The Rise Of The Betrayed Wife

I died with blood pooling and betrayal.

My fiancé never loved me—he only wanted. My stepsister never saw me as family. And when I discovered I was carrying his child and tried to expose their affair, they shoved me into a shattered glass table and left me to bleed out alone.

But I woke up a year earlier, with my voice miraculously returned and a second chance burning in my chest.

This time, I refuse to be the silent, obedient sacrifice they used and discarded. This time, I'll make them pay. And when a ruthless billionaire offers me an impossible deal—a fake marriage to save his crumbling empire, I accept without hesitation.

They still see me as that broken, voiceless girl who couldn't fight back.

They have no idea I've already won.

Chapter One: I’m Dying?

Isla's POV:

The fluorescent lights above me buzzed faintly as I stared at Dr. Morrison's mouth, watching his lips move but not really hearing the words.

"...congratulations, Mrs. Hartley...six weeks along...the baby is healthy..."

Six weeks.

The words finally broke through the fog in my mind, settling in my chest like something both heavy and weightless at the same time.

I blinked slowly, my hands gripping the edge of the plastic chair. My palms were sweating. The room felt too bright, too small, and suddenly too real.

Pregnant. I was pregnant.

After three years of trying. Three years of negative tests and doctor appointments and Declan's mother calling me barren at every family dinner. Three years of feeling broken and incomplete.

My hand moved to my stomach, which was flat and unchanged, but somehow different now.

Dr. Morrison kept talking, saying something about prenatal vitamins and follow-up appointments and avoiding stress.

I nodded. I didn't know what I was agreeing to. I just needed a moment to process this. To understand that after all this time, I was finally going to be a mother.

Maybe this would change things. Maybe Declan would finally look at me the way he used to, before the wedding, before the disappointment set in. Maybe his mother would stop with the cruel comments. Maybe we could be a real family.

When Dr. Morrison finally finished, I stood up on shaky legs and signed a quick "thank you." He gave me a warm smile and handed me a folder of information before opening the door for me.

The hospital hallway stretched out before me, endless and sterile. My vision blurred at the edges, but this time it was definitely tears.

Happy tears, I told myself. These were supposed to be happy tears.

I walked forward, one foot in front of the other, clutching the pregnancy results against my chest like a shield. How was I supposed to go home and tell Declan? Should I make it special? Should I just show him the paper?

My mind spun with possibilities, with hope I hadn't let myself feel in so long.

My foot caught on something—maybe the edge of a floor mat,