You Want Me to Kneel and Apologize? I'm Not Your Husband

“Wesley, get on your knees.”

Victoria’s voice was cold as she looked down at me.

Beside her stood Ethan, wearing an innocent, aggrieved expression, while my so-called daughter, Sophie, glared at me indignantly.

“What are you waiting for? You stole something, and you still think you’re in the right?”

Sophie glared at me furiously.

“Get on your knees and apologize to Ethan right now!”

Ethan put on a forgiving act and gently tugged at her sleeve.

“Sophie, don’t talk to your dad like that. Maybe he just made a mistake.”

What a saint.

I’d been at the Sterling residence for three months, and this little performance happened almost every week. I was getting sick of watching it.

The problem was that I wasn’t the Wesley Hart they were talking about.

Three months ago, I’d simply had a huge argument with my sister and stormed out of the house. Somehow, I’d ended up being forcibly dragged home by this completely unhinged mother-daughter duo.

I thought it was amusing, so I decided to stay and watch the show.

I just hadn’t expected it to get this boring.

“Wesley, my patience is running out.”

When I still didn’t move, the chill in Victoria’s eyes deepened.

“Don’t make me use force.”

I finally lifted my eyes and lazily glanced at the three of them.

Then I smiled.

Victoria and Sophie both froze.

Even Ethan forgot to keep up his act.

They’d probably never seen me like this before.

After all, in their eyes, Wesley was supposed to be a gentle, timid man they could push around however they pleased.

“Apologize for what?”

I spoke lightly, but the smile on my lips was ice-cold.

“I’m not even your real husband.”

The entire living room fell silent.

Victoria was the first to react.

A flash of disbelief crossed her face before it was quickly replaced by even deeper fury.

“Good. Very good.”

She laughed in anger and stalked toward me.

“Wesley, I really underestimated you. You’d actually say something like that just to avoid taking responsibility.”

She grabbed my wrist, squeezing hard enough to make my bones ache.

“Looks like these three comfortable months have made you forget who you are and what the rules are.

“You think you can get away with this just by lying?”

The pain in my wrist intensified.

Victoria leaned closer, her self-righteous face inches from mine. The bloodshot veins in her eyes made her look almost frightening.

“My rule is that you are Wesley Hart. You’d better remember that.”

I looked at her and suddenly found the whole thing rather amusing.

Three months ago, I’d had a huge fight with my sister, Audrey Caldwell, and stormed out of the house.

I’d left with nothing but my phone.

After dark, I sat on the steps by the street, letting the cold wind blow over me while I debated whether to book a hotel or simply call my assistant, Nora Mercer, to come pick me up.

Just then, a pink Porsche came to a screeching stop in front of me.

The doors flew open, and Victoria and Sophie rushed out.

Their eyes were red, and before I could even react, they grabbed my arms and started saying things I couldn’t make sense of.

“Wesley! Don’t leave!”

“Dad! Why are you abandoning Mom and me?”

I was completely stunned.

For a moment, I thought I’d run into a pair of lunatics.

But I’d grown up fighting my way through plenty of trouble. I wasn’t afraid of them.

I was about to kick them both away when, in the middle of struggling, I finally caught fragments of what they were saying.

Their husband and father—a man named Wesley Hart—had disappeared from home not long before.

From that moment on, I realized I’d somehow been mistaken for another man.