The president's secret wife

The sunlight filtered through the pale blue curtains and struck her face like a slap. She stirred, groggy and numb, her head aching as though it had been cracked open. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, only to shut again when the brightness overwhelmed her. After a moment, she reopened them—this time with care—allowing her pupils to adjust gradually to the piercing light. Where was she? She tried sitting up, her limbs feeling oddly heavy and foreign, like they weren’t hers. Her head throbbed with a dull ache as her mind tried to claw through the fog. She glanced around the room—it was unfamiliar, luxurious, yet cold. Her brows furrowed as she reached for the quilt covering her. Her breath hitched. She was naked. Her heart began to race. Confusion twisted into panic. Why wasn’t she wearing her clothes? She gripped the quilt tighter, pulling it around her body as if it would somehow shield her from what her mind had already begun to suspect. The events of the previous night returned in fragments. Laura... yes, Laura had helped her into a room after the party. Everything else was a blur—a void. No. Not everything. A sudden rush of dread filled her chest. Her hands trembled as she flung back the quilt again, this time more desperately. Her eyes zeroed in on the signs. The bloodstain. The dark, blooming hickeys scattered across her thighs. The raw ache between her legs. She had been violated. Tears welled up in her eyes but refused to fall. Her throat clenched, as though she had swallowed a rock. Her fingers curled into the bedsheet, her breath shallow and uneven. No… no, no, no… she was married. This couldn’t happen. This shouldn’t have happened. Her first time… stolen. By a stranger. Or worse—someone she knew. Dave. Her husband. She shut her eyes in anguish. There was no explaining this, no way to defend herself. Their marriage wasn’t one of love, but they had made a vow to give it time, to nurture the relationship before taking any step toward intimacy. And now? She had nothing left to give. Shaking, she slipped off the bed and picked up her crumpled dress from the floor. Her body ached with every movement, her muscles sore, her spirit shattered. She dragged herself toward the bathroom, clutching the dress to her chest like a shield. But the door swung open. And in walked Dave Li, his arm draped possessively around none other than Laura Jin—her sister. Behind them stood Nancy Li, Dave’s mother, her lips already twisted into a venomous sneer. “Well,” Nancy said coldly, eyes narrowing as they surveyed the stained sheets. “It’s true. She was taken. Get the photos of the bedspread. That should be enough.” Lauretta stood frozen in place, clutching the bathroom doorframe, her knees weakening. “I have all the evidence I need to divorce her and finally marry the love of my life,” Dave said with chilling indifference, leaning down to plant a brazen kiss on Laura’s lips. Laura giggled like a teenager. “Easy, my love. Soon I’ll be yours completely. The obstacle is out of the way.” Lauretta’s mouth fell open. Her ears rang. Obstacle? They had planned this. Dave. Laura. Her own sister. The drink last night—was it drugged? She waited, still and quiet, until their footsteps faded from the hallway. Her hands gripped the doorknob until her knuckles turned white. Then, slowly, she emerged, fully dressed now, her face pale and cold. Without another glance at the room that had become her prison, she left. Not long after, the door creaked open once more. A man stepped inside. He scanned the room, empty now, and pulled out his phone. “Hello, boss,” Peter Mo said into the receiver. “The woman is gone. But don't worry I'll send you proof of her innocence”. He snapped a few photos of the bedspread, noting details with a sharp, trained eye. Lauretta Jin had always been a composed woman. She never cried in front of people. She was raised that way—strong, restrained, proud. Her marriage to Dave Li had never been based on love; it was a business transaction orchestrated by her stepmother. An arranged match between two powerful families. A merger more than a union. They’d been married for only four months. They had promised to be patient, to build some foundation of affection before becoming intimate. But that never happened. Dave had never treated her like a wife. And now… this? A setup. She had been sacrificed. Tears threatened to rise again, but she swallowed them down. She needed to get out. She took a cab back home, numb to everything—the motion of the vehicle, the honking outside, the stares of the driver. Her body sat upright, but her soul felt crumpled and bruised. The mansion loomed ahead like a guillotine. She walked in and immediately felt the weight of burning eyes. Nancy Li stood in the center of the sitting room like a judge waiting to deliver a sentence. Her gaze was fierce, malicious. “Well, well, the w***e returns,” she spat. Before Lauretta could speak, Dave stormed in behind her, fury in his eyes. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” he barked. “Sleeping around like a common street girl! What were you thinking? Are you that desperate?” Lauretta's eyes widened in disbelief. The hypocrisy of it all threatened to suffocate her. “I see,” she said through clenched teeth. “So this is the narrative you’re going with.” Dave’s voice grew louder. “This marriage is over! I can’t turn a blind eye anymore. You’ve embarrassed me and this family.” “You’re disgusting,” Lauretta snapped. “You drugged your own wife just to create a scandal, all so you could run off with my sister?” Dave faltered. “How do you—” “Oh, spare me. I know everything. You and Laura plotted this. The drink? I didn’t get drunk by accident.” Nancy Li surged forward like a thunderstorm. “You dare accuse my son without proof? b***h! You should bury your face in shame! What kind of woman lets another man defile her?” “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll sign the divorce papers now,” Dave growled. “Or I’ll destroy every piece of dignity you have left.” Lauretta turned and started walking upstairs. But Nancy lunged. She grabbed Lauretta’s hair and yanked her backward, dragging her down to the floor. Lauretta screamed as pain shot through her scalp, her body already fragile and sore. Nancy didn’t let up—she shouted insults, cursed her existence, called her leftovers, a slut, worthless. Lauretta barely had the strength to resist. Her body sagged under the weight of her injuries and the fresh torment. Then everything went black. When she next opened her eyes, three days had passed. The hospital ceiling swam above her. An IV line fed into her arm. The ache in her chest hadn’t gone. The silence was deafening. She looked around. No one was there. Alone again. Her stepmother’s words echoed in her head. You will marry into the Li family. It's settled. She had never been given a choice. Never allowed to dream her own dreams. Her sister, Laura, had always been the preferred one. And now she understood why—Laura was meant to marry the heir of the Yu family. Lauretta was just the placeholder, the sacrifice to secure connections, while Laura waited for her perfect match. But fate hadn’t been kind to any of them. Yu Shawn returned from abroad married already. That infuriated his parents, and they stripped him of all inheritance. Laura’s grand plan had failed. So she turned to Dave Li—second son of the Li family—while destroying the only person who stood in her way: her sister. Lauretta’s eyes burned, but she didn’t cry. She wouldn’t give them that power. She was still lost in thought when the door creaked open. A shadow stretched across the floor. A man entered her hospital room.