He Spoiled Me for Three Years… Because I Look Like the Woman He Couldn’t Have Chapter 01
In my life, I consented to being kept like a prize bird in a gilded cage.
The first time, I had been young and stupid enough to fall for a ruthless nouveau riche thug from Riverton City.
Back then, I had been soft, naive, and painfully obedient. I thought if I behaved well enough, I could earn a man’s love.
Then I found out he had only ever seen me as a convenient plaything, while squandering obscene amounts of money at East Coast heiresses and socialites.
So I walked away with nothing.
Clean. Final. Without looking back.
The second time, I thought I had learned my lesson.
I chose Callum, a finance titan known in every elite circle for being cold, restrained, and almost monk-like when it came to women.
For three years after our wedding, he spoiled me like I was something precious.
Wherever I went, he had a private security detail following close behind, protecting me as if the whole world were a threat.
People in his circle laughed behind his back ,whispering that the untouchable old wolf of Wall Street had finally fallen, and for a woman no one had even heard of.
I believed it too.
I believed that this time, I had finally won someone’s love on my own.
Until this year’s Memorial Day weekend, when I went with Callum to Harbor Point to visit the Whitaker family.
Outside the terrace of the Whitaker family estate, I heard his grandmother let out a long, weary sigh.
“When it comes to obsession, no one holds a candle to you, Callum.”
“Back then, Elowen Hartwell looked down on you because you were the illegitimate son. She nearly got you killed to drown, and you swore you would make her life a living hell.”
“And yet here we are. Your urrent wife is a dead ringer for the looks exactly like the face she had before all the plastic surgery, doesn’t she?”
For a long time, the man said nothing.
Then Callum said, “Grandmother, don’t let Sienna hear that.”
I stood on the other side of the terrace, my fingers digging so hard into the railing that my nails nearly cracked.
“Why are you standing out here in the wind by yourself? You’ll catch a chill.”
Callum’s warm, gentle voice came from behind me.
He draped his jacket over my shoulders, then slipped his arms around my waist from behind as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
My whole body went rigid.
Those three sentences from the old matriarch kept echoing in my head, over and over, until they were all I could hear.
Callum took my hand. “Sienna, why are your hands so cold?”
He brought my fingers to his lips and breathed warmth over them.
I turned around and quietly pulled my hand free.
“Callum,” I asked, “who am I?”
Looking into those devoted eyes of his, I could not stop the past three years from flashing through my mind.
Every night, no matter how late, he would bring me a mug of warm milk with honey.
When my menstrual cramps flared up, he once walked away from a billion-dollar acquisition and stayed up all night massaging my lower abdomen.
So all of that had been for another woman?
He stroked my hair and said, “Silly girl. Do you even have to ask? You’re my wife. The woman I love most.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but his phone vibrated.
He glanced at the screen. His expression did not change.
“Sienna, something came up with the European office. I need to take an international video call in the study.”
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead.
“Be good. Go to bed first. Don’t wait up for me.”
I stared blankly at his back as he walked away, before returned to the bedroom alone.
On the nightstand, the tablet Callum usually used to read financial news suddenly lit up.
A Signal notification popped up from an unnamed contact.
It was a photo.
The background showed an exclusive boutique hotel in Harbor Point, one famous for its privacy.
In the picture, a woman wore a black lace slip. Her eyes were wet and shining, soft in a way that looked almost practiced.
Her features were delicate and beautiful, obviously altered by careful work.
But even so, I could still see it.
The shape of her face looked a little like mine.
It was Elowen,the golden daughter of the Hartwells.
Before I could even react, the conversation on the screen disappeared.
Callum had wiped the messages clean from his end.
Less than a minute later, deliberately softened footsteps passed outside the door, followed by the sound of an engine fading into the distance.
My hands clenched the bedsheets until my knuckles hurt.
After a long moment, I took a deep breath.
Following the hotel logo that had been accidentally caught in the photo, I called a cab and went after him.
