The Bride He Cast Away on Their Wedding Night
In the glittering world of high society and cutthroat ambition, a single sentence shatters a marriage: "Let's get a divorce."
For three years, Claire Thompson has lived in exile, her marriage to the powerful Nelson Cooper a hollow shell existing only on paper. Shipped abroad on her wedding day and utterly forgotten, she returns only to be handed divorce papers. But Claire is no longer the timid, heartbroken girl she once was. Behind her quiet facade lies a woman transformed, secretly rejoicing at her newfound freedom.
However, freedom comes with a price. As Claire signs the papers with relief, a chilling phone call reveals a dark truth: the threats she faced overseas were no accident, and the trail leads shockingly close to home-to the family that raised her and the husband who discarded her.
Just as she prepares to sever all ties, a twist of fate pulls her back into the gilded cage. Nelson, for reasons unknown, suddenly stalls the divorce. Meanwhile, the family that disowned her and the fragile, manipulative sister who stole her life are determined to ruin her reputation and drive her out for good.
But Claire is playing a different game now. With a mysterious new identity, powerful allies, and secrets of her own, she is no one's pawn. As hidden truths unravel and loyalties are tested, a stunning question emerges: In this high-stakes battle of love, betrayal, and revenge, who is truly trapping whom?
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Chapter 3
The front door eased open, and Claire stepped out.
Her gown faded from a pale, translucent white-blue at the shoulders to a deep lake blue at the hem. It was beautiful-elegant even-but obviously ill-fitted. The waist hung too loose, and the bodice slipped unless she held it steady. So she did, one hand at her side, steps small and measured.
Nelson's gaze lingered.
It wasn't the dress he'd pictured, not on her. But somehow, despite the poor fit, it suited her-sharp, cool, distant. A far cry from the quiet, uncertain girl he used to know.
"Get in," he said, looking away. "Front seat this time."
Claire frowned, "Isn't that Serena's usual spot?"
Nelson's hand tightened slightly on the wheel. "Serena won't mind. Just get in-we're already late-just get in."
Claire looked at him, her tone even. "Maybe she doesn't. But I do."
She paused. "Actually, I've been thinking... maybe I shouldn't go at all. Pretty sure she doesn't want me there. And with a crowd like that, one less won't be missed."
Then, seriously, she turned around like she was ready to head back.
"Claire!" Nelson's tone sharpened-he wasn't hiding his frustration. He leaned in and hit the horn. The sharp sound made her freeze mid-step.
"Fine," he muttered. "Sit in the back if you want."
Claire let out a tired breath, kept her back to him for a moment, then turned back calmly. She opened the back door without another word and got in, a little clumsy thanks to the loose dress. She carefully swept in her skirt before closing the door.
Nelson pulled away in silence.
After a while, Claire spoke. "Nelson, how are things... with Serena?"
The car jerked to a sudden stop.
Claire yelped as her body pitched forward, her forehead hitting the back of the front seat.
Nelson caught himself quickly, then glanced back through the rearview mirror.
Claire was sitting back up, one hand over her forehead.
"Sorry," he said first, easing the car forward again at a gentler speed. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Claire pulled her hand away-her forehead was a little red. She didn't look at him again, just turned slightly and pulled the seatbelt over her shoulder. Then she looked away, staring out the window.
They drove on, the silence creeping in again.
Then Claire asked, softly, "Is her condition... manageable now? I mean-seeing me isn't going to trigger anything, right?"
"She's fine," Nelson said after a beat, his voice clipped. "You don't need to worry."
"Good," Claire murmured.
Of course she wasn't worried about Serena. She just needed to be sure.
Tonight... might be the end of everything.
After about half an hour, the car stopped in front of a brightly lit mansion.
The Thompson residence-the place Claire had lived for twenty years-now felt as unfamiliar as a stranger's home.
Claire unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out without hesitation.
Nelson was already out, striding ahead toward the lawn where a crowd had gathered.
Tall, composed, eyes fixed forward-he drew glances effortlessly.
Claire carefully lifted the ends of her oversized pale blue dress and stepped out of the car.
She took a deep breath and tried to follow Nelson at a steady pace.
But just as she was about to catch up, Nelson stopped and turned.
Facing her, in full view of the crowd, he said aloud, "Claire, come here."
In that instant, the chatter and laughter on the lawn dimmed noticeably.
Heads turned. Curious eyes followed her.
Then the whispers began-low, sharp, and venom-coated.
"So that's the one the Thompsons raised by mistake."
"Didn't they say she was shipped overseas? Why's she back now?"
"Ugh, look at that dress. clearly doesn't fit. Who even gave it to her?"
"She stole someone else's life for twenty years-then tried to steal the fiancé too. And now she dares show her face?"
"Nelson looks like he was forced to bring her. What a disgrace."
Every word, laced with contempt and glee, slid straight into Claire's ears.
She gripped the hem of her dress a little tighter but kept her expression calm.
Holding her head high, she walked toward Nelson.
Just as she was about to reach him, the music from a white grand piano in the center of the lawn stopped.
Serena stood from the piano, dressed in an elegant floor-length white gown.
Her makeup was flawless, her long hair smooth and flowing, with a sparkling diamond necklace catching the light perfectly.
It was only now that she seemed to notice Claire. Her face lit up with the perfect amount of surprise.
Then she gracefully walked over to her.
"Claire?" Serena's voice was soft and full of warmth. "Is it really you? When did you come back? You didn't even let us know. Mom and Dad were so worried!"
She reached out to take Claire's hand in a friendly gesture.
But Claire smoothly stepped back, choosing not to engage, though a gentle smile appeared on her lips. "I got back last night. I already spoke to Aunt Elena this morning-maybe she forgot to mention it."
Serena acted as though she missed the subtle distance in Claire's words and simply kept smiling, now even more brightly, like some cheerful kid, "Well, I'm glad you're back. It's been so lonely without you these years. I really missed you!"
Before Claire could respond, Serena threw her arms around her in a big hug.
Claire froze.
The cloying sweetness of Serena's perfume wrapped around her like smoke.
From the outside, the embrace looked warm, affectionate.
But her arms were tight-too tight. Claire could hardly breathe.
Then, right next to her ear, Serena whispered, voice cold and laced with sarcasm, only for Claire to hear:
"That dress. doesn't seem to fit you well at all, does it?"
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7.7
"Tristan! Help!" I called out his name again. It was not a scream but a command.
He didn't even flinch. "You know the rules, Juniper," he said, his voice fearfully calm. "I don't touch you. Don't use a fall to trick me into breaking those rules."
....
But this mess is over.
I'm done playing love with him. I'm returning to the Vangough seat. And as for the man who was allergic to my touch, he's just about to find out how much it hurts when I finally let go-and take my empire with me.
Tristan wants a divorce. But I'll give him a battle he will never be able to endure.
8.0
That's it, baby girl. Take Daddy's cock like the good little slut you are." My boyfriend's father had me bent over his desk, hand wrapped around my throat, splitting me open with his thick cock while my boyfriend was on the line.
* * *
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9.3
I sacrificed my dream career for my fiancé, only to find him cheating with his older investor-a betrayal that led to my mother's death.
He reached a new level of cruelty when he dumped my mother's ashes in the trash and conspired to have my wedding dress disintegrate off my body at the altar.
I vanished for five years, building a new life with a new family, but now he's found us-and just saved my daughter's life to force his way back in.
9.7
I was seven years into a perfect relationship, engaged to the man who helped me overcome my fear of commitment. I was even secretly pregnant with our first child.
A pet-sitting gig led me straight into the heart of his betrayal-a luxury apartment he shared with his mistress of a year. She had hired me personally to discover it all.
She then framed me for stealing the family ring he had promised me. At the police station, my fiancé rushed in not to defend me, but to shield her.
When I confronted him, he shoved me. Hard.
I hit the floor and lost our baby.
In the hospital, he had the audacity to beg for forgiveness, promising we could just "try again."
I saw the guilt in his eyes and used it. I made him sign over every asset we owned as penance. The moment the money was mine, I vanished. He thought he was buying my forgiveness.
He was funding my revenge.
9.3
After eight years in captivity, I was finally rescued. I thought it was the beginning of a new life with my mother.
But she didn't even look at me. She ran into the arms of a handsome stranger, her real husband, and I was treated like a dirty secret from her past.
They called me a contamination, a reminder of their trauma. My new stepsister set their Doberman on me, and as the dog's teeth sank into my arm, I looked up and saw my mother watching from the window.
She met my eyes for a second, then slowly closed the curtains.
In that moment, the last bit of hope I had died. The shallow bond of family was completely gone, and I finally gave up.
But they made one mistake. The family patriarch, suspicious after a car accident, ordered a secret DNA test.
The results came back on the day of my stepsister's birthday party, revealing a truth that would burn their perfect world to the ground.
9.3
Candice Luna thought her marriage to Julius Hansen was a lifeline to save her father's struggling company.
She didn't know it was a death sentence until Julius coldly slid divorce papers across his mahogany desk.
His true love, Amina Rowe, was nestled in his arms with a triumphant, mocking smile. The "merger" Julius promised had been a brutal, hostile takeover designed to bleed the Luna Group dry from the inside. Bankrupted and utterly broken, Candice's father stepped off the roof of their corporate tower. Meanwhile, Candice was publicly humiliated, stripped of her dignity, and mocked by all of Wall Street as a discarded stepping stone.
She died in a car accident, her final moments consumed by an agonizing, feral scream. She hated herself for letting her blind devotion destroy the father who had always believed in her.
But when Candice opened her eyes to the harsh fluorescent lights of a hospital room, she realized she wasn't dead.
She was twenty-two again. Three years before the wedding. Three years before her father's suicide.
When Julius's assistant walked in holding a bouquet of blue roses to discuss the preliminary merger, he expected a docile, desperate heiress.
Instead, Candice grabbed a glass of water from the nightstand and flung it directly into his smug face.
"Tell Julius Hansen to never, ever send his dogs to my door again."
This time, there would be no engagement. This time, the Hansen family would choke on her family's legacy.