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The Heiress Married Her Ex-husband's Rival  Novel Cover

The Heiress Married Her Ex-husband's Rival

Ayah Russell gave up everything for love. For ten years, she endured a cold marriage, believing that one day her husband, Ethan Evans, would finally choose her. Instead, he chose another woman-again and again-until the night Ayah lost the child she had kept secret. When betrayal becomes too heavy to bear, Ayah signs the divorce papers and walks away. But fate has other plans. A car accident leaves her with retrograde amnesia, erasing the last ten years of her life. In Ayah's mind, she is still eighteen-the proud heiress of the powerful Russell family, and still deeply in love with her first love. Bryan Mitchell. The man who also happens to be her ex-husband's greatest rival. Seeing an opportunity, Bryan proposes a shocking deal: a marriage that will shake the entire elite circle. Now the heiress who once loved blindly has returned-stronger, fiercer, and no longer willing to be anyone's second choice. But as old memories slowly resurface, Ayah will discover that the truth behind her marriage, her accident, and the people around her is far darker than she ever imagined. And this time... the one who will regret everything might be the man who once threw her away.
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Chapter 2

AYAH'S POV

"Oh my... Who's that? Why are you here with him?" Mia may fool others, but not me. I can see the implication behind her words, sharp and calculated.

"Ayah, explain this to me," Ethan demanded, his voice heavy with authority. I held his hand, but he didn't respond physically. My heart sank.

"Honey, I'm not with him. We- we just ran into each other," I said, trying to steady my voice. "Please... believe me. It's nothing. I accidentally bumped into him, and he helped me with the papers I dropped," I added, desperation edging my words. I was begging him silently, trying to make him understand.

Ethan's eyes bore into mine, trying to process my explanation.

"I understand that... but what are you doing here?" he finally asked. Relief washed over me-I could finally tell him the truth.

"I'm here because-" My words died in my throat as Mia suddenly doubled over, clutching her stomach.

"Ouch... my head and tummy hurt so much," she groaned, clearly exaggerating. And it worked-Ethan's gaze snapped to her immediately. "Ethan... I feel dizzy... I think I'm going to pass out." She staggered, and without hesitation, he released my hand to steady her. His strong arms wrapped around her waist, supporting her.

"Mia, I'll help you get to a room. You need to rest," he said, concern thick in his voice. And just like that, I felt invisible, like the floor itself was pulling me down. My stomach turned, nausea hitting me suddenly.

"Ethan..." I called weakly, but he was already focused on her, speaking to the nurses. Mia, on the other hand, looked back at me with that smug, self-satisfied expression. It was as if she were silently saying, Look-he's all mine. You don't exist.

I wobbled, almost losing my balance, when a familiar arm slid around my waist. I looked up-Bryan. My sudden support drew Ethan's furious gaze.

"What are you doing? Flirting in front of your husband?" His accusation was sharp, and fear clawed at me. Even though I was unsteady, I stood taller, trying to look composed.

"Of course not," I said, voice tight. "I just... felt dizzy. I was trying to call you, but you couldn't hear me." My eyes involuntarily darted to Ethan, who was still supporting Mia, as if my existence didn't matter.

"Bryan, please, go. I don't want any trouble, and I don't want to be associated with my husband's rival," I pleaded, almost on my knees internally. Bryan hesitated, clearly reluctant to leave. I looked at him, eyes begging silently, and finally, with a sigh, he stepped away.

"Ayah, I helped Mia because she's dizzy. She needs me. Don't be childish," Ethan scolded me. Childish? I was watching how deeply concerned he was for his childhood sweetheart while I-his wife-felt abandoned and invisible.

"I need you too, Ethan. I am-" I couldn't finish before he cut me off.

"Enough with your childish tricks, Ayah. Mia needs me more. She's alone here; her family is abroad, her friends are busy. I'm the only one who can be there for her. I hope you understand." His eyes-disappointment, frustration, disbelief-all collided onto mine.

But I need you too... You're the only one I have, I wanted to scream. Silence swallowed me instead.

"Why does she need you? Why can't it be me? Ethan, I'm your wife," I reminded him, my voice trembling, pleading. He only looked at me, jaw tight, fist clenched.

"Ayah, please... don't make a scene. There are too many people watching. She's pregnant-don't be cruel or ridiculous."

Whispers rose around us.

"Maybe the pregnant one is the wife."

"I think she's the other woman."

"Shameless... wanting the man all to herself while the real wife is here."

I searched Ethan's eyes, silently begging for defense. But he didn't speak. Mia held his arm as if to claim him, leaning into his warmth, manipulating him effortlessly.

"No... you need me more, Mia. You're pregnant. We can't risk anything just because she's jealous," he said, finally.

I wanted to scream, What am I to you? But I held back, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"But... they might think I'm the other woman. I... I can't bear the embarrassment. It could be bad for the baby," Mia whispered to him, and Ethan hesitated, swallowing hard, before replying.

"Yes... she's my wife. She's pregnant with my child. Excuse us."

With that, he escorted Mia to the room he had arranged for her.

I remained, watching as my husband-father of my unborn child-took care of his childhood sweetheart. My heart ached with betrayal. My eyes burned, but I refused to let tears fall. Public displays were merciless.

Just as I turned to leave, a voice stopped me cold.

"And you let them treat you like that? This is the life you chose?"

I froze. Slowly, I turned around...

It was Victoria Russell.

My mother.

Her gaze was sharp, unreadable... and I had a sinking feeling that nothing about this encounter was going to be easy.

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