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I Became The Lunatic's Wife And He Knows I'm Not Her
Last Updated : 2026-10-14
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I woke up in a novel as the discarded wife who dies tonight. My husband, billionaire Adrian Black, is the man the city whispers about—a beautiful, terrifying lunatic who married me for convenience and despises me for clinging. The original wife planned to trap him with a pregnancy. I know that secret gets her killed. So I do the unthinkable. I sign his divorce papers without a single tear, planning to vanish before he ever learns I’m carrying his child. But Adrian doesn’t let me go. He shreds the papers and pins me against the cold glass of his penthouse, his thumb stroking the frantic pulse in my throat. His dark eyes strip me bare. “My wife was terrified of me,” he murmurs. “You look at me like you want to devour me.” He knows I’m not her. He doesn’t know where I came from. But the moment I try to run, he chains me to his bed, determined to map every inch of my body until I confess. He wants to break me, but I know how his story ends. The only question is: can I survive the Lunatic’s obsession, or will I let him burn us both to the ground?
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I Became The Lunatic's Wife And He Knows I'm Not Her Chapter 3 : Her Secret, My Hands
Morning arrived with a headache and a theory.The theory was this: Julian Hale’s weapon wasn’t something he’d stolen from Adrian. It was something the real Vanessa had left lying around. The novel never said how he got the file, only that the secrets read aloud on that stage were hers. Her shames. Her lies. Her humiliating little pleas.Women like Vanessa always keep a record of their misery.I found a breakfast tray outside my door, still warm, with a note in sharp black handwriting: Eat. Both of you.I stared at the last two words until my skin prickled. Both. He could have meant the wife and the stranger inside her. He could have meant something else entirely. Something that made my stomach drop and my thighs press together under the silk of the robe. I ate everything anyway, chewing slowly while my mind raced through the plot of a book I’d skimmed months ago.Vanessa’s dressing room was the size of my old apartment, and every hanger held something beige. Beige silk. Beige cashmere
Last Updated : 2026-10-14I Became The Lunatic's Wife And He Knows I'm Not Her Chapter 2 : Terms and Conditions
“Sit,” Adrian said.He didn’t raise his voice. He never did. The single word simply arrived in the air between us, low and absolute. My knees nearly folded before pride caught them.“I’d rather stand.”“Then stand.” He stepped back, and the space he left felt colder for the absence of him. “But you will listen.”He crossed to the bar with unhurried steps and set down the whiskey he still hadn’t touched. Shredded scraps of the divorce papers crunched under his shoes. He didn’t look at them. In the novel, Adrian Black once had a man’s hand nailed to a boardroom table over a missing decimal point, and he’d worn the exact same expression then that he wore now—calm, remote, faintly interested.“You know who I am,” he said, back still turned.“Everyone does.”“Everyone knows what the newspapers call me.” He turned. Gray eyes found mine across the black marble, pinning me in place. “You knew something else tonight. You walked in here and signed a settlement without reading the figure. Vaness
Last Updated : 2026-10-14I Became The Lunatic's Wife And He Knows I'm Not Her Chapter 1 : The Wife Who Died on Page Three
The first thing I noticed was the smell of antiseptic. The second was that I was not supposed to be alive.My last memory was a kaleidoscope of rain-slicked windows and the glow of my laptop. Three chapters left of a novel I despised from the first page yet couldn't stop reading—The Billionaire’s Obsession. A glossy, bloody thing about a lunatic tycoon and the woman he destroyed. Then headlights. A flash of blinding white. Nothing.Now, I stared at a ceiling I didn’t recognize, an IV taped to the back of a hand that wasn’t mine, and a dull, heavy ache low in my belly that felt like a warning.“Mrs. Black? Can you hear me?”A nurse leaned over the bed, her expression carefully blank with the pity people reserve for women who have done something foolish.Mrs. Black.My heart stuttered, then slammed against my ribs hard enough to bruise.“What’s my name?” My voice came out cracked and thin, a stranger’s throat.The nurse blinked. “Vanessa. Vanessa Black. You were brought in last night af
Last Updated : 2026-10-14
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