Forgotten Wife：let The Traitors Kneel Down นิยาย & เรื่องราว

The words slipped smoothly from my lips, mixed with a soft laugh I didn’t bother to hold back. Willy stood awkwardly near the doorway, still clutching his camera. “Thank you, Miss Emily but I, I just-” He swallowed, clearly uneasy. “Is- is this really all right? After all, Mr. Liam is already married.” My eyes narrowed slightly not in anger, but in amusement. How naïve. “How many times do I have to tell you, Willy? Liam is my lover. He is not anyone’s husband.” “But-” “How strange that you could forget.”

success became more important than people. Dizer lowered the letter slowly. "So... he wasn't always like this." ​Adrian shook his head. "No. He changed." ​She looked back at the letter and continued reading. ​If he has betrayed you... it is because he chose ambition over family. Never make the same mistake. No empire is worth losing the people you love. Dizer closed her eyes, letting the words settle deep within her heart. Then she reached for another folded page beneath the letter. It contained only a single sentence: Forgive him only if he earns it. Never because he asks.

“I already have. Trust is like glass, Dominic. Once cracked, it never shines the same. She’ll never look at you without seeing me. And when she’s tired enough, she’ll leave. That’s when you’ll come back.” I moved so fast that even she flinched. I grabbed her wrist, hard enough to make her gasp. “You’ll never touch her again. You’ll never come near my family again.” She smiled, even through the wince. “We’ll see.” I let go and stormed out, my pulse pounding. But the damage was done. The trap had snapped shut. And now, for the first time in years, I didn’t know if Lena would choose to believe in me — or in the nightmare Clara had staged.

“I died, Loretta. I watched my life, my love, my very existence, stolen from me. I will not make that mistake again. This time, I will be the one pulling the strings. And Ivy… she will learn that the true cost of betrayal is not just death, but utter, absolute ruin.” She ended the call, the phone feeling light in her hand now. The fear that had gripped her at the hospital had transformed into something else entirely: a cold, focused power. She had stared death in the face, twice, and emerged stronger. She understood the shifting currents of fate now. And she would use that understanding to carve out her own destiny, and to deliver a retribution so precise, so devastating, that it would echo

“No, I’m not kneeling for you.” His expression didn’t change. “I won’t ask again.” “You are disobeying me in front of my people,” His voice was low but there was menace in each word as he continued, “This won’t go unpunished.” A flash of his smile as he added, this time for the benefit of our audience, “This is an old tradition,” His voice dropped to a dramatic cadence, low and mocking, “Long before modern laws softened the familia, a wife would show her loyalty by kneeling at her husband’s feet. A sign of obedience.” I shook my head, my fingers curling into fists. “I won’t. I won’t be your wife and neither will I obey you.”

He just watched the pieces of the vase settle on the wall and then the floor. "You're not a traitor," he said quietly. "I'm a Blackthorne's wife, Lucian! No matter how many papers I sign, no matter how many people I train with... I am the woman he chose. And he’s never going to let me forget it." I slumped against the wall, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor, surrounded by the shards of my own life. I buried my face in my hands and finally, truly, let the devastation win.

"If you want to see miracles, you have to stay the course. That's what this whole day is about." I gritted my teeth and followed her as we went and took a seat. A woman who looked older, the pastor's wife—came to the front of the room after people had finished eating. She introduced herself and then started going on about this ridiculous subject of how she treats her husband, how her husband loves her, and how her husband loves their children. Basically how she submits/slave to her husband. Then she called up her two daughters, who were dressed like... and she started telling us how we were supposed to treat our children like we were in 1912.

The woman who had smiled at me had wanted me utterly destroyed. "You took my place," Irina screamed, her voice cracking with hysterical jealousy. She strained toward me, her face contorted in rage. "I am the alliance. I am supposed to be his wife. You are a mute, pathetic little whore."

Aniya looked at her. "And do you think she is going to believe me over her husband? Especially when we had seen how she is, in that exhibition hall. She hates me and she is never going to believe my words against her husband," Aniya uttered because she knew that his wife hated her and Flora from that night which was the foundation of all of this mess. How she wished she had never gone to that exhibition inauguration? She would have never gotten in front of him. That night would have never happened but now it was too late to even think about any of this.