When the Inheritance Plan Failed, He Turned on Me

I had met Sharon five years ago. She had a red birthmark on her left hand, and I remembered it clearly. At the time, she had pressed it in front of me just to provoke me.

"Harry says this birthmark is a sign that only beauties have. Freya, you should keep an eye on him. How can someone so slick be trusted?" she said.

I ignored her and just gave Harry a cold laugh. "She's your childhood friend?"

Harry quickly shook his head. "Just a friend."

I asked again, "A female friend?"

He understood. Not only did he send her away, but he also apologized to me. "I'm sorry, Freya. Back then, we all hung out together, and I didn't even realize she was a manipulative vixen. Now I know. I'll stay far away from her."

He kept his word. For five years, I never heard the name Sharon again, and I never saw her. He stayed faithful. I was the only woman in his life. He played the part so perfectly that I had not noticed a single flaw.

Last month, he had gone to my house with his parents to discuss our wedding. No matter how much they promised that they were only interested in me and not my family's money, Dad insisted that Harry sign a prenuptial agreement before agreeing to the marriage.

"Whether it is property before marriage or earnings after, everything belongs to each of you individually. No shared property. Sign it, and I can confidently marry Freya off to you," Dad said.

For a moment, Harry's smile faltered, but he quickly recovered and agreed.

He had spent seven years carefully setting a trap and playing his part, enduring everything. In the end, he got nothing.

That was why he had gone mad, colluded with his female friend to destroy me in the cruelest way ever, and driven my parents to desperation so he could claim everything he had coveted.

There was no way I was going to let him get away with it. A mudball should stay in the bottomless swamp where it belonged.