Chapter 1: The Dream Life I Never Expected

My name is Jasmine, and at 38, I can say that life has taken me on a journey I never expected. A few months ago, I thought I had everything I ever wanted—love, luxury, and a life that many people would envy. But what I discovered about my fiancé, Adrien Cross, shattered everything I thought I knew about love and family.

Before I met Adrien, I was just another marketing manager, working long hours and living in a tiny apartment. I had just about given up on finding love, convinced that I wasn’t cut out for a fairytale romance. My dating life had been a disaster, full of dead-end relationships and disappointment. But then, everything changed.

It all started with an invitation to a charity gala. It wasn’t my scene—millionaires in tuxedos, champagne flutes, and designer dresses—but something about it felt like a sign. I told myself that I was going for work purposes, but in the back of my mind, I secretly hoped it would lead to something more.

And it did. That night, I met Adrien Cross.

You’ve probably heard his name before. He was everywhere. Real estate empire, tech investments, the kind of wealth that makes headlines. He was tall, impeccably dressed, with dark, intense eyes that seemed to see right through you. And when he walked over to me and asked me to dance, I thought someone was playing a joke on me. But Adrien wasn’t joking. He was charming, funny, and surprisingly down to earth for someone worth billions.

We talked for hours that night, about everything except his money. He asked about my work, my dreams, and my favorite books. When he asked for my number, I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Over the next three weeks, Adrien swept me off my feet.

He picked me up in his Bentley after work, took me to restaurants that were way out of my league, and flew me to Napa Valley for dinner, returning in time for me to go back to work the next day. He bought me designer dresses, telling me he wanted me to feel as beautiful as I looked to him. My friends thought I was making it all up, until Adrien showed up at my office one day with two dozen white roses.

What amazed me most was how normal he made it all feel. Despite his wealth, Adrien never made me feel small or out of place. He held doors for me, remembered the small things I mentioned, and looked at me like I was the most important person in the world. When paparazzi started following us, he shielded me from the cameras and whispered jokes in my ear to make me laugh.

By month three, I was in love. Completely, utterly in love.

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Chapter 2: The Engagement and the Subtle Changes

One evening, after a romantic dinner in Paris, Adrien proposed. He’d flown us to his private island, where he dropped to one knee at sunset, offering me a $2 million ring. It was everything I’d ever imagined, but also something I hadn’t dared to hope for. He’d chosen me. He wanted me.

I said yes through happy tears, and for a moment, everything seemed perfect. Adrien, the man who had shown me so much love, had chosen me to be his wife. But there was a small voice inside me that asked why someone would propose after only six months of dating. The voice grew louder when we began planning the wedding.

Adrien insisted on handling everything himself. At first, I thought it was sweet that he wanted to give me the perfect day, but when I tried to add my input, he dismissed my ideas with a smile. The venue was already booked at his family’s estate. The guest list was already finalized—mostly his business associates and high society friends. When I asked about inviting my college roommates, he frowned.

“Darling, this isn’t that kind of wedding,” he said, not looking up from his laptop. “We’re talking about senators, CEOs—people who matter in our world. Your friends wouldn’t be comfortable.”

It stung. But I tried to ignore it. Maybe it was just his way of doing things. Maybe he wanted everything to be perfect, to match the life he had worked so hard to build. But soon, I realized that “our world” wasn’t my world. It was a world I didn’t understand, a world where I was an outsider.

Then came the suggestion that I take a leave of absence from work to focus on the wedding planning.

“You won’t need to work anymore,” he said, stroking my hair. “I can take care of everything.”

It sounded romantic at first, but when I mentioned working part-time after the wedding, his jaw tightened.

“My wife won’t work, Jasmine,” he said, his voice firm. “It reflects poorly on my ability to provide.”

The words hit me like a slap. I thought I had found a partner who understood my need for independence, for a career of my own. But instead, I was being asked to give up everything—my identity, my work, and my independence.

Chapter 3: The Growing Doubts

The doubts started to creep in, but I ignored them. I told myself that it was all part of the process, that I had to let go of my old life to make room for this new, glamorous world that Adrien was offering me. But something felt off.

Adrien started going on more trips. He would disappear for days at a time, always with vague explanations. “Meeting investors in Hong Kong” or “Closing a deal in Dubai.” At first, I accepted his answers. But then, I found a boarding pass in his jacket pocket once—first class to Miami, not Dubai. I didn’t say anything, but I felt a knot form in my stomach.

There were other strange things too. He’d get phone calls at odd hours, stepping out onto the balcony to take them. I could catch fragments of conversations in what sounded like Mandarin or Russian. I asked him about it once, and he said it was just business, international deals that couldn’t wait for normal hours. But his tone was always curt, like he didn’t want me asking questions.

I started feeling like I was being kept at arm’s length. The man who had once showered me with affection and attention was now becoming distant. He wouldn’t tell me where he was going or who he was talking to.

And then came the prenuptial agreement.

It was 27 pages of legal language that basically said if we divorced, I’d get almost nothing. Not the penthouse. Not the cars. Not even an allowance. Adrien’s lawyer explained it matter-of-factly while Adrien sat there nodding.

“It’s standard for high-net-worth individuals,” the lawyer said.

When I asked for time to review the agreement with my own lawyer, Adrien’s face went cold.

“Don’t you trust me, Jasmine?” he said, his voice filled with hurt. “After everything I’ve given you?”

The hurt in his voice made me feel guilty for even asking. So, I signed it.

Chapter 4: The Family That Didn’t Welcome Me

The moment I met Adrien’s family, I felt like I had stepped into a nightmare. His family’s estate was massive, cold, and unwelcoming. Adrien’s mother looked at me with disdain, as if I was some kind of nuisance. His father barely acknowledged my existence, and his sister, Victoria, was downright unsettling.

“You’re exactly his type,” she said to me with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Young, pretty, grateful—just like the others.”

The others? I asked her what she meant, but she just laughed and walked away.

That night, I lay awake next to Adrien, listening to him breathe and wondering what I had gotten myself into. But the ring on my finger caught the moonlight, and I pushed those thoughts away. I was being paranoid. Adrien loved me. He had chosen me. What more could I ask for?

But deep down, I knew something was wrong. Victoria’s words echoed in my mind. I wasn’t the first. I was just the latest.

Chapter 5: The Room

The wedding was just three weeks away when I found the room. Adrien had left for another mysterious business trip, this time claiming he’d be in Tokyo for five days. I was alone in the massive penthouse, feeling more isolated than ever. My friends had stopped calling after I kept canceling plans. My job had filled my position permanently, and I had nothing but time and a growing sense that something was terribly wrong.

I had never been to the third floor of the penthouse. Adrien always told me it was just storage and his private office—nothing interesting. But one morning, I heard a phone ringing upstairs. It rang and rang, echoing through the empty space. I followed the sound, and when I reached the door at the end of the hallway, I noticed something odd.

The door was locked, but the ringing was definitely coming from inside. I tried the handle. Nothing.

I pressed my ear against the door and heard something else—a printer. Someone was printing documents inside a room that was supposed to be empty.

My curiosity got the best of me, and I tried different combinations on the keypad lock. Nothing worked. But then, almost as a joke, I tried my own birthday.

The lock clicked open.

Chapter 6: The Discovery

What I found inside sent chills down my spine.

The room was like something out of a spy movie—computer screens lining the walls, each one displaying flight information, legal documents, and contracts. Filing cabinets were stacked against another wall, each drawer labeled with strange letters and numbers I didn’t recognize. But it was the desk that caught my attention.

Spread across it were photographs. Not just any photographs, but professional headshots of women. All young, all beautiful, all different ethnicities—Asian women, Latina women, Black women, like me. Each photo was paperclipped to a manila folder, thick with documents.

I picked up the first folder, and my hands were trembling. The woman in the photo was named Linda Chen—26 years old, marketing degree, no family in the United States. Inside the folder were copies of a marriage certificate, immigration paperwork, and bank statements showing large deposits into her account. At the bottom of the file was a divorce decree, dated just eight months after the marriage.

I grabbed another folder. Maria Santos—24, graphic designer. Same pattern—marriage certificate, immigration documents, divorce papers.

The third folder made my blood run cold. Sarah Johnson, 25, teacher. But instead of divorce papers, there was a death certificate. A car accident. The report said it was just three months after her wedding.

My legs gave out. I sank into Adrien’s chair, staring at the folders in front of me. I didn’t know how long I sat there. But when I saw my own folder, I froze. My headshot from the company website, my resume, my credit report—all of it neatly organized.

And at the top of the first page, in red ink, someone had written: “Target acquired. Client: Wei Huang. Timeline: 6-8 months. Fee to embellish Huang.”

I knew that name. Adrien had mentioned him before—some Chinese businessman who was having trouble getting his daughter permanent residency in the United States. But I hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Now, I realized the horrifying truth.

I wasn’t Adrien’s fiancée. I was his product.

Chapter 7: The Confrontation

Adrien wasn’t supposed to be back for another three days. But as I was sitting in the room, trying to process what I had found, I heard the front door open. Adrien’s voice drifted in from the hallway.

“Surprise, darling,” he said, dropping his suitcase by the door. “The Tokyo deal wrapped up early.”

He was smiling, but there was something wrong about it. I couldn’t breathe.

“Where’s the rest of the paperwork?” I asked, my voice shaking. I didn’t have the strength to confront him fully, but I had to know.

But before I could say anything else, Adrien’s expression shifted. His warm smile faltered, and he turned cold.

“I know what you found,” he said flatly. “It’s not what you think.”

My heart was pounding in my chest. “You’re using me,” I said, my voice trembling. “All of this was a lie. You’re trying to arrange marriages and manipulate me for business deals.”

Adrien didn’t seem fazed. “You signed the prenup. You agreed to this. You knew what you were getting into.”

“No,” I whispered, “I didn’t. I didn’t know.”

Adrien smiled coldly. “You’ll never leave. You signed the contract. You’re mine.”

Chapter 8: The Escape

But I didn’t stay. I didn’t give in.

I left that night, with nothing but my clothes and the evidence of his crimes. I knew he would come after me, but I didn’t care. I was done being his pawn. I was done being used.

I didn’t look back.

The End