Where Did 'Ahh Don’T Let Her Find Out' Originate From?

In the seventh year of being in love with the Don, George Grimaldi, I said yes to his proposal. Inside a top-tier luxury bridal boutique, I stood in front of the mirror wearing the first wedding gown of my life. I looked at myself again and again and couldn’t stop smiling. Behind me, he watched in silence for a long moment. Then suddenly, he spoke, “Oh, right. We can’t get married for now. I’m married to someone else.” For a second, I thought I had misheard him. However, my entire body went stiff. The color drained from my face. “Josie is a benefactor of my family,” he explained casually, like he was talking about the weather. “My father insisted I register with her. But don’t worry. She won’t affect our relationship.” My ears rang. It took me a long time before I could finally process his words. “So you’ve been lying to me for seven years?” He frowned, as if I were the unreasonable one. “I wasn’t lying. I just forgot to tell you. This is my fault. If you don’t mind, we can still hold the wedding as planned—the gown, the ring, the honeymoon. You’ll have everything you deserve.” I lowered my gaze. My hand drifted down and rested gently against my lower abdomen. There was something else here, too—a secret I had planned to tell him today.

When I was younger, I had a car accident. Upon recovering from it, I discovered that I had gained the ability to hear thoughts. I later on married a famous actor named Rob Anderson. I was in love with him, but I found out that he had a mistress, and he started forcing me to read her thoughts so he could pacify her tantrums. One day, I dared to reject his request, and he thus felt justified to heartlessly abandon my pregnant self to the red-light district. I was all but forgotten there. Five years passed before he remembered my existence. His mistress, Fiona Reid, had refused to eat, so he came to the red-light district to look for me. However, he found out that I had disappeared from that place. The girls who were close to me in the past lied about me. They claimed that I had eloped with a rich man. He went downstairs suspiciously and bumped into our daughter, Sally Anderson, who was going through the trash to find food. Sally asked him, “Are you here to look for Hetty?” “Do you know where she went?” “She ran away a long time ago and became a rich man’s mistress. She must be living her best life somewhere far away!” I never thought that my own daughter would smear my name after I died. I did not understand why all the people who had cared for me when I was alive were suddenly spreading all these lies about me.

I had once been the woman Theo Bennett would have risked his life to marry. For six years after our wedding, he treated me like his entire world. He even had a matching tattoo carved into his lower abdomen, identical to mine, as proof of his devotion. But in the seventh year, he coldly demanded that I make a full-body model for his kept woman. "Catherine," he said, his voice sharp with contempt, "this is the price you pay for lying to me about being my savior. You know my tastes better than anyone. Make sure you replicate Hannah's body temperature. She's pregnant. I don't want to hurt her." Hannah Moore lay limp in Theo's arms, laughing so hard her shoulders shook. "How pathetic, Catherine," she mocked. "I'm pregnant, so I can't be with Theo. And yet he'd rather order a model of me than lay a finger on you. Once this one wears out, I guess I'll have to trouble you to make a few more copies of me." Only then did I understand. Theo had mistaken Hannah for the woman who once saved his life. I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I didn't argue. I simply turned around and dialed Sebastian's number. "Sebastian," I said calmly, "Theo is having an affair. I want a divorce."

In the seventh year of singing on the streets for a living, I finally save enough money for my boyfriend, Charlie Bond, to pay for our wedding and marry me. Late at night, a young woman suddenly walks up to me and requests a song just as I'm about to pack up. She says, "I'm in a bad mood. Just sing a couple of songs for me." When she notices my disabled leg, she transfers 5,000 dollars to me right away. She adds, "I'm sorry for bothering you when it's already so late. I'm just really upset. Please take pity on me and keep me company for a while." Looking at the payment notification, I nod. With this money, Charlie won't have to struggle so much when it comes to paying rent. He won't need to deliver food in the middle of rainstorms just to make ends meet. The young woman begins pouring her heart out to me. "My husband and I have been married for five years. Today, I found out that I'm pregnant. I wanted to share the good news with him, but then I found a diamond ring in his pocket! "No matter how much I question him, he refuses to say anything. I got so angry at him that I ran out of my home. Do you think he's cheating on me?" I hesitate and am just about to comfort her when her phone suddenly rings. A man's voice comes through the speaker. It sounds helpless yet affectionate. He says, "You're so silly. Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. The ring is a custom-made gift for you. I wanted it to be a surprise, but you found it before I could give it to you. Where are you? I'll come pick you up." The moment I hear that familiar voice, a chill runs down my spine. The name displayed on her phone is the exact same name as my boyfriend's—Charlie Bond.

The first time I have an affair, it's with my wife, Josephine Yates' best friend, Lydia Bennett. When Josephine catches us red-handed in bed, I'm in the middle of enjoying myself, my cheeks insanely flushed. Josephine gets into a huge fight with Lydia afterward. Then, she proceeds to drink her sorrows away that night before choosing to forgive me. After we've patched things up, we grow even more lovey-dovey than when we first got married. In fact, we're known as the golden couple who are envied by all. That is, when Josephine catches me cheating on her again on our tenth year anniversary. This time, I'm sleeping with Victoria Fairfax, the senior whom Josephine admires and respects the most. Josephine is so furious that she almost suffers from a seizure on the spot. Having gone batshit crazy, she decides to commit joint suicide with Victoria. I can only sigh before pulling her into my arms. "This is my last time doing this. I promise that you're the only one I want to be with for the rest of my life." Josephine is in so much pain and agony that she's on the brink of despair. Still, she believes my words and treats me even better now. She showers me with lavish gifts, be it luxury watches, unique custom-fitted apparel, or limited-edition racing cars. As long as she can afford it, she'll strive to give me the best. Some people call me a freeloading husband. That night, Josephine makes sure that those people have vanished off the face of the earth. When I tell Josephine that I don't want children, she gets her tubes tied immediately. Everyone praises Josephine for being devoted. They also claim that I've married the right woman. I just smile and nod. "I've used up all of my luck to meet Josephine in my life." But on Josephine's 34th birthday, she spies a paternity test report on my desk. That's when she suffers from a complete mental breakdown. The child is mine, and yet she's never given birth before.

I went to pick up my older brother who was out at a gathering. That was when I overheard him ask Nathan, "Haven't you been dating someone? It's been so long, and I still haven't met her." I suddenly tensed up. Nathan and I had been together for three years, but we had always kept it a secret, so no one knew. Nathan replied lazily, "She's not my girlfriend, just a pastime. It's not like I plan to marry her." I clenched my fists and pushed the door open without hesitation.