Exactly. The new Mrs. Hartley is moving in soon, and this room needs to be converted into her walk-in closet. Everything has to go."

My heart clenched, and I stepped forward to stop them. "Don't throw it away!"

But Lance grabbed my arm and said carelessly, "It's just a piano. Just get rid of it. You can buy a new one abroad."

My brows furrowed slightly, disappointment flashing in my eyes. He had completely forgotten that this was the birthday gift he got me with his very first paycheck.

I had always treasured it, but apparently that didn't matter anymore. I lowered my eyes, pulled my arm free, and took a deep breath before agreeing. "Fine. Throw it away then."

His gaze remained indifferent, and his tone was cold as he added, "The house also needs to be cleared out for renovations. Your ticket is booked for three days from now, so you need to move to a hotel in the meantime."

I stared at him in shock, not expecting him to kick me out so quickly. His gaze was serious, without a trace of warmth. To him, I was probably nothing more than a pet he had grown tired of.

When the maids drove me away, my mood was still heavy. Watching Lance stand at the entrance, personally overseeing the renovations and utterly invested in his wedding preparations, I smiled bitterly.

A searing pain spread through my chest, as if someone were jabbing needles into my heart over and over, bleeding me dry.

The car stopped halfway up the mountain. I looked at the driver in confusion just as the door was yanked open from outside. Two bodyguards roughly dragged me out.

Seeing Ella standing by the roadside with an arrogant air about her, I suddenly felt uneasy.

She was beautiful and alluring—the kind of woman who was born to be a star. It was no wonder Lance had been in love with her for so many years.

When she saw me, she looked me up and down with obvious contempt.

"Lance was right. You're nothing special. Just a plain, homely woman who can never fit into high society. No wonder he's only ever treated you like a plaything even after all these years you spent by his side."

I frowned, responding in displeasure, "Well, I guess you'll be the plaything now."

Her expression darkened, and she slapped me across the face.

"You're nothing but a shameless woman, while I'm the one he truly loves. You'd better be smart and disappear forever. Don't ever show your face in front of us again."

My cheek stung sharply, and my eyes turned cold. Without hesitation, I slapped her right back.

She froze, clutching her face before shrieking in fury. "You hit me!"

Ella raised her hand to strike me again, but I shoved her away. She stumbled back several steps and lost her balance, falling to the ground.

Furious, she pointed at me and barked at the bodyguards, "Hit her! Hit her hard!"

As the bodyguards raised their hands menacingly, I shouted sternly, "I'm still Lance's woman. Do you dare to lay a hand on me?"

The bodyguards hesitated.

Just then, Lance came running over and helped Ella up from the ground, his face full of concern.

"Ella, are you hurt?"

Ella bit her lip pitifully and held out her hands, scraped raw by the rocks, for him to see. His expression immediately darkened, and his sharp gaze swept toward me.

I opened my mouth to explain, but before I could speak, his hand swung through the air and struck my face hard.

"They might not dare to hit you, but I do!"

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