The Disguised Heiress: Dumped by Her Ex, Married to a Secret Billionaire

Noa’s POV

I was kidnapped by my mafia husband’s rivals—and he didn’t rush to save me. Wait for me, he said. He was too busy looking after his dead nephew’s wife, Harper. So I waited. Days turned into weeks, then months. Nearly a year passed before I finally got tired of waiting… and escaped on my own.

The second I stepped into the Ward mansion, I knew something was wrong.

Streamers hung from every window. Champagne glasses clinked. Laughter drifted on the spring breeze.

It was a party. A one-month celebration. For a baby girl named Lila.

I watched, frozen, as Elias, my husband, and Harper, his nephew’s wife, swept into the courtyard, hand in hand. The crowd erupted in cheers, clapping like trained seals. In Harper’s arms, dressed in a froth of pink lace, was a newborn.

It must be Lila.

Harper wore white—a soft, dreamy thing that made her look like an angel. Elias matched her, an all-white suit clinging to his tall frame, his hand protectively on her back.

Elias lifted his champagne glass, the crowd falling into a reverent hush.

"Today," he announced, "we celebrate my daughter Lila’s one-month. And—" he smiled, proud, radiant, "—we have more good news. Harper and I are getting married. The wedding will be held at the Ward Casino. I hope to see you all there."

So this was what had kept Elias too busy to come rescue me from his rivalry.

Elias’s gaze swept the crowd—and landed on me.

For a second, his face cracked. Shock. Relief. Maybe even joy. His body shifted forward, instinct pulling him toward me—

Until Harper caught his arm. Whispered something urgent into his ear.

And just like that, he stayed put.

Around me, the crowd started to murmur.

"Who’s the filthy woman?" someone whispered.

"Looks like Noa, doesn’t it?" another said. "But Noa’s dead. Elias said so. Eight months ago—he said one of his enemies took her out."

"Right," someone chimed in. "That’s why he and Harper got together. They were grieving. Bonded over their loss. A love story, really."

I was dead? Did Elias declare me dead to the world just so he could move on? So he could parade Harper on his arm and call their bastard child a miracle?

All the while, I had been waiting. Believing he'd come for me.

"Say if she’s Noa," a voice hissed nearby, "then Harper’s been sleeping with her uncle-in-law all along."

"God," another whispered, "no wonder Elias didn’t wait for a coffin before proposing."

The whispers grew louder, sharper.

And Harper, standing at the center of it all, her mouth wobbled into a trembling pout, tears bright in her eyes.

Poor Harper. The perfect angel was starting to crack.

“I will not tolerate this kind of accusation," Harper said, her voice trembling just enough to sound tragic.

She turned and fled the stage.

Elias chased after her, catching her hand at the edge of the platform.

"Harper, don’t get upset over some meaningless comment," he murmured, the microphone still catching every word.

Then he turned, facing the crowd.

“Harper didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, I am making my child, Lila the heir to the Ward Casino."

Lila would inherit.

What about my twins? What about Tessa and Milo—the children he once swore would carry on the Ward legacy?

Was that a lie, too?

My gaze slipped down to Harper’s hand, catching the flash of diamond even from across the courtyard.

A familiar ring—one that used to sit on my finger.

The Ward family heirloom. Now worn by Harper like it had always belonged to her.

I swallowed the knot in my throat, my fingers trembling at my sides.

Elias’s eyes found mine again—and this time, there was no pity in them. Only annoyance.

He stalked toward me, his mouth a grim slash.

"My Noa is dead," he said coldly, loud enough for the nearest guests to hear. "This woman is nothing but a lookalike. An imposter trying to ruin Harper’s day. Anyone who believes otherwise—anyone who spreads rumors—will deal with me."

I stepped closer, close enough that only he could hear me, and whispered, "Say it again. Look me in the eyes and tell me Noa is dead."

His jaw clenched, voice low and urgent. "Just this once. Play along. You heard them—they’ll tear Harper apart if I admit you are Noa now. I can’t let her carry the shame of being called a homewrecker."

He didn’t even wait for my answer. He just snapped his fingers, and the guards appeared at my sides, ushering me away.

…

The guards handed me off to Elias’s butler.

"Mrs. Ward?" he asked, his voice shaking when he recognized me.

I nodded.

He led me to the guest house—a small, one-bedroom place on the far edge of the estate. "Freshen up," he said awkwardly. "I’ll bring you clean clothes. Something to eat.”

When he left, I crept back inside the main house.

The moment I stepped through the front doors, it hit me.

Everything was different. Gone was the simple, chic home. In its place was a gaudy palace—gold-trimmed furniture, crystal chandeliers, velvet drapery.

It reeked of someone trying way too hard to scrub away every last trace of me.

So gaudy and over the top.

I made my way to the master bedroom. Everything had been replaced too. The bed. The curtains. Even the wedding photo hanging over the dresser.

Except now, it wasn’t me in the photo. It was Harper.

Harper, smiling and beaming up at Elias as he kissed her cheek.

The butler appeared behind me, wringing his hands. "Mrs. Ward... you cannot come in here…”

I turned away from him, my voice sharp. "Where are my twins?"

The butler paled. "They… they’re in the basement."

The basement was cold and damp. Barely fit for storage, much less for children.

I shoved past him and stormed down the narrow stairs.

When I threw open the door to one of the cramped maid’s rooms, I froze.

Tessa and Milo sat huddled together on the dirty floor, surrounded by garbage bags. A mouse scurried between the trash, bold from habit.

Tessa had always been fragile, even as a newborn. Now her small body looked even thinner, like a stiff wind could snap her in half. Milo, his face was streaked with dirt.

Their clothes were stained and shredded, the fabric so worn the patterns were barely recognizable.

While Harper’s daughter slept upstairs on silk sheets, wearing a lace christening gown, fed with silver spoons... my children were left to rot in filth.

My throat closed up. "Tessa? Milo? Mommy’s here. Mommy’s back."

Both of them stirred.

Tessa blinked first, "Mommy?" she breathed.