The Ugly Wife's Glorious Comeback

Genevieve Hayes shot to her feet. "That's impossible!"

Arthur looked just as stunned. "...Isn't there some mistake?"

The Hayes family had built their fortune on the legendary medical patents of Rosalie's mother, Catherine Sinclair. After Catherine's death, the family's influence had steadily declined, and they were now desperate for this alliance with the Sterlings. The marriage could not fail.

And while Rosalie was technically a Hayes daughter, everyone knew Isabelle was their precious girl.

Isabelle's fists were clenched so tightly her knuckles had gone pale. The anxiety was a fire inside her, but she forced a graceful composure. "Dad, Mom, don't worry. There has to be a misunderstanding."

"The system shows a legal registration," the clerk confirmed.

The group crowded around the monitor. There it was on the screen: Damian Sterling and Rosalie Sinclair, legally married. The registration was dated the year before last, filed in Belria, just after Rosalie had turned eighteen.

Arthur and Genevieve froze, speechless.

Isabelle's composure finally shattered. The elegant socialite facade crumbled away completely.

Every head in the room swiveled toward Damian. Terry's expression darkened. "Damian, how did this happen?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" Terry's face flushed with anger. "You registered a marriage with Rosalie and you claim you don't know how it happened?"

Damian lifted his gaze, his eyes landing on Rosalie from across the room. They were cold, detached, and utterly unreadable.

Everyone followed his line of sight, their attention now fixed on Rosalie.

Still reeling, Rosalie gave a small, innocent shrug. "I don't know, either."

No one doubted her. She was the daughter kept hidden in a back courtyard, living in a storage shed. Barely educated, she was considered too coarse and unsightly for the family to ever present in public. How could someone like her have possibly traveled abroad to Belria to get married?

"Someone must have faked this!"

Genevieve spat through clenched teeth. "We can sort out the truth later. We can't delay the ceremony," she said, her voice frantic. "They'll file for divorce right now, and then Damian and Isabelle can register their marriage."

"Yes, yes-the registration is the priority," Arthur echoed hurriedly.

"Damian cannot marry Isabelle." Terry's voice was a final verdict. His tone was grim. "The Sterling family is bound by an ironclad rule. Our men do not divorce. They only remarry if their wifes died. Today, the bride will be Rosalie."

"That's impossible!" Isabelle shrieked.

Her mask of elegance was gone. She lurched to her feet, her eyes red as she screamed, "The entire city knows I'm the one marrying into the Sterling family! If the bride is switched now, how about my reputation?"

Genevieve's loving stepmother act vanished just as quickly. "The wife of the richest man in the city is a position that belongs to our Isabelle! What right does that worthless girl have to any of this?"

Watching the mother-daughter pair seethe, Rosalie found the entire scene deeply amusing.

She had been plotting how to steal Damian away and drive them insane, and now a marriage certificate had practically fallen into her lap. She didn't have to lift a finger. The certificate made no sense, but she had no intention of letting this opportunity go.

With a glint in her eye and a voice like honey, she looked at Damian. "Darling, I'm afraid you'll have to settle for me."

Darling?

That single word made something in Isabelle snap. She lunged at Rosalie with a howl. "You wretch! That's my husband! How dare you!"

Rosalie ducked nimbly behind Damian, gripping his shoulders as she peeked out. "Isabelle, calm down. Remember your precious socialite image."

Isabelle stumbled, her attack missing completely. She was about to lunge again, but those words stopped her cold.

In her rage, she had almost forgotten-she was Bridgeford's top socialite. It was a title that had taken her years to build. She couldn't let one moment of fury destroy it all.

And so, before everyone's eyes, the woman who had been screaming like a madwoman transformed. Her eyes glistened with pitiable tears, her entire being a picture of delicate sorrow. "Damian, you can't abandon me. No one will ever love you more than I do..."

Arthur and Genevieve stared at Damian, their eyes pleading, desperate for him to say something.

Everyone knew Terry was immovable when it came to family rules. That wall would not crack. Their only hope was for Damian to defy the stubborn old man.

Yet the man at the center of it all remained as still as a stone statue-cold, steady, gazing down at the chaos with an air of regal indifference.

He glanced at Rosalie, who was still gripping his shoulders, then looked away, his expression blank. "I am the Sterling heir. I must set an example. I cannot defy the family decree."

The color drained from Genevieve and Isabelle's faces. They both swayed, looking faint.

Arthur turned to Terry, his voice thick with anxiety. "Mr. Terry Sterling... this..."

Terry Sterling glanced at Rosalie, taking in her garish, poorly applied makeup, then at Damian in all his commanding brilliance. He let out a quiet sigh.

His grandson deserved better. But the family decree was absolute.

"Arthur, I owed your father a debt of honor. That is why I agreed to this union. But the betrothal never specified which of your daughters. Rosalie fulfills the agreement. You are still giving us a daughter-it makes no difference. Do not ask me to break my family's code."

No difference? It was a world of difference!

Arthur was filled with bitter resentment, but he didn't dare argue with Terry. He could only bow his head in defeat.

And with that, the bride swap was settled.

Rosalie took Isabelle's place and stepped into the wedding gown.