The Fake Heiress And Her Obsessive Fiancé Chapter 03
After being with Wesley for so many years, it was only natural that I had feelings for him.
The night I accidentally discovered I wasn’t my parents’ biological daughter, my emotions were a tangled mess. Desperate for an outlet, I’d wanted to find Wesley—wanted to lose myself in him, just to release the pressure building inside my chest.
But that night, by chance, I overheard a conversation between him and several of his friends. “Wes, you’re really going to let Cristina control you for the rest of your life?”
“Everyone says you’re totally whipped—completely wrapped around a woman’s finger.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve actually fallen for Cristina?”
“Impossible!” Wesley said without hesitation. “Out of everyone in the world, she’s the last person I’d like.
“Cristina’s just fair and has a pair of beautiful eyes. She’s not even my type.
“If my grandfather hadn’t forced me into this engagement, I’d never have listened to a word she said.”
Standing outside the private room, I felt a flood of emotions surge through me.
All the faint, foolish hopes I’d secretly held about Wesley shattered in that moment.
I left the club quietly and wandered the streets alone for a long time before finally heading home.
“He said it himself,” I told Flossie, pressing my lips together. “He can’t wait to break off the engagement.”
Flossie opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something. She looked at me hesitantly, but in the end, she said nothing.
I told her what I was worried about.
I’d always been a person who lived for her pride.
Once the news broke that I was not a Lambert, and the Haydens inevitably called off the wedding, the whispers and mockery from our social circle would be deafening.
So I decided that before my parents’ real daughter was found, I’d break off the engagement with Wesley first.
Without me keeping tabs on him, Wesley hadn’t come home for several days.
Normally, if he wasn’t back before midnight, I’d either bombard him with messages on WhatsApp or go find him myself.
That night, just as I was about to go to sleep, Wesley’s lackey, Liam Phillips, suddenly sent me a video.
“Cristina, Wes insists on ordering a companion tonight. Why don’t you come over and rein him in?”
I tapped the video open.
Wesley lounged lazily on a sofa, and standing in front of him was a girl with a sweet, innocent look.
My chest tightened. So he had already taken my words to heart.
“Alright. I got it.”
I turned off my phone. But Liam sent another video.
This time, Wesley had his arm around the girl, slipping a bank card into her hands. “My fiancée doesn’t control me anymore,” he said casually. “Show me everything you’ve got.”
My eyes stung. Without hesitation, I deleted Liam from my contacts.
Before ending the engagement, I planned to move out of Wesley’s house first.
This place had been prepared by the Hayden family as our marital home, but since the wedding was never going to happen, there was no reason for me to stay.
After a few days of searching, I found a layout I liked and headed over to sign the lease.
When I stepped out of the elevator, I unexpectedly ran into Terrence Aston, a senior from my university days.
We chatted and laughed as we walked toward the exit together.
And right at the entrance, we ran straight into a very familiar figure.
Wesley stared at Terrence and me.
His eyes were filled with a mix of disbelief, anger, and something that looked unsettlingly like panic.
Then his eyes shifted to my face. The rims of his eyes were faintly red as he ground out through clenched teeth. “Cristina, who is he? Don’t forget—you already have a fiancé.”
“Not for much longer,” I murmured under my breath.
Wesley froze. Then, he rushed forward and grabbed my shoulders, his fingertips turning pale from the force of his grip.
His breathing grew ragged, and his eyes glimmered with a thin sheen of anger. “Cristina,” he snarled, “are you seriously going to throw me away for this guy?”
My lips parted—I was about to say something—but Wesley suddenly dragged me into his car.
His lips crashed down on mine, then he bit down hard on my earlobe. “Cristina, we grew up together! We’re childhood sweethearts! Who the hell does he think he is?!”
“Let go!” I pushed at him, but his lips had already moved down to my collarbone.
“Cristina, you’re telling me to go?”
His hand slid along the side of my leg as he leaned down again, his voice low and threatening. “Try stepping out of this car. I dare you. I’ll kiss you right in front of him.”
