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The Hideous Wife Is A Billion-Dollar Princess Novel Cover

The Hideous Wife Is A Billion-Dollar Princess

Leyla sacrificed her beauty to save Kristopher, only to spend three years trapped in a cold, loveless marriage. The final blow comes when she learns the vitamins he gave her were actually contraceptives, while he showers his returning first love with money. She demands a divorce and walks away with nothing—until her real identity emerges: the cherished daughter of a royal-level dynasty, protected by three powerful brothers. On the very day of her divorce, a limo arrives, and her second brother restores her scarred face to its former radiance. At her first banquet, her stunning entrance leaves the room in shock. Kristopher, who never once looked at her, is blindsided—and for the first time, he feels the sharp bite of regret, desperate to win her back.
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Chapter 1

At the hospital, Leyla Thorpe tightly clutched her test results as she handed them to the doctor. "Am I pregnant?" she asked, her voice tinged with hope.

The doctor scanned the report, his brows knitting together. "Of course you're not. You've been taking birth control regularly. There is no way you could get pregnant."

A wave of cold swept through Leyla.

Birth control?

Every month after they slept together, her husband, Kristopher Gordon, would give her what he claimed was a multivitamin pill.

He would always say, "You're too fragile. You need to take better care of your health."

For three years, she had been touched by his thoughtfulness.

Only now did she realize the truth—he had been giving her contraceptive pills.

An invisible hand seemed to squeeze the air from Leyla's lungs, making it hard for her to breathe. Trembling, she pulled out her phone and called Kristopher.

The call went unanswered.

Just then, a breaking news notification popped up on her screen.

The bold headline read, "The Gordon Group CEO Kristopher Gordon Spends 100 Million on 'Angel's Heart,' Winning It at an Auction for His Girlfriend!"

Leyla stared blankly at the words, her pupils contracting.

Beneath the headline was a photo taken at the auction.

Dressed in a tailored black suit, Kristopher sat in the front row. His sharp features and composed expression gave him an air of effortless elegance.

He was looking at the woman seated beside him, his attention fixed entirely on her.

She wore a pale yellow evening gown, her long hair flowing over her shoulders, while a faint smile softened her delicate profile.

It was Phoebe Brooks—Kristopher's friend since childhood.

She had gone overseas to study three years ago and, according to rumors, had only recently returned.

Leyla blinked against the burning sensation in her eyes, yet there were no tears in them.

A hollow laugh escaped her lips.

She found the situation ridiculous.

Phoebe was the woman Kristopher truly cherished, while she was nothing more than the wife he had hidden away from the world.

Three years ago, when Kristopher had been in danger, she hadn't hesitated to shield him.

She had taken a knife meant for him, getting her face ruined in the process.

Even as the blade sliced through her skin, she never cried out in pain.

Afterward, he had promised to marry her and take care of her for the rest of her life.

True to his word, they had become husband and wife.

Yet throughout their marriage, he remained consumed by the heartbreak of Phoebe leaving the country.

For three long years, she devoted herself to being the perfect wife, believing that one day, he would finally notice her devotion, understand her suffering, and perhaps even come to love her.

She had foolishly believed that having a child might finally bring them closer.

Instead, he had quietly made sure she would never have that opportunity.

Now, watching him openly shower another woman with affection, she finally accepted the truth. His heart had always belonged to someone else.

There had never been a place for her in it.

The realization tore through Layla bit by bit, each moment more agonizing than the last.

She made up her mind. She was going to divorce him.

***

Leyla returned to Prime Estate, her home with Kristopher.

The moment she walked through the front door, the housekeeper, Helen Miller, approached her with a frosty expression. "Mrs. Gordon, you're becoming quite impossible. You've stayed out for so long."

Though she was only the housekeeper, she had taken care of Kristopher since he was young and had always considered herself above the rest of the household staff.

Leyla knew exactly why Helen dared to speak to her so disrespectfully; Kristopher allowed it.

In the past, desperate to win Kristopher's affection, she had gone out of her way to please everyone around him.

But not anymore.

Leyla's palm struck Helen's face with a sharp slap, her voice as cold as ice. "You're nothing more than a servant. What gives you the right to speak to me that way?"

Helen covered her burning cheek, staring at Leyla in stunned disbelief. "H-how dare you hit me? I practically raised Mr. Gordon, you know! You should show me some respect!"

"I am his wife," Leyla shot back, every word crisp and unwavering. "Whatever your history with him may be, you're still a paid employee of this household."

Helen shook with fury but didn't dare utter another word.

Without sparing her another glance, Leyla turned and headed upstairs.

Behind her, Helen muttered venomously, "What's there to be so proud of? Now that Miss Brooks is back, it won't be long before she becomes Mr. Gordon's wife."

Leyla paused for the briefest moment when she heard that.

Even the housekeeper knew who truly held Kristopher's heart.

It seemed everyone knew except her.

For the past three years, she had been the only fool deceiving herself.

But none of that mattered anymore.

She was the one choosing to leave Kristopher now.

Back in her bedroom, Leyla opened the wardrobe and pulled out a small suitcase she had prepared long ago.

After three years of marriage, everything she owned fit inside this single suitcase.

Her gaze swept across the room.

She had personally decorated every inch of it, yet not a single thing truly belonged to her.

Pressing her lips into a thin line, she scrolled to a phone number she hadn't called in years. She tapped the call button and lifted the phone to her ear.

"I want to go home now."

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