Husband and Sister’s Betrayal

On my wedding day, my arranged fiancé abandoned me and chose my sister Emily instead.

In that devastating moment when I became everyone's laughingstock, my business partner James Crawford shocked everyone by publicly proposing to me in a grand romantic gesture.

After marriage, because of his sweet words and gentle persuasion about "good wife’s role," I gradually stepped back from the spotlight, handing over my core resources and connections piece by piece for him to manage.

Using excuses like "I want to protect you" and "I want to give you stability," he gradually transformed me into a kept woman dependent on him.

Meanwhile, his company soared from an unknown startup to a rising star in the capital markets, built on the foundation I had provided.

When I became pregnant, he protected me even more carefully, treating me like fragile porcelain. I thought my hardships were finally over.

That day, feeling the baby's first clear movement in my womb, an indescribable joy overwhelmed me. I couldn't wait to share this miracle with him. Clutching my ultrasound report and brimming with happiness, I went to his office to surprise him.

I stood outside his office door, my hand unconsciously resting on my belly, feeling that faint new flutter of life. Just as I was about to push the door open, I heard Emily's flirtatious voice from inside, along with James's familiar but strangely tender whisper:

"I've only ever loved you." James's voice carried a passion I'd never heard him use with me. "Marry her? I was only after her investment skills and connections. I've squeezed almost everything valuable out of her by now, and she's so compliant—just a useful money-making machine."

"Now that she's pregnant, even better." His tone was coldly calculating. "With this child tying her down, she'll be even more devoted and easier to control. Once I'm fully established and get my hands on the last of her assets, she'll be worthless."

The words from inside were like poison daggers, instantly shattering all my joy and warmth. My hand went cold and stiff against my belly. The baby's movement that had thrilled me moments before now only brought waves of nausea and bitter coldness.

All that gentle affection had been a carefully woven cage, and even this child was just another chain to bind me.

Seeing Emily's face still looking somewhat petulant, James smiled and pulled her close, whispering soothingly:

"Come on, don't be jealous over nothing. I'm only good to her to keep her content and dependent." His tone was casual. "Especially now with the baby, she'll only be more obedient. Just wait a little longer. Once I get the last of her trust fund and patent rights, I'll be completely free."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out an elegant jewelry box. The lid sprang open, revealing a pair of glittering earrings nestled in velvet—exactly the designer pieces I'd seen in a magazine and secretly admired, worth five million dollars. I had mentioned them once, but he'd frowned and said the company's funds were tied up in critical projects, and we needed to watch our household expenses.

The so-called "critical project" was luxury gifts for Emily. He was draining my resources to spoil his mistress while I had been carefully budgeting for his so-called "career."

James took Emily's hand and gently fastened the earrings on her, his tone indulgent: "You mentioned these before. I bought them for you."

Emily's expression immediately brightened, touching the earrings with a smug smile: "I knew you loved me most."

James chuckled softly and leaned down to kiss her. Soon after, the sound of rustling fabric and urgent breathing came from inside the room.

I stood frozen outside the door, my fingernails digging painfully into my palms. The sharp pain couldn't match the hollow ache carved out in my chest. It felt like a cold wind was howling through my heart.

I was no longer a partner standing beside him, but just a caged bird being drained of value.

Even this long-awaited child was just another tool in his plan to control me.

The "happiness" I had carefully cherished was nothing but a complete, calculated deception.

I stumbled home, not even having the strength to turn on the lights. My legs gave out, and I curled up on the sofa, shivering uncontrollably.

My stomach churned, my head spun, and tears fell silently. I didn't even have the strength to lift my hand to wipe them away. The baby seemed to sense my distress too, moving restlessly. This interaction that had once brought me joy now only deepened the irony and agony.

The sound of the door lock turning echoed—James was home.

He crouched down in front of me, his gaze sweeping over my furrowed brow and curled-up legs. His brow immediately creased with apparent concern: "Are you having leg cramps again? Does it hurt badly?"

Without waiting for my answer, those well-defined hands that I had once seen as my salvation were already expertly covering my calves. His palms were warm, massaging with perfect pressure, gentle and practiced, as if he had rehearsed the motion countless times.

"Pregnancy cramps are rough," he said while massaging, looking up at me with eyes full of tenderness deep enough to drown in. "Just bear with it. I'll massage them and you'll feel better."

I stared hard at this mask of gentle consideration, as if trying to see through the facade to the cold calculation beneath.

A person could really perform deep affection so flawlessly.

Two years ago, at my wedding, my fiancé eloped with Emily. To protect Emily's reputation, my parents made Emily take my place as the bride and made me bear the blame as "the mistress."

It was James who appeared like a savior, proposing to me publicly amid the mockery. What he valued then was surely the resources and potential I still controlled.

After marriage, I gave in step by step, handing over the resources and connections I held, willingly becoming a housewife focused on managing his life.

When I became pregnant this year, he held me and said this was "a gift he'd hoped for so long," his eyes so tender they seemed to envelop me completely. That tenderness was just to control me more securely.

I blinked softly, suppressing all the surging hatred and cold plans, letting a faint, tired smile appear on my lips.

"I'm fine, just a little tired. The baby was very active today." My voice was soft and sweet, with just the right amount of weariness, completely convincing.

He visibly relaxed, comforting me gently: "Good girl, rest well. Tomorrow we'll go pick out some baby things together."

Fine. I'll play along with this charade.

Seven days.

Seven days would be enough to calculate exactly how much I'd been forced to "transfer" over these years. Seven days would also be enough to activate some contingency plans that only I knew about—ones he had overlooked.

After seven days, this performance he had been directing would end by my hand, and I would collect everything back.