Chapter 1

I stood by Tristan Fuller for five years when he was disabled.

But the moment he recovered, he married the woman he had always loved. The one who abandoned him when he needed her most. All for company shares.

He deceived me with a fake marriage license, promising we would have our wedding next month.

I smiled and accepted it, then flew ten thousand miles away to New Zealand.

Five years later, I returned as a ruthless investment banker to acquire his company.

In the rain, he begged me to come back.

But I held my husband's hand and walked past, leaving his wheelchair behind.

"Mr. Fuller, this is my wife. Please get out of the way."

Jane's POV

In the most upscale custom jewelry center downtown, soft music flowed through the VIP room.

Tristan Fuller and I sat side by side on the velvet sofa.

We were sharing a pair of Bluetooth earbuds, listening to a gentle love song together.

Tristan lowered his head, his long fingers holding a brilliant diamond ring as he gently slipped it onto my ring finger.

"Perfect fit."

He looked at my hand, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Do you like it?"

He was usually aloof, but now his eyes were brimming with adoration.

I looked up at him, about to nod, when an abrupt phone ring shattered the warm atmosphere.

Tristan frowned slightly and pulled out his phone, glancing at the screen.

One name appeared on the screen: Gabriel. Tristan's closest friend.

Tristan removed the left earbud and pressed the answer button.

To keep the store employees from hearing the conversation, he habitually switched the audio to Bluetooth mode.

But he forgot that the other earbud was still firmly in my right ear.

"Tristan, have you lost your mind?!"

Gabriel's voice, barely containing his fury, came through the earbud loud and clear.

Tristan's expression didn't change. He spoke calmly into the phone.

"I'm helping Jane pick out her wedding ring. What's wrong?"

A sharp intake of breath came from the other end. After a few seconds, Gabriel finally exploded.

"You're still helping her pick out a wedding ring? Didn't you just marry Sarah this morning?!"

"What the hell are you thinking! When you had that car accident and became disabled, Sarah despised you for being a cripple and immediately went abroad with someone else. Now, to get that 15% of shares from the Morrison family, you actually went through with a marriage alliance with her?!"

Every word from Gabriel hit me like a punch to the gut.

The blood drained from my face. I felt like I'd been plunged into ice water.

In my right ear, Gabriel's interrogation continued, but Tristan sitting beside me remained perfectly composed.

He even reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, then spoke lightly into the phone.

"Tomorrow is Fuller Group's shareholder meeting. I must secure the Morrison family shares to solidify my position as CEO. The title of Mrs. Fuller is just a bargaining chip I'm using to trade for those shares."

"What about Jane!"

Gabriel roared through the phone.

"During those five years you were disabled, who massaged your legs day and night? Who stayed with you through that hellish rehabilitation? She loved you enough to give her life for you, and for some shares, you give the legal wife position to someone else?!"

Tristan's expression remained unchanged despite Gabriel's fury.

"Jane wants my love, not a piece of paper. I'll keep it from her. She'll never know about this."

"How long can you hide it? You can't keep something like this a secret forever! Jane is supposed to have a wedding with you next month!"

A flash of irritation crossed Tristan's eyes, and his tone grew heavier.

"Keep this quiet. No one is allowed to say anything about my marriage to Sarah. I'll still give Jane that grand wedding next month. I'll have someone make a fake marriage certificate for her. As long as she stays by my side, I can give her everything except the title."

After saying this, he hung up directly.

A busy signal came through the earbud.

My whole body trembled, nausea churning in my stomach.

I bit my lower lip hard, forcibly suppressing the urge to retch.

Tristan put away his phone and was about to turn to speak to me when the screen lit up again.

It was the special notification tone for priority messages.

Tristan paused, clicked it open, and glanced at it.

Just one glance, and the irritation in his eyes instantly vanished, replaced by barely concealed anxiety.

He stood up and methodically adjusted the cuffs of his suit.

"Jane, there's an emergency meeting at the company. I need to go right away. Pick out the ring you like, charge it directly to my card, then take a cab home, okay?"

His tone was soft and gentle, like the perfect fiancé.

I looked at this well-dressed man before me and said nothing, only nodding woodenly.

Tristan didn't even wait for me to remove the ring. He turned and pulled open the VIP room door, striding away.

The moment the door closed, I collapsed against the sofa back.

Tears fell without warning.

Tristan didn't know that his supposedly perfect act had been completely betrayed by that Bluetooth earbud forgotten in my ear.

Every word, every sentence-like poison-tipped knives, shredding my heart into bloody pieces.

All those memories I'd deliberately buried deep in my heart were now dredged up.

Tristan was a lofty heir to a wealthy family, while I was merely the daughter of the Fuller family driver.

That year, I followed my father into the Fuller mansion and immediately saw Tristan sitting in a wheelchair, gloomy and irritable.

He'd been in a car accident and lost all feeling in his legs. Doctors had determined he would spend his life in a wheelchair.

And his childhood fiancée Sarah, the day after learning this news, unilaterally announced the engagement was off and flew abroad.

The Fuller family had no shortage of healthy heirs. The disabled Tristan was quickly marginalized, thrown into a villa on the city outskirts to fend for himself.

I took the initiative to ask my father and became the caregiver who looked after him at the villa.

For those five years, his temper was explosive. He smashed things, went on hunger strikes, even self-harmed.

I just silently followed behind him, cleaning up the wreckage.

When he knocked over hot soup onto the back of my hand, causing large blisters, I only endured the pain and continued massaging his atrophying muscles.

Later, I heard about a retired neurological authority abroad. I ran to the person's door and begged in the snow for a full day and night, securing the chance for Tristan to have surgery.

The surgery was successful. Tristan stood up again.

He seized control of Fuller Group with ruthless tactics, becoming the most influential power player in their circle.

I was the one who accompanied him through those five darkest years. I was the one who stayed with him through rehabilitation sessions where he broke out in cold sweats from pain. I was the one who kissed him, embraced him, and shared his bed.

But I never imagined that the first thing he would do after reaching the top was to give the title of wife to Sarah the woman who had abandoned him. All to secure his power.

He even planned to trap me with a grand wedding and a fake marriage certificate, keeping me as his dirty little secret.