LOGINShare
Chapter Seven: The Glamour and the Gossip
Last Updated:
2026-01-25 23:03:54The invitation for Yunshan’s annual charity ball arrived in a cream envelope sealed with gold wax, the Hargrove family crest pressed into it like a brand. The event was the highlight of the season. politicians rubbing shoulders with old-money heirs, businessmen sealing deals over champagne, socialites posing for Weibo flashes. Every year, the Hargroves hosted the most coveted table, a silent declaration of their untouchable status.
This year, Rosa had outdone herself. She’d spent weeks coordinating dresses, seating charts, and photo opportunities. The house buzzed with her orders, flowers delivered by the dozen, caterers tasting menus in the kitchen, stylists trailing through the halls with garment bags. I watched it all from the edges, invisible as always. The morning of the ball, Alex walked into my room without knocking. I was at the vanity, brushing my hair in slow, mechanical strokes, still in my silk robe. The mirror reflected a woman I barely recognized. “You’re not coming,” he said, voice flat as slate. My hand stilled on the brush. “Excuse me?” “The ball. You stay here.” He didn’t look at me directly, his reflection in the mirror adjusted his cufflinks with precise flicks. “People will ask questions. I don’t want to answer them.” I set the brush down, turning slowly. “I’m your wife.” “In name only.” He met my eyes then, cold and unyielding. “You’re a liability, Elena. One wrong word, and the whispers start. I won’t have it.” “So I’m a prisoner now?” My voice stayed even, but inside something cracked. He stepped closer, looming. “You’re forbidden from leaving the gate. Mrs. Thorne has orders to lock it if you try. Don’t test me.” The room felt smaller, the air thicker. I searched his face for anything, regret, hesitation, even anger that might mean he cared. “Why do you hate me this much?” I asked quietly. He paused at the door. “Because you remind me of everything I lost. And you’re still here.” He left. The door clicked shut like a verdict. I stood at the window and watched them go. Alex in his tailored black tuxedo, shoulders straight, jaw set. Rosa in emerald silk that caught the sunlight like broken glass. Lucas, still on crutches but dressed sharp, laughing at something Rosa said. Cousins, aunts, uncles, extended family piling into the fleet of black cars, voices bright with excitement. They drove away in a convoy, leaving dust. The house felt hollow without them. Mrs. Thorne brought tea, set it on the table without a word. I didn’t drink it. That night, I scrolled through Weibo on my phone, the glow lighting my face in the dark bedroom. Photos flooded in real time. Alex smiling beside a famous painter, arm around the man’s shoulder like old friends. Rosa laughing with a cluster of socialites, diamonds flashing at her throat. Lucas posing with a group of young heirs, crutches artfully hidden behind him. Group shots of the entire Hargrove clan, grandparents, siblings, cousins, all beaming under the chandeliers. Not one included me. The comments rolled in like a tide. “Who’s the mystery wife everyone keeps mentioning? Never seen her at events.” “Alex Hargrove married? Where’s the girl? Invisible bride alert.” “New money drama? Or did he buy her and stash her away like a dirty secret?” I closed the app, chest tight. But the notifications kept coming, tags, mentions, screenshots. I reopened it. A gossip blogger had cornered Rosa at the ball. The video played automatically. The woman thrust a mic forward. “Mrs. Hargrove, where’s your new daughter-in-law? Elena, right? Everyone’s dying to meet her.” Rosa smiled, perfect and practiced. “Elena? Oh, darling, she’s out of the country right now. Family emergency. She’s heartbroken she couldn’t make it. We’re all missing her terribly.” The lie was smooth, effortless. The blogger nodded sympathetically. “Of course. Sending her our best.” The clip ended. Comments exploded beneath it. “Family emergency? Sounds like code for ‘we’re hiding her.’” “Out of the country already? Girl just got married and she’s gone? Sketchy.” “Maybe she’s the one who cheated. Heard rumors.” By morning, the lie had metastasized. Headlines screamed across Weibo, Douyin, every platform “Elena Hargrove Cheats on Billionaire Husband with Secondary School Lover. Sources Say She’s Out of the Country in Shame!” Photos surfaced, blurry, obviously edited. A woman who looked vaguely like me in a café with a man, laughing. Hotel receipts dated weeks after our wedding. A grainy, pixelated shot of two bodies in a bed, faces obscured but hair color matching mine. None of it was real. I had never left the house. Never touched another man. But truth didn’t matter. The narrative did. The internet tore me apart. “Ungrateful gold-digger. Married for money and still cheating.” “She sold herself to pay family debts and still couldn’t stay faithful.” “Alex deserves better. What a kind husband to forgive her.” “Poor guy. Imagine marrying that.” I sat on the floor of my bedroom, back against the bed, phone in both hands. Tears streamed silently as I scrolled. Every swipe was a fresh wound. Hashtags trended: #ElenaCheats #HargroveScandal #InvisibleBride. Memes appeared, my wedding photo photoshopped with devil horns, captions like “Bought but never loyal.” Hours passed in a blur of notifications. Alex came home late, past midnight. The door opened quietly. He stood in the threshold, still in his tuxedo jacket, tie loosened. He saw me on the floor, phone glowing, face wet. “You saw.” I looked up, voice hoarse. “Everyone saw.” He stepped inside, closed the door. “It was easier this way.” “Easier?” I stood slowly, legs unsteady. “You let them call me a whore. You let your mother lie to the world.” He shrugged, almost casual. “Rosa handled it. The story protects the family. Protects the business.” “Protects you,” I corrected. “Not me.” He crossed his arms. “You think I wanted this? The questions? I told you, you’re a liability.” I took a step toward him. “I’m your wife. Not a secret to be buried.” “In name only.” His voice hardened. “You signed the papers. You knew what this was.” “I knew you hated me,” I said. “I didn’t know you’d let the world destroy me to keep your image clean.” He laughed. “The world was going to destroy one of us. Better you than me.” I slapped him. The sound cracked through the room. His head snapped to the side. For a second, shock flashed across his face, real, unguarded. Then rage flooded in. He caught my wrist before I could strike again, grip bruising. “Don’t.” I yanked free, breathing hard. “You’re a monster.” “And you’re nothing,” he said, voice low and lethal. “A thing I bought. A thing I own. Don’t forget that.” He turned and walked out. The door closed softly behind him. I collapsed back to the floor, sobs tearing out of me. The phone kept buzzing. More notifications. I curled into myself, arms wrapped tight around my knees. The glamour of Yunshan’s elite world had never included me. 
Latest chapter
Married to the man who despised me Chapter Eighteen: Sophia’s Studio
Sophia woke to the sound of rain tapping the loft’s skylight. It was soft at first, then steady, the kind of rain that made the city feel smaller, quieter. She stayed in bed a moment longer, staring up at the glass ceiling where water slid in slow rivers. The sculptures around her looked different in the gray light, less angry, more tired. She liked them better that way.She got up, pulled on an old cardigan over her T-shirt, and walked barefoot to the kitchen corner. The kettle hissed as she filled it. While it heated, she opened the window just enough to let the damp air in. It smelled like wet concrete and distant coffee. She liked that smell. It reminded her she was still here, even if everything else felt like it had cracked open.The kettle clicked off. She poured water over green tea leaves in a chipped mug. No sugar. She never took sugar anymore. Too sweet felt dishonest.She carried the mug to the workbench. The piece she had been working on for weeks sat there unfinished, a
Married to the man who despised me Chapter Seventeen: The Call from Home
Elena had been living in the small rented room above the tailor’s shop for nearly three weeks. The space was narrow, the walls thin enough to hear the sewing machines buzzing all day, but it was hers. No Rosa. No Alex. No echoing hallways filled with judgment. She spent her mornings reading on the tiny balcony, afternoons walking the market, evenings cooking simple meals on a single burner. It wasn’t freedom exactly, but it was breathing room, and she clung to it.The phone rang on a Tuesday afternoon while she was boiling rice. She almost ignored it. The number was her mother’s. She stared at the screen until it stopped, then it rang again. She answered.“Elena.”“Mom.”A pause. Then the familiar sharp tone. “You need to come home tomorrow. Bring your husband.”Elena set the spoon down. “Why?”“Your father’s sick. The doctors want family here. All of us. Including him.”Elena closed her eyes. “He’s not going to come.”“He has to. This is family. You’re still married, aren’t you?”Ele
Married to the man who despised me Chapter Sixteen: The Quiet After
Elena walked down the hallway without looking back. Her footsteps were soft on the carpet, deliberate, like she was measuring each one. The suitcase was light in her hand, only a few days' worth of clothes, her notebook, the book she had been reading the night before. She didn’t need much. She never had. Rosa appeared at the top of the stairs, arms crossed, mouth already open. Elena didn’t slow. She passed her without a glance. Rosa’s voice followed, sharp and low. “Where do you think you’re going?” Elena reached the front door. Opened it. Sunlight poured in, bright and indifferent. “Out,” she said. “You can’t just leave.” Elena paused on the threshold. Turned slowly. Looked at Rosa.The woman who had called her worthless. The woman who had spread the lie that broke everything. The woman who had watched her son destroy her and called it protection. “I can,” Elena said quietly. “And I will.” Rosa stepped forward. “You signed a contract. You belong here.” Elena smiled.“I signed
Married to the man who despised me Chapter Fifteen: The Weight of Return
Dawn found Alex still walking. The city had begun to stir: delivery bikes cutting through alleys, street vendors setting up carts, the first buses groaning awake. His shoes were heavy with water from the night’s rain, socks soaked, but he didn’t stop. Every block felt like punishment he deserved. Every step away from Sophia’s loft was a step toward the house he wasn’t sure he still belonged in.He paused once, around four in the morning, on a bridge overlooking the river. The water was black and still. He leaned on the railing, breath fogging in the cold, and tried to remember the exact moment he had decided to marry again. The words had come out of his mouth at the dinner table like they belonged there. Second wife. Sophia. Simple. Clean. As if love could be rewritten like a contract clause. He stayed on the bridge until the sky turned pale blue. Then he started walking again.By eight thirty he was only a few streets from home. His legs ached. His shirt clung to his back wit
Married to the man who despised me Chapter Fourteen: Midnight Apologies
The cab smelled of old leather and rain. Alex stared out the window as Yunshan’s lights streaked past, neon bleeding into puddles. He didn’t go home. Home was the last place he could face. Instead he tapped the address again, Sophia’s loft, and told the driver to go faster. Twenty-three minutes felt like three hours. When they pulled up to the brick warehouse, the street was empty except for a stray cat hissing at its own reflection in a puddle. He paid the driver double, climbed the metal stairs two at a time. The door was half-lit by the lamp inside, warm gold spilling over the threshold like an accusation. He knocked. It opened almost immediately. Sophia stood barefoot, hair twisted up, wearing that same oversized T-shirt from the first night. Now it looked smaller, like the memory had shrunk it. Her eyes were puffy but dry. She crossed her arms. “I knew you’d come.” “I didn’t mean to.” “Stop.” She stepped aside, let him in, but didn’t close the do
Married to the man who despised me Chapter Thirteen: The Gallery Encounter
The art gallery opening was one of those events Yunshan pretended mattered more than it did. White walls, soft lighting, waiters carrying champagne flutes on silver trays, people murmuring about brushstrokes and meaning as if they understood either. Elena had come because Alex asked her to. Not in the pleading way he used to avoid, but in the quiet way that had started after the yacht. He had simply said, “I’d like you to come with me,” and she had nodded. She still didn’t know what the nod meant, only that refusing felt like closing a door she wasn’t ready to shut. Alex wore a charcoal suit, no tie, collar open. He looked handsome in a way that made people glance twice, but Elena noticed the tension at the corners of his eyes. He kept her hand in his as they moved through the crowd, thumb brushing her knuckles every few minutes like a reminder she was there. They stopped in front of a large canvas: deep blues and violent reds swirling into something that looked like anger trapped u
You may also like
I Fell For The Boy His Daddy Was A Bonus
LiLhyz928.3K viewsOur Billion-Worth Twins
Velvet Antler608.8K viewsHIRED AS A BILLIONAIRE'S WIFE
Rossy687.7K viewsThe Day I Kissed An Older Man
Cher the Cherished1.0M viewsPlaything For Hire; A Billionaire In Disguise
Dara W140 viewsEx-husband Last Regret
E.M. Novelle 197 viewsBound By Chaos
Sabrina Noelle273 viewsHer Only Exception
Melanin Borders325 views
