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

Cecelia Graham sat there, numb. Her eyes were red and swollen from a night of crying; her fingers ached from writing for hours straight. Her mind was foggy, teetering on the edge of passing out. When the first light of dawn crept through the window, it gently nudged her awake.

The moment Cecelia opened her eyes, she reached into the nightstand drawer, grabbed every ID she had, and stuffed them into her pocket. She packed nothing. She’d come alone, and she planned to leave alone.

Before leaving, she clutched the signed statement tight. She took one lingering look at the room she’d called home for ten years, then turned and headed downstairs.

Halfway down the spiral staircase, she saw Margot Cook curled up against Marshall Robinson, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It was the first time Cecelia had ever seen them like that—so intimate. Their relationship was solid. Even if the wedding had been called off, it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

For a moment, Cecelia froze. Then her heart went cold, and a desperate urge to escape nearly swallowed her whole.

“Oh, Cecelia, you’re up!” Margot’s voice rang out, smugness threaded through every word.

Cecelia hesitated, thoughts tangling, then finally said, “Thank you, Margot.”

Hearing Cecelia call her “Margot” pleased Margot—but it left Marshall unsettled.

Cecelia walked over to Marshall and handed him the signed statement. “You wanted it in writing. Here it is.”

Marshall glanced at the statement covered in corrections, and irritation surged through him. He’d never seen her so compliant. She rarely finished anything unless he was watching over her.

Margot snatched the statement and read it aloud, stoking the irritation building inside him.

“Marshall, Cecelia actually signed away any claim on you. How sweet,” Margot said.

“She even wished us eternal happiness.”

“Should we forgive her, then?”

Marshall’s face darkened. He headed toward the dining room, leaving the decision to Margot.

Margot smirked at his silence, leaned provocatively toward Cecelia, and whispered, “I’ve got your fate in my hands. Scared?”

Cecelia gritted her teeth. It felt like being dragged into a dark, murky abyss—drowning.

She watched Margot return to Marshall and lace her fingers through his—a perfect picture of bliss.

Of course. When it came down to a fiancée versus an adopted sister, he’d choose his fiancée every time.

“Aren’t you coming to breakfast?” Marshall’s authoritative voice echoed, sending a shiver down Cecelia’s spine. She hurried into the dining room.

She sat quietly, eating without a word. When Marshall noticed she only touched the oatmeal and ignored everything else, his irritation boiled over. He slammed down his spoon and left.

Margot let out a cold laugh. “Looks like Marshall doesn’t even want to eat at the same table as you anymore.”

The words cut deep, but Cecelia held her composure.

She kept her head down, eating her breakfast in silence, ignoring Margot’s provocations.

Once they were gone, Cecelia looked up, listless, ran through her plans one last time, and headed for the door.

“Miss Graham, where are you going?” The bodyguard stepped in front of her.

Cecelia had nowhere to go. Friends? She’d lost them all a year ago; no one wanted her around. Family? She was an orphan, and even her brother, Marshall, was lost to her. Relatives? The Graham family wanted nothing to do with her.

She smiled bitterly and offered the excuse she’d prepared.

“My clothes are outdated. I want to shop.”

The bodyguard, whose job was to monitor her around the clock, immediately called Marshall for approval before escorting her out.

At the mansion’s entrance, Cecelia paused for a moment. Then she climbed into the car without looking back.

The familiar road was etched into her memory. It was as if she could still remember exactly how she’d arrived.

Marshall had brought her here, holding her hand, promising she’d have a home and a family.

But she’d thrown it all away.

No. There was no going back.

Her thoughts snapped back to reality when the car stopped. She stepped into the extravagant shopping center.

The bodyguard followed closely as she stepped into a boutique.

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Graham!” Romina Elliott sneered, her eyes filled with contempt and amusement.

“How dare she show her face in public? Isn’t she embarrassed?”

“She has zero self-respect and absolutely no shame!”

“Ha ha ha... the audacity is astounding.”

Cecelia ignored the cruel remarks. They were nothing compared to the pain of the past year.

She glanced at the designer bags without interest, selected several, and handed them to the bodyguard. “Pay for these.”

The bodyguard frowned but made another call to Marshall.

“Mr. Robinson, Miss Graham wants to buy bags. Should I pay?”

Marshall paused, remembering Cecelia didn’t have her phone to pay for herself—it was with him.

“Let her buy whatever she wants,” Marshall replied.

The bodyguard used the authorized card Marshall had given him and purchased the bags for Cecelia.

Seeing Marshall willing to spend so lavishly on Cecelia made Romina seethe. “Cecelia Graham, how can you shamelessly spend Marshall’s money?”

Cecelia glanced at Romina coldly, picked up five more bags, and handed them to the bodyguard. “I’ll take these, too.”

Everyone in the shop stared, eyes wide in disbelief at Cecelia’s audacious display of wealth.

“Bitch! Just wait until I tell Margot,” Romina shouted, snapping pictures of Cecelia with her phone.

The name “Margot Cook” landed like a demon’s curse. Cecelia’s eyes darkened. She wouldn’t give Margot another chance to hurt her.

Without another word, Cecelia let the bodyguard pay and moved on to other stores.

Clothing boutiques, skincare shops, jewelry stores...

She bought item after item, seemingly indulging in a revenge-spending spree, but she was only creating a distraction.

The bodyguard kept swiping the card, looking more alarmed with every purchase, astonished by Cecelia’s reckless spree.

Within a few hours, she’d run up a staggering bill.

Marshall truly indulged her—his “let her buy” attitude was costing him dearly.

While waiting for Cecelia to change, the bodyguard noticed her exiting the boutique in new clothes and promptly went to pay.

At the lingerie shop, the bodyguard waited outside.

Cecelia had shopped lavishly all morning, but none of it brought her joy—only caution as she observed the bodyguard from inside the store.

She picked several sets to try on, occasionally peeking at the flow of people.

When a crowd entered, she swiftly changed—out went the white pants and green sweater, leaving her in tight black leggings and a gray long-sleeved tee.

Taking the makeup she’d just bought from her bag, she quickly applied a disguise.

Darkened her complexion, accentuated shadows, thickened her lips, crafted smoky eyes...

Adding a bucket hat, she transformed completely.

In ten minutes, she was unrecognizable. She blended in with the shoppers leaving the store and slipped past the oblivious bodyguard.

Just as the bodyguard glanced back to find her, she was already gone, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.