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The Wife You Left Became the Queen You Fear Novel Cover

The Wife You Left Became the Queen You Fear

To save her dying grandmother, Raven Slyvia takes another woman's face and enters a six-year contract marriage with the feared Benedict Karsov. He constantly casts her aside for his true love, Maeve, ignoring his substitute wife. But when Raven finally leaves, she is no longer helpless. Reclaiming her birthright as the hidden daughter of a mafia king, she watches Benedict's empire crumble. When he begs for her love, she vows to bury his lies forever.
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Chapter 8

Benedict’s jaw clenched. “Ours. She and I are having a ceremony. But don't worry, it was you whom I love most.”

Maeve’s face fell, but she forced a smile. “I get it. You only said yes to save me. I’m not upset.”

She turned to me, syrupy sweet. “Miss Linwood, let me help you pick the dress. It’s the least I can do.”

She followed me to every fitting like a shadow. In the boutique, she fussed over every inch of fabric. Pulled collars higher. Complained about hemlines. Picked gowns that made me look like a porcelain doll instead of a woman.

I stayed quiet, played the part, let her dig her own grave.

After the final fitting, she dropped the act.

“You’re good. Real good,” she hissed, slamming me against the fitting room wall. Her nails dug into my wrist. “You pretend to be cold but you’ve been playing this long game, haven’t you? You think you’re gonna steal him from me?”

I didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.

Because the truth was worse than whatever she imagined. But she didn’t stop. She started stirring things again.

The night before the wedding, Benedict burst into my room, eyes wild. “You locked Maeve in the fitting room! Fuck, Alodia."

I blinked at him, exhausted. “No.”

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice dropped, dangerous. “She has claustrophobia. You trying to kill her?”

Before I could say another word, he dragged me up by the arm and shoved me out the door.

“Put her in the basement,” he barked at the guards. “No food. No lights. Let her think about what she’s done.”

They threw me in the dark. Cold. Damp. Reeking of mold. I sat in the corner with my knees to my chest, waiting for the hours to pass. But somewhere after midnight, I heard something.

Rustling. Scratching.

Then I saw them.

A bag of live rats tossed in through the vent.

I screamed. Kicked. Pounded the door until my nails split open. No one came.

The next morning, Benedict finally opened the door. “All that noise for nothing?” he scoffed.

I couldn’t even stand. My face was pale, lips trembling. “Maeve... she put the rats in.”

He looked me dead in the eye. “Maeve wouldn’t do that.”

He flipped the switch. The lights flickered on. The room was spotless.

“No rats here,” he said. “Stop lying.”

I stared at him. Silent.

He turned away like I was dirt on his shoe. “The wedding’s in Six days. I’ll be with Maeve until then. If you screw this up... it’s off.”

He didn’t look back.

I sat on the floor, wrists bleeding, heart colder than the basement. I should’ve known.

No matter what I did, I was always disposable.

But not for long.

Benedict left the basement without looking back. His heavy boots echoed down the hallway until I couldn’t hear them anymore. I waited a few more seconds just to be sure he was gone before I pressed my hand against the cold wall and pushed myself up. My legs were shaky, but I didn’t fall.

I stayed locked in my room. Curtains drawn. Doors shut. I didn’t step outside, not even once. I only ate when I had to, and even then, just a few bites of whatever the servants left on the tray.

And today's the sixth day… I went to the wardrobe and pulled out the suitcase I’d packed days ago. I sat on the edge of the bed and looked around. Six years in this place and now I couldn’t find a single reason to stay.

At the airport, my Mrs. Linwood was already waiting.

She didn’t greet me. Just handed me an envelope and a bank card.

“One hundred million. No more. No less. Go. Don't ever show yourself.”

My hands trembled as I took the card.

“Thank you “

“You did what you were supposed to do,” she said coldly. “You kept the peace between the families. That was your job. Now it’s over.”

I turned toward the security gate.

I clutched the plane ticket and kept walking. I didn’t look back again. For the first time in years, I wasn’t walking on eggshells. I was walking toward something that might finally belong to me.

Somewhere far away, far from him. From them.

Somewhere I could finally be free.

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