He Abandoned Me For His Stepsister, I Returned As An heiress.

CHAPTER ONE

On our fifth wedding anniversary, I tried one last desperate attempt to seduce my husband, Alpha Derek who has never touched me.

I wore the black lace lingerie that had cost me a month's salary and lit candles around our bedroom.

When he walked in, his eyes barely looked over my naked body before he checked his watch.

"I have a meeting with the pack in ten minutes," he said flatly. "Can you put some clothes on? And blow out those candles before you burn the house down, you know how much I paid for these curtains."

As he turned to leave, he paused at the doorway. "And for God's sake, get rid of that lingerie. It doesn't suit your body type."

That night, I filed for divorce.

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"Pour me another," I demanded, sliding my empty glass across my sister Bianca's kitchen island.

"I still can't believe you stayed with that emotionless block of ice for many years," Bianca said, pouring herself a glass. "But finally you've come to your senses. The pack needs you back where you belong."

I downed the rest of my whiskey. "Five years, Bianca. Five years I'll never get back, trying to warm a man who wanted to stay frozen."

"Well, it's over now, Hazel." she reached across to refill my glass. "The Northern Lake pack has been waiting for their heiress. Plus, Damon's still unmarried, you know what Dad always wanted."

I sighed. "As soon as my lawyer prepares the divorce papers, I'm coming home. It's time the heiress reclaimed her birthright."

"That's my girl," Bianca smirked as we clinked our glasses together.

That night I got home earlier than I told Derek I would. The house was quiet at first, then I heard strange moaning sounds coming from upstairs.

I followed the noises through our home. They led me to that room Derek always declared off-limits to me, claiming it was his private workspace.

When I pushed the door open, I nearly choked at what I saw.

Derek stood completely naked, aggressively thrusting hard into a mannequin that had a photograph plastered on it. I recognized it immediately. It was his stepsister Tara's face attached to the lifeless figure.

"Oh Tara, I miss you so much," he moaned. "No one will ever replace you. Not even her."

Looking around the room made me sick. The walls surrounding him were covered with countless photographs of Tara in various states of undress, smiling, sleeping, and even showering. In the corner stood a shrine with her panties displayed like trophies.

A recorder played repeatedly in the background, "Derek, how are you doing? I miss how you made me feel whole."

"Tara, Tara, I'm cumming," Derek cried out passionately.

I retreated silently but the floor made a sound below my foot, Derek didn't hear. He was too lost in his sick fantasy, moaning his stepsister's name as he approached his climax.

I should have known from the beginning that Derek's heart belonged elsewhere.

I first saw Derek volunteering at the children's orphanage, his kindness towards the children captivated me instantly. I fell hard and fast, convinced I'd found someone truly exceptional.

We dated and when he was about to propose, he simply slid the ring across the restaurant table and said, This is yours now. I was too blinded by love to see how cold that was.

Our honeymoon night should have been special. We were finally alone in our hotel room when his phone rang. It was Tara, his stepsister, crying about a nightmare. Derek left immediately and he didn't come back that night.

When he returned the next afternoon, he smelled like her perfume and had a hickey he claimed was a mosquito bite.

Once, I found him in our shower pleasuring himself to Tara's high school portrait. When confronted, he said the photo accidentally fell into the bathroom. I found more photos hidden inside his pillow that night.

Every attempt made to have sex was met with reasons all connected to Tara. She needed help moving furniture. She felt sick. She wanted company for dinner. She called with another crisis.

I tried everything humanly possible to win his attention. Explicit movies to create mood, I booked Expensive restaurant reservations, losing weight but nothing worked. He would always find a reason to leave early or not show up at all.

Now it all made sense. Derek never wanted me. He wanted Tara and I was just a cover.

That night, I slept in the garage unable to face our bed. By morning, my phone showed seventeen missed calls from Derek. I finally answered the eighteenth.

"Where have you been?" he demanded. "I waited all night yesterday. I even hired the best chefs for our anniversary dinner. I thought we could finally be intimate."

"Go celebrate with Tara instead," I said coldly. "I'm sure she'll appreciate your efforts more than me."

"Don't start with your insecurities again. I've prepared everything for us to finally consummate this marriage."

"Save your performance. I'm meeting with my lawyer today. Divorce papers will be ready soon."

"Divorce me? You can't—"

"Goodbye Derek." Before he could respond, I ended the call.