THE BILLIONAIRE'S SEVENTH WIFE

The Truth Revealed The silence inside the Vincent family home was suffocating. Only a few hours had passed since Mr. Vincent had been laid to rest, yet the pain of losing him still hung heavily in the air. Friends, neighbors, and distant relatives filled the small living room, offering quiet words of comfort to Clara Vincent and her only daughter, Elara. The scent of burning candles mixed with the fragrance of fresh flowers placed beside Mr. Vincent's framed photograph. Every corner of the house carried memories of the man who had fought desperately to stay alive but eventually lost his battle with illness. Elara sat quietly in one corner, her eyes swollen from endless tears. Her father's final days replayed repeatedly in her mind. Mr. Sherman, a wealthy businessman, had paid an enormous amount of money for her father's treatment after every hospital had demanded payment before continuing with the medication. Her family had believed that miracle would save him. It hadn't. Her father was gone. Now all that remained was a mountain of debt and a future filled with uncertainty. "How are we supposed to repay such a huge amount?" Elara whispered to herself, staring blankly at the floor. Her mother remained silent, her face pale and lifeless. She avoided looking directly at her daughter, as though she carried a secret too heavy to speak aloud. Suddenly... Knock! Knock! Knock! Every conversation inside the house came to an abrupt stop. The mourners exchanged confused glances. Elara slowly stood and walked toward the entrance. When she opened the door, she found two men standing outside. One was dressed in an expensive black suit while holding a leather briefcase. Beside him stood an elderly man with neatly combed gray hair, dressed in an elegant designer suit. Though he appeared to be around sixty years old, his posture remained straight, and the expensive gold watch on his wrist reflected his enormous wealth. Elara frowned. "Can I help you?" she asked politely. Before the man with the briefcase could answer, the elderly gentleman stepped forward with a confident smile. "I believe you're Elara Vincent." "Yes... I am." "My name is Sherman." The moment Clara heard that name, her entire body stiffened. She slowly lifted her head. Fear flashed across her face. Elara noticed the sudden change in her mother's expression. "Mother... do you know him?" she asked. Clara remained speechless. Mr. Sherman calmly folded his hands behind his back before speaking. "First of all, allow me to express my deepest condolences. Mr. Vincent was a respectable man. May his soul rest in peace." Everyone nodded respectfully. "But," he continued, his smile returning, "I am not here merely to offer condolences. I am here because it is time for your family to fulfill its part of our agreement." The room instantly fell silent. Elara blinked in confusion. "Agreement?" she repeated. "What agreement?" Mr. Sherman turned toward the lawyer beside him. "Barrister Mike," he said. "Please read the document." The lawyer placed the briefcase on the table and carefully removed several neatly arranged documents. He adjusted his glasses before beginning. "This agreement was signed willingly by the late Mr. Vincent." Elara folded her arms. "I don't understand." The lawyer continued reading. "As witness to this contract, I acknowledge receiving financial assistance from Mr. Johnson Sherman for my medical expenses and treatment." Elara nodded slowly. She already knew about the money. Without it, her father wouldn't even have received treatment. Then the lawyer paused. "There is also a handwritten message." He looked toward Elara. "It is addressed to you." Her heart skipped. The lawyer began reading aloud. "My beloved daughter, Elara... if these words are ever read before you, then it means I am no longer alive. Forgive me for what I have done. I made this decision believing it was the only way to save my life and protect this family. Whether you hate me or not, I will understand. Please forgive your father." Elara felt tears sting her eyes. Her father's words pierced deeply into her heart. "What... what did he mean?" she whispered. The lawyer continued. "In exchange for the money borrowed from Mr. Johnson Sherman, I hereby give my daughter, Elara Vincent, to become his lawful wife." Silence. Absolute silence. The paper slipped from the lawyer's hand. Several mourners gasped loudly. "No..." Elara staggered backward. Her breathing became uneven. She slowly turned toward her mother. "Mother..." Her voice trembled. "Tell me this isn't true." Clara lowered her head. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks. "Answer me!" Elara shouted. "Did Father really... sell me?" The older woman finally broke down. "It is true." The words struck Elara harder than any slap. "No..." "We had no other choice," Clara cried. "Your father's condition became worse every day. Every hospital demanded money. We begged everywhere, but nobody helped us except Mr. Sherman." "So you sold me?" Elara screamed. "You sold your own daughter?" "It was to save your father." "Did it save him?" Her question echoed across the room. Nobody answered. "He still died!" Elara cried bitterly. "So what exactly did your sacrifice achieve?" Clara covered her face and sobbed. "I thought... I thought he would survive." Elara laughed painfully. "You and Dad exchanged my future for false hope." She pointed angrily at Mr. Sherman. "You should be ashamed of yourself." The elderly businessman merely smiled. "I don't see anything shameful." Elara stared at him with disgust. "You are old enough to be my father." "I know." "And you still agreed to marry me?" "I didn't simply agree," he replied confidently. "I desired it." The room became even quieter. Mr. Sherman took another step toward her. "I first saw you two years ago when you were returning from college." Elara frowned. "You were laughing with that young man..." He paused. "...Richard." Elara's eyes widened. Richard. Her closest friend from college. "Ever since that day," Sherman continued, "I knew I wanted you." Disgust crawled across Elara's skin. "So you've been watching me?" "I've admired you." "No." "You've been stalking me." Several people whispered among themselves. Some pitied Elara. Others secretly envied her, believing marrying a billionaire would change her life forever. Ignoring everyone's reactions, Elara looked directly into Sherman's eyes. "I would rather remain poor forever than marry someone like you." His smile slowly disappeared. "You don't have a choice." "I do." "You were exchanged legally." "I am not property." "You belong to me now." Her anger exploded. "I belong to nobody!" She stepped closer until only a few inches separated them. "My father had no right to sell me." "My mother had no right to agree." "And you have absolutely no right to call yourself my husband." Mr. Sherman's expression hardened. "I spent millions trying to save your father's life." "I never asked you to." "I invested in this family." "I am not your investment." "You are now." Elara shook her head firmly. "I will never become your wife." "Never." The old man's face darkened. "You are making a terrible mistake." "No." "The mistake was believing money could buy a human being." For the first time, Mr. Sherman lost his patience. He pointed a finger at her. "I'll give you three days." His voice echoed throughout the room. "Three days to reconsider." "If you refuse..." He leaned closer. "I will ensure you become my wife whether you like it or not." Gasps filled the room. Without another word, Sherman turned around and walked toward the exit. Barrister Mike quietly gathered the documents before following behind him. The expensive black SUV outside soon disappeared from sight. Inside the house, nobody dared to speak. Elara stood frozen. Her entire world had collapsed in less than ten minutes. Unable to hold herself together any longer, she rushed into her bedroom and slammed the door shut. She leaned against it before slowly sliding onto the floor. Tears rolled endlessly down her cheeks. "What kind of betrayal is this?" she whispered brokenly. "My own parents sold me..." She buried her face in her trembling hands. "I loved them." "I trusted them." "And this is how they repay me?" Her eyes wandered toward the mirror standing beside her wardrobe. The reflection staring back looked completely different from the confident university student she had been only days earlier. She looked frightened. Lost. Broken. Then another thought crossed her mind. "Richard..." She remembered the way Sherman had mentioned his name. How did that old man know about him? Had he truly been watching her for years? Or was there something far more dangerous hiding beneath this so-called agreement? Elara slowly wiped away her tears. For the first time since her father's death, one thought became clear in her heart. She would never allow anyone—not even the richest man in the city—to decide her future.