Crown Up! From Discarded Wife To Unrivaled Empress

On her birthday, Coralie Lloyd stepped out to buy herself a modest cake, but a sudden cloudburst trapped her halfway there, with no cab willing to stop. With nothing else to do, she ran back home through the rain. By the time she made it back, it was nearly midnight, and she was drenched to the bone, water threading down her hair in steady streams. The moment Coralie entered the living room, she found Vanessa Spencer waiting—mother of her husband Sebastian Spencer—staring at her like she was something unpleasant dragged in from the street. Vanessa's eyes swept over Coralie's bedraggled state; she drew back in open contempt and barked, "Why can't you stay at home properly instead of wandering around in the middle of the night? If Sebastian's grandmother hadn't taken pity on you, do you really think someone like you would ever belong in the Spencer family? It's been a year and a half since the wedding and you still haven't had a child! Is this how you repay her generosity?" Coralie had heard Vanessa's poison often enough that it no longer startled her. She reached for a towel on the sofa, started blotting the water from her hair, and answered evenly, "We've been married for eighteen months, and Sebastian hasn't been home in a long time. In that situation, how exactly am I supposed to get pregnant?" Vanessa gave a harsh, icy snort. "Call Sebastian home right now. You're his wife—there's nothing wrong with doing what it takes to keep your husband happy." Coralie had no interest in sparring with her, so she kept her attention on her phone, scrolling without looking up. In the eighteen months since the marriage, she'd swallowed more than enough of Vanessa's contempt. While Vanessa's complaints kept grinding on, Coralie's fingers stilled on the screen. Lilliana Wells had just posted on social media. "Sudden downpour, but thank goodness someone always shows up when I need them most." In the corner of the photo, a black Rolls-Royce appeared—one Coralie recognized at once as Sebastian's car, the only one of its kind in the country. Lilliana's father had died in an accident while saving Sebastian, and ever since then, the Spencer family had treated Lilliana like something priceless. She and Sebastian had grown up together, childhood friends bound by a relationship that never quite fit into an ordinary shape. Air seemed to tighten in Coralie's chest, and she said to Vanessa, "If you want a grandchild so badly, tell Lilliana to give you one." "What garbage are you talking about! If Sebastian's grandmother hadn't insisted he marry you, you wouldn't have had a chance in your life!" Furious, Vanessa snatched up a ceramic vase and flung it straight at Coralie. Coralie wasn't prepared; she couldn't move fast enough. The vase struck her head and exploded across the floor. Pain stung her eyes with tears, but thankfully the vase was small, and there were no cuts, no blood. It would have been unbearable to be left disfigured on her own birthday. Vanessa stared at her and said icily, "Instead of arguing with me, why don't you learn how to win your husband's heart back?" With one last contemptuous snort, Vanessa turned away and left. Only after the door slammed did Coralie seem to come back to herself. She looked around the empty living room, and the loneliness pressed in harder than before. Last year, on her birthday, Sebastian had thrown her an extravagant party, kissed her deeply in front of everyone, and looked at her as if she were the only thing he could see. He'd loved her with a heat that didn't bother to hide itself—bright and fierce, like a flame that refused to be contained. They said the eyes were the windows of the soul, and Coralie had been certain that, in that moment, she lived somewhere inside his heart. She had fallen for him, grateful that even a marriage of convenience could still hold something real. But the love that had arrived so quickly vanished just as fast, and in the end, it left only her standing there alone. Her phone rang, and she saw an unfamiliar number. Without thinking, she rejected the call, but it rang again. She answered, and the voice on the other end demanded at once, "Hello, are you Mr. Spencer's wife? We're calling from Harmony Hospital. Mr. Spencer was in a car accident and has been admitted…" Lilliana's post flashed through Coralie's mind, and she cut the doctor off and said, "I'm sorry, I'm busy. Call his girlfriend." If Lilliana enjoyed all the benefits of being at Sebastian's side, then she could carry the burden, too. The doctor's tone sharpened. "No. Mr. Spencer is bleeding heavily and could be in immediate danger. We need a close family member to sign the surgical consent form." The words struck Coralie like a bolt of lightning, and her heart tightened with sudden fear. She answered quickly, "I understand. I'm coming." She hated him, but she had never wanted him dead. Sebastian was infuriating, yes, but he didn't deserve to die. ... Coralie didn't even stop to change. By the time she reached the hospital, her soaked clothes had half-dried on her, clinging in wrinkled, miserable patches that made her look worse than some of the patients. She grabbed at a nurse and asked, voice urgent, "Excuse me, where is Sebastian Spencer—the one just brought in from a car accident..." Before she could finish, Coralie's gaze slid past the nurse and into the corridor not far away. The rest of her words lodged in her throat, and she went rigid, stunned into silence. Sebastian was seated on a hospital bench, while Lilliana crouched beside him, pressing his hand to her cheek.