What Happens In 'Being Wrong' By Kathryn Schulz?

Nathan Morrison is a hero who emerged victorious from a bloodbath and a general loved by the whole country. Suzanne York is a terrible woman with a horrible reputation who's undeserving of him, yet she ends up as his wife.There's another problem—some other woman holds Nathan's heart. He doesn't love Suzanne.She doesn't want to struggle and be tormented in a loveless marriage, so she throws him a divorce agreement. "Let's get divorced."Nathan can't be bothered. "I'm too busy for that."Suzanne leaves without another look back. When she appears in public again, she's now a genius scientist, philanthropic artist, and the daughter of the wealthiest man alive.She stuns the world with her identities, but Nathan remains scornful … until one day when a considerable conspiracy is unveiled."General Morrison, the woman you've loved for years is your ex-wife. You've had the wrong person this whole time!"Nathan's eyes turn red with insanity. When he finally tracks her down, almost half out of his mind, he claims, "You're the one I've always loved, my dear. Let's remarry!"

⚠️WARNING: This book contains explicit sexual content, possessive and toxic male leads, manipulation, emotional abuse, and disturbing themes that may be triggering to some readers. This is nothing like healthy love. ¥¥¥¥ I loved Tyler Beaumont for twelve years. Years of hoping and waiting, believing that one day, he would finally choose me. So when my parents told me I was being arranged to marry into his family… I thought it was fate. I thought I had won. But I was wrong, because the man waiting for me at the altar isn’t Tyler. It’s his brother, Grayson Beaumont. The one I never heard of—the one with cold eyes, a cruel mouth, and a hatred for me sharp enough to bleed. I don’t know what I did to deserve it. I don’t even remember. But he does. He remembers everything. He didn’t marry me for love, because from the moment I became his wife, he made one thing clear—I would pay for a past I don’t even remember. “I tried to forget you,” he tilted my chin, staring directly into my soul. “But watching you love him? That was the first time I understood what hatred really feels like.” And Tyler? The man I spent twelve years loving? He won’t let me go. “I don’t need you to choose me,” he whispered. “I just need you to understand… no matter whose name you take, you will always be mine.” Two brothers. One filled with hatred. The other with obsession. And me? Caught between a past I can’t remember…and a truth that could destroy us all. Because somewhere between lies, desire, and betrayal, I realize the most dangerous thing of all: I was never meant to love the right brother.

I was nineteen the first time Cole Whitfield broke me. Not with cruelty. With a single word. Why. Not did you — why. Like the answer was already settled and he just wanted the story to make sense. I told him the truth anyway. He said nothing that mattered. So I picked up my bag, walked out of his apartment, and decided that a man who trusted a rumor over two years of me wasn’t worth a correction. I spent the next two years becoming someone I actually liked. New city. Graduate program. A published paper with my name on it. I was done with Cole Whitfield in every way a person can be done. Then I walked into Seminar Room 114 and he was sitting right there, gray eyes already on the door, like some part of him knew. I sat down. I opened my notebook. I did not look up. Here’s the thing about studying how people form beliefs: you understand exactly why he believed it. That doesn’t mean you forgive it. That doesn’t mean two years of silence disappear because he’s learned how to look at you like he’s sorry. He wants a conversation. I want my degree. But the campus is small, the seminar table is round, and the boy who broke my heart at nineteen is doing everything right at twenty-one — and I’m starting to understand that composed isn’t the same thing as healed. I hate that I still know the exact sound of his voice.

He was my best friend. My everything. Until he left me broken and humiliated. Now, everyone around me is whispering, “I told you so.” But I won’t let heartbreak define me. So I made a deal. A fake relationship with Adrian—the rich elder brother everyone respects, the one my ex envies up to. What could go wrong? Except, the more we pretend, the more real it feels. And soon, I’m torn between the past that broke me and a future I never saw coming. “The Wrong Brother” is a story of heartbreak, revenge, and the messy, thrilling way love finds you when you least expect it.

My stepson, Lucas Lincoln, is trapped in a fire. After calling the fire brigade, I quickly ring my husband, Jasper Lincoln. Jasper is the leader of a search-and-rescue team, after all. But to my dismay, Jasper is currently keeping his ex-wife, Yvonne Schmidt, company. Yvonne has won the "Forensic Doctor of the Year" award, and so they are out celebrating it. My phone calls are rejected again and again. Jasper never once calls me back, even after Lucas' cries for help disappear entirely. By the time the fire brigade arrives to quell the flames, Lucas has been burned to a crisp. I tell Jasper what happened to our son, but he only gleefully says, "He was nothing but a troublemaker who'd contribute nothing to society. If he's dead, then so be it. This way, he won't grow up to become a menace. "Yvonne happens to be giving a public talk tomorrow and is still in need of a specimen demonstrating burn injuries. She can use Noah's corpse for her demonstration since it's still fresh." I sneer. So Jasper thinks that my own son, Noah Green, is the one who died in the fire. I immediately send Lucas' blackened corpse to Yvonne's operating room.

Mom was a world-class micro-expression expert. She always said no lie got past her. To replay every emotional moment of Maya and me, she packed our house with HD security cameras. When Maya scraped her knee and burst into tears, Mom called it real pain. But when stomach cramps twisted my face, she pointed at the monitor and picked me apart. "The mouth twitch. The darting eyes. Classic attention-seeking." That day, I'd accidentally eaten something I was deadly allergic to. My throat swelled shut. I could barely breathe. Panicking, I clawed at my neck and crawled to her feet, begging for help. Mom adjusted her glasses, flipped open her notebook, and calmly wrote everything down. "Rapid breathing. Bluish skin. Sophie Schneider, your acting's gotten better again. Too bad your micro-expressions gave you away." To punish me for lying to her, she shut off the house's panic button, locked the front door, and took Maya to a concert. "If you love putting on a show so much, keep performing for the cameras. We'll see how long it takes before you admit you were wrong." I curled up on the cold tile, shaking in pain, and looked at the camera's blinking red light. My vision faded. Mom, you spent your whole life reading people. But you never understood your own daughter.