He Married Me for the Heart Inside My Chest Chapter 11

He Married Me for the Heart Inside My Chest Chapter 11

I stared at my shadow on the ground, suddenly 

feeling lighter. 

No matter Vera’s motives, no matter how real 

Silas’s feelings were. 

One thing was certain. 

This heart was mine. 

Not Elowen’s. Not Silas’s. No one’s but mine. 

It had beaten inside me for three years. Every beat 

was just to keep me alive. 

I was going to live for myself. 

My phone buzzed. A message from Silas, from an 

unknown number: 

[Lila, I removed the flowers from Elowen’s grave. I 

won’t go there again.] 

[I want a fresh start. Not because of the heart. 

Because of you.] 

I stared at the message. I didn’t delete it. I didn’t 

reply. 

I slid my phone into my pocket and walked toward 

the sunlight. 

The story wasn’t over. 

But at least, I wasn’t just a replacement living in 

someone else’s shadow anymore. 

Back at the apartment, Wren was glued to her 

computer, her face grim. 

“Lila, have you seen the trending topics?” 

I walked over. The top local headline screamed: 

[“Replacement Bride” Behind Heart Transplant: True Love or Fetish?] 

The article didn’t name names, but it had a photo of my back from when I was in the hospital, plus a screenshot of my viral Tik Tok video. 

The comments section was a warzone. 

[Wait, is this real? That guy’s a freak–married someone just because she has his ex’s heart?] 

[Poor girl. She’s just a human vessel.] 

[Am I the only one who thinks she deserves it? Married a rich guy for money, now it’s backfiring.] 

“Edited lies,” I said coldly. 

The article painted me as a scheming gold digger who’d tracked down the donor info through shady 

means to manipulate my way into marriage. 

Silas, meanwhile, was framed as a heartbroken 

victim who’d been used. 

My phone started blowing up. Harassing calls and 

texts flooded in. 

[You disgusting thief, stealing a dead girl’s heart 

and her man–why don’t you die?] 

A cursed private message. 

I stared at the familiar gray profile picture on the 

screen, a cold smirk tugging at my lips. 

Vera. She was a pro at orchestrating social 

ostracism. 

“This is definitely Vera’s doing,” Wren slammed her 

fist on the table. “She’s trying to ruin you 

completely, drive you out of town.” 

“No. She wants more than that.” 

I analyzed calmly. “She wants to break me. Make 

me lose it and confront Silas. Then she can label 

me the crazy ex–girlfriend and win.” 

Right then, the company group chat exploded. 

The admin messaged me directly: [Lila, your personal drama’s affecting the company. We’re asking you to take some time off.] 

Public humiliation. Malicious speculation. 

This level of attack? It was just the warm–up. 

I replied with a single “Fine,” then shut my phone 

off. 

Vera thought she’d cornered me. Thought I’d be 

helpless. 

She forgot this heart had beaten inside me for 

three years. It didn’t just give me life–it gave me a 

calm most people would never understand. 

I opened a drawer and pulled out the framed 

photo I’d stashed there. 

I peeled off the back of the frame. Tucked inside 

was another piece of paper. 

Three years ago, after my surgery, Silas had 

written it while I was unconscious in the hospital. 

A “care log.” 

[May 25. Her rejection reaction is severe. The 

doctor said if she doesn’t pull through, the heart 

was wasted.] 

[Elowen, please protect her. Let a part of you keep 

living.] 

I stared at the words, my eyes cold. 

Vera wanted clout. She wanted reputation. She 

wanted Silas. 

I’d show her what it meant to lose everything you 

ever wanted.