Chapter 1

I got off work early that day, planning to surprise my husband.

But it turned out the surprise was on me.

The moment I opened our bedroom door, I saw the last thing I ever wanted to see—Raphael Morgan, my husband of three years, was in another woman's arms.

She wore an elegant gown I'd never seen before, her long hair cascading over her shoulders.

And him—the man who left home every morning in wrinkled shirts and budget ties—was now dressed in a custom-tailored suit, looking nothing like the man I thought I married.

"Raphael, I'm home," Alisha cooed, her voice soft and honeyed.

"Alisha, I've missed you like crazy these past three years," Raphael said, his voice full of deep affection.

I stood frozen in the doorway, the shopping bag slipping from her grasp and hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

The two jerked apart, Raphael's face instantly drained of color.

"Farrah? You're back already?" Raphael stammered, panic in his voice.

Looking at Raphael, the man I'd been married to for three years, I suddenly felt he was a complete stranger.

That suit alone must have cost tens of thousands of dollars, and the woman was dripping in dazzling jewels.

Meanwhile, I stood there in yesterday's washed jeans and a plain T-shirt—feeling completely out of place in my own home.

"I left work early, hoping to cook you a nice meal," I said, her voice eerily calm. "It seems I've intruded."

With graceful poise, Alisha adjusted her dress and nodded at me. "Hi, I'm Alisha Collins—Raphael's fiancée."

"Fiancée?" Farrah's mind screamed.

I looked at Raphael, who was frantically waving his hands. "Alisha, don't be ridiculous! I'm already married!" he blurted out.

Alisha chuckled, "Marriage? That was just a stopgap measure. Raphael, the Morgan family has already prepared everything for our wedding. We can officially tie the knot next month."

My mind was reeling.

I didn't know what they were talking about.

Wasn't my husband just an ordinary software engineer? He only made three thousand dollars a month, and we were still struggling with the mortgage.

"Farrah, let me explain..." Raphael began to move toward me, his voice laced with desperation.

I took a step back and said, "Save your explanations."

I turned to leave, but Raphael came rushing out after me.

"Farrah, it's not what you think!" Raphael pleaded, his voice trembling.

I whirled around. "What is it then? Tell me—who the hell are you?"

Raphael's mouth opened and closed wordlessly, utterly at a loss for words.

Alisha emerged from the bedroom and looped her arm through Raphael's. With a calm, self-assured smile, she announced, "Raphael is the heir to the Morgan Group. We've been betrothed since childhood. Three years ago, he suddenly disappeared. It turns out that he was just slumming it among commoners."

Of course I knew that name—the Morgan Group, a business empire worth hundreds of billions.

So my husband was that legendary heir to the Morgan family all along.

And I was nothing more than a prop in his little 'experiment' with ordinary life.

"Three years," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Was our entire marriage just... a lie?"

Raphael pleaded, his voice full of desperation, "Farrah, my feelings for you are real. It's just that my identity..."

"So your identity forced you to lie to me?" I cut him off sharply, my voice trembling with barely contained fury. "Forced you to hide everything from me?"

"Farrah, I didn't," Raphael stammered, but I cut him off.

I jabbed a finger at Alisha. "And what about her? Your so-called fiancée?"

Alisha gave a cool, dismissive smile. "Ms. Mckenzie, Raphael has merely lost his way temporarily. Our betrothal was settled long ago—this is an alliance between two prominent families. It's not something he can simply decide to change."

A bitter laugh escaped me—the kind that wrung tears from my eyes.

For three years, I'd scrimped and saved every penny for this family, coming home from work every single day just to handle all the chores.

And Raphael was actually the son of a billionaire.

This was the cruellest joke life could ever play on me.

"Farrah, snap out of it." Alisha stepped up to me, her voice haughty. "Raphael is destined to return to his rightful place. There will never be anything between you two."

"Oh, really?" I wiped away my tears sharply. "Fine, I'll make it easy for you."

Without another word, I spun around, marched to the wardrobe, and began packing my things.

"Farrah, where are you going?" Raphael panicked, his voice laced with desperation.

"Divorce." I said coldly, not looking back. "Tomorrow, we're going to city hall."

"No way!" Raphael grabbed my wrist desperately. "Farrah, I'm not letting you go. I won't divorce you."

I tore my hand free. "It's not up to you!"

Alisha stood by, watching with icy detachment. "Raphael, why get so worked up over an ordinary woman? You should return to your rightful place."

Yeah, right. How could a privileged heir like him ever end up with a nobody like me?

With my belongings packed, I grabbed my suitcase and turned to leave.

Raphael blocked the doorway, desperation in his eyes. "Farrah, please—just give me a chance to explain."

"No explanation," I said coldly.

With one final shove, I pushed past him and strode out of the home I'd lived in for three years—without so much as a backward glance.

Behind me, Alisha's triumphant laughter echoed.

With her suitcase in tow, Farrah stood outside the building, suddenly realizing she had nowhere to go.

For the past three years, my entire world had been nothing but work and family.

All my friends had drifted apart since I got married. We had lost touch long ago.

My parents were back home, and I couldn't let them worry about me.

My phone rang. It was Raphael calling.

I hung up without hesitation.

Almost immediately, my phone started blowing up with messages from Raphael.