My Adoptive Brother Betrayed Me, So I Married His Worst Enemy

“Margot!” Marshall Robinson rushed to Margot Cook’s side, his face tight with worry. “Are you okay?”

Margot winced and bit down on her lip. Her voice trembled. “It hurts so much! My ankle… These heels are killing me.”

Romina Elliott whirled on Cecelia Graham, furious. “You little troublemaker! We should send you back to that place and make sure you never get out.”

Not back there. Not that nightmare.

Fear slammed into Cecelia. She dropped to her knees in front of Margot Cook, head bowed, desperate.

“Miss Cook, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

“Please don’t send me back. I’m begging you…”

Her apologies came out broken by sobs. Everyone went still.

Was this really the once-proud, defiant Miss Graham?

Even Marshall froze. It hurt him to see his sister humiliate herself like this. He took a deep breath, then spoke—firm, but gentle.

“Cecelia, get up.”

“Marshall, it’s all my fault! I won’t do it again. Please, just give me another chance.” Cecelia pleaded, clutching the hem of Margot’s dress as sobs shook her whole body.

She couldn’t go back. Those instructors would torture her to death.

Margot Cook watched with quiet satisfaction. When she spoke, her voice was smooth, soothing.

“Marshall, maybe Cecelia’s just overwhelmed by our wedding. Maybe she should talk to someone in psych?”

Cecelia froze. She glared at Margot, the truth hitting her all at once: no matter what she did, Margot would crush her. And Marshall was buying every lie.

Pathetic. Her life had turned into some cruel joke.

“Marshall, won’t you believe anything I say?”

“Is Margot’s word the only one that matters to you?”

Her voice was thick with helpless despair, edged with bitter self-mockery.

Marshall’s anger flared. “Fine. If you still haven’t learned your lesson, then take Margot’s advice. You need psychological help.”

Cecelia’s eyes filled with anguish. Then she coughed up blood and collapsed.

Chaos exploded. Screams filled the room as she lay unconscious in a pool of her own blood.

“Cecelia!” Marshall rushed to her, horror in his eyes. “Get her to the hospital—now!”

“Marshall, today is our wedding!” Margot tried to hold him back, desperate not to have another ceremony ruined.

Marshall’s eyes were fierce. His voice left no room for argument. “Move.”

After being rushed to the hospital, Cecelia slowly opened her eyes after emergency treatment. Her head throbbed as she tried to focus on Marshall.

“Marshall…”

Marshall hadn’t slept. He kept his anger carefully buried. His voice was calm but firm. “Why did you ruin the wedding again?”

Ruin the wedding? The memories crashed back. Cecelia clutched his hands, terrified.

“Marshall, I didn’t mean to ruin your wedding.”

“Please, don’t fall for Margot Cook’s lies.”

“I’m in danger.”

“She’s deceiving you. She bought off the instructors. They tortured me day and night—starved me, beat me…”

“Cecelia, are you making up stories just to stop my wedding?” Marshall shook her hands off, disappointment written all over him. “You’re hopeless.”

“I’m not lying! She sent me to a lawless black-market compound in Myanmar. They used electric shocks when I disobeyed. They tortured me with medieval methods. They even took one of my kidneys…”

Applause echoed from the doorway. Margot Cook stepped in.

“Cecelia, how can you spin such tales about Myanmar?” she said, her smile serene as she slipped her arm through Marshall’s. “If you were really sent there, how did your brother get you back so easily?”

Marshall’s gaze hardened on her.

Fear flickered through Cecelia. “I’m not lying. Have me examined. I really lost a kidney…”

“From now on, you’ll be under constant surveillance,” Marshall announced, turning to leave.

“No!” Cecelia ripped out her IV and tried to follow him, terrified of being locked up again.

Security guards moved in, blocking her. There was no escape.

All she could do was watch as Margot led Marshall away. Margot’s triumphant smile was a taunt, her victory thrown right in Cecelia’s face.

Yes. She had lost again.

If she had known her fate, she would never have followed Marshall ten years ago.

Mary said gently, “At least you’re okay now. Please, don’t make trouble for Mr. Robinson anymore.” She couldn’t bear to see the two children she’d raised hurt each other like this.

Cecelia froze for a moment, then closed her eyes in pain. “Mary, I…”

She wanted to say she had given up.

But no one would let her.

“Mr. Robinson canceled the wedding for you, stayed by your side all night, and now he’s gone back to the family estate to face his relatives.”

Cecelia fell silent, unsure what to say.

Mary handed her a medical report, resigned. “This is your health report. Mr. Robinson has seen it.”

Like grasping at straws, Cecelia read each line. Test results for nearly everything. Even her kidneys.

Every result came back healthy.

Desolation spread through her. This was Margot’s handiwork.

She must have bribed the doctors.

No wonder Marshall didn’t believe her.

During her time in Myanmar, electric shocks had been routine. Disobedience meant having her nails pulled out—one wasn’t enough, so they pulled another. She’d become a regular blood donor…

Beyond the physical torment, there was the psychological trauma: being forced to watch girls her age endure brutal abuse until they died. Methods so horrific they left her scarred deep.

She thought she had endured enough punishment. But she never foresaw losing a kidney, going into renal failure, and being left with less than five years to live.

After two days in the hospital, she returned to the home where she’d lived for ten years, ready to pack her things and leave. She might be doomed, but she refused to die at Margot’s hand.

No sooner had she walked in than she saw Marshall’s parents and Margot. Dread tightened her chest.

Then Abigail Robinson unleashed her fury.

“You ungrateful brat! I should’ve stopped Marshall from bringing you here. Then he wouldn’t be the laughingstock of the entire city.”

“Marshall treats you like a real sister, and you repay him with such nasty intentions. Why don’t you just vanish?”

The insults pierced Cecelia’s heart all over again.

“Cecelia, for your parents’ sake, I can overlook last night. But you must leave today,” Marshall’s father said icily, making his meaning crystal clear.