Not Your Double: I'm His Bride Now

Three years ago, my father marries me off to Evan Blackwell, the CEO of Blackwell Group, for the family's interests. Everyone thinks I'm done for because Evan is known for being ruthless and cruel.

Yet, he's nothing but gentle to me, and he never raises his voice at me. He even has my initials, SH, tattooed on his chest.

Every year on our anniversary, fireworks bloom across the city right on the dot. They spell out my name and the loving words he dedicates to me.

On our third anniversary, the fireworks suddenly replace my name, Selena Holloway, with Serena Harroway.

Before I can ask about it, Evan immediately calls his subordinates and tears into them. "What's going on? How could you mess up my wife's name? Do you want to lose your jobs?"

I hastily tell him it's fine and that the thought is what truly matters. In the end, he lets them off the hook. However, he pushes me until my legs are shaking and my voice is gone that night.

When I wake from the night that leaves my whole body humming, he's already seated at his desk and buried in work. He asks me to grab a folder for him, yet I open the wrong drawer and stumble upon an old photo album.

It contains intimate photos of him and a young woman who looks strikingly like me. There's a confession on the back of every single picture. "I miss you so much, Serena."

Selena's Point of View

While I was bringing some documents to my CEO husband, I accidentally stumbled upon his secret. It seemed another woman had always lived in his heart.

So, that was it. My hand trembled as I held the photo.

"Selena? Did you not find the documents?" Evan Blackwell's voice rang out from outside the room. I came back to my senses, put the photo album back in the drawer, and pulled out the documents from the correct one.

When I handed them to Evan, he kissed the back of my hand like he always did. Yet, I couldn't force a smile. I simply left the room in silence.

Evan froze for a moment. He wanted to chase after me, but after glancing at his watch, he stopped in his tracks.

I was well aware of the reason he hesitated. Serena Harroway was returning to the country that day.

I saw the last sentence in the photo album. "Serena, you're finally back. I won't let go of your hand again."

He had written a promise about a future with someone else on the day of our third wedding anniversary. I felt a dull ache in my chest, and I immediately asked my lawyer to draft a divorce agreement.

After hanging up, I ran into Evan, who was hurrying out the door. He had changed into a bespoke suit and was tugging anxiously at his tie.

I had never seen him like this. He looked like a teen who was getting