The Millionaire Faked an Accident to Test His Fiancée and Twins — Then the Maid Did the Unthinkable

Cassandra stared at him like he was a ghost climbing out of the grave.

“You weren’t paralyzed,” she breathed.

Marcus’s voice was steady now. “No.”

“You lied,” she hissed.

Marcus’s jaw tightened. “Yes.”

Cassandra’s eyes flared. “You set me up!”

Marcus’s gaze cut through her. “I gave you a stage,” he said. “You wrote the play.”

Her lips trembled, not from sadness but from rage. “You humiliated me!”

Marcus’s expression didn’t soften. “You humiliated yourself. You threatened my children. You tried to steal my companies while you thought I couldn’t stop you.”

Cassandra’s face contorted. “You were supposed to be mine,” she spat. “All of it. The money, the name, the life—”

Marcus let out a slow breath. “There it is,” he said quietly. “The truth, finally without makeup.”

Cassandra’s eyes darted around, searching for leverage, for allies. But the notary was gone. Naomi was gone with the twins. Ramon stood like a wall. Elliot stood like a judge.

Cassandra’s voice cracked into something panicked. “You can’t do this to me. The press—”

Elliot lifted his phone. “The press will love it,” he said. “Billionaire’s wife exposed as predator. Or fiancée, if you prefer the technicality.”

Cassandra stiffened. “Technicality?”

Marcus’s eyes didn’t leave hers. “We never filed the final marriage certificate,” he said. “You wanted the ceremony first. Remember? The photos. The magazine deal.”

Cassandra blinked, confused.

Marcus’s voice stayed calm. “Legally, you’re not my wife. You’re my fiancée.”

Her face drained of color.

Elliot spoke like he was reading weather. “Which means your access to his assets is limited. And your attempted power grab? It’s criminal, not marital.”

Cassandra’s mouth opened, but no sound came out at first.

Then she screamed.

A raw, furious sound that echoed off marble walls and expensive art.

Ramon nodded toward the doorway. “Police are on the way,” he said.

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