He shielded me from the rich heiresses who mocked me for being poor. He defended me at auctions, made public declarations, abandoned billion-dollar projects just to stand by me. He flew thousands of miles to care for me when I was sick.
The Simpson family hated me. They wanted him to marry Lilith—the perfect daughter from their elite circle. But he fought. He endured imprisonment, exile, even gave up his status as heir, just to marry me.
Finally, after all the struggle, they relented. We married. I thought that was the end of our battles. I thought we were untouchable. I thought we would grow old together.
Then Lilith returned. Spoiled, arrogant… and he treated her as if she were his responsibility. Her work, her failures, her surgeries—he handled them all. He chauffeured her, tended to her, cared for her more than me. One day, without even asking, he brought her into our home, put her in a guest room…
That day I realized the truth. I was no longer his choice. I was just his wife on paper. Lilith… Lilith had been his choice all along.