After 88 Betrayals, I Married the Rich Impotent Heir

At the wedding, the adopted sister of basketball star fiancé Arthur’s sends a picture of a pregnancy test.

Without hesitation, he abandoned me on the spot, leaving me stunned and humiliated before all our guests.

Soon after, for the 84th time—their intimate video was sent to my phone

The first time was during our fifth anniversary date. Arthur left midway, claiming he had to work overtime. Half an hour later, I received a video of him entangled in a pool with Jennica.

The second time was on my birthday. I waited until the candles melted into wax puddles, only to receive a video of them sharing a romantic kiss beneath a meteor shower.

...

This time, Jennica wore a pure white wedding gown, as she straddled Arthur’s strong waist atop a bed made of 9,999 roses. Her body swaying with every movement, her misty eyes brimming with bold provocation

Immediately after, Arthur sent me a message.

[Jennica’s lung cancer is flaring up. I can’t leave her now.]

I laughed through red-rimmed eyes at his another lie.

Yanking off the suffocating ring, I kicked off the heels that had bloodied my feet, and through my tears—apologized to the guests for his disgraceful behavior.

I swallowed every ounce of hurt, just to wait for his 88th betrayal—the same number of times he had proposed to me. That 88th would mark the moment I truly walked away.

But when I went on to marry the infertile heir of the Jordan family in a flash wedding, why did Arthur suddenly drop to his knees, crying and begging me to come back?

###Chapter 1

After cleaning up the mess Arthur left behind, I dialed a number.

"Do you still want to marry me? Let’s register the marriage—now."

Two hours later, I held our marriage certificate close to my chest, watching Hendrix’s plane take off for his meeting.

Turning away, I got into the car he had arranged for me and silently began saying goodbye to Arthur.

When I opened the door to the apartment, I was shocked to find Arthur in the kitchen, busy cooking.

Seeing me, he gently pulled me into his arms and kissed the tears from my eyes, apologizing over and over.

"I'm sorry, Faith. I promise—I’ll give you the grandest wedding to make up for everything."

But how could I still dream of that kind of wedding when the one I had already broke me completely?

My eyes drifted to the pot of pumpkin porridge on the counter, and my empty stomach growled loudly.

Arthur quickly stepped in to block my view and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"That’s for Jennica... to help her recover. How about I order you some takeout?"

My chest tightened. Instinctively, I pressed the marriage certificate harder against me, trying not to let the humiliation show.

"No need. I'm not hungry."

He used to say, “These hands are for dominating the NBA—I have to protect them at all costs.”

In all our years together, he never even toasted a slice of bread for me.

But now, he had cooked for Jennica.

"Let me make you breakfast tomorrow. For today... just make do with me."

Tears welled in my eyes as his warm body pinned me against the counter. His kisses and touches reignited long-lost passion, and though I tried to resist, my fingers curled into his shirt, melting into his embrace.

Just as our bodies were tangled in desire, his ringtone rang—the one he set exclusively for Jennica.

"Arthur, my chest hurts so much... am I dying?"

Without hesitation, he pushed me away and hurriedly straightened his clothes.

"Jennica is having another episode—I need to be with her. Faith, wait for me at home."

He didn’t even look back as he grabbed the porridge and rushed out—just like he always did.

Ever since Jennica became the Sullivan family’s foster daughter, she’d frequently "stay over" at our place.

Countless nights, when Arthur and I were in the middle of something intimate, she’d barge in with red eyes, claiming she’d had a nightmare.

At first, he would get annoyed and tell her to be more considerate. But at some point, things changed.

He started rushing to her side every time she whimpered in fear, barely sparing me a glance before disappearing into her room for the entire night.

Whenever she called claiming to feel unwell, he’d leave—no matter what we were doing.

Since Jennica showed up, I could count on both hands the number of times Arthur and I had been intimate.

Because she had become more important to him than I ever was.

Just like today.

He left me again—even though I was three months pregnant—to be with his "delicate" foster sister.

But not long after he left, I saw posts from various basketball stars flooding social media, celebrating Arthur’s wedding party.

There he was, my fiancé, dressed in a groom’s suit. His supposedly “ill” bride— smiling radiantly, wearing the wedding dress from their steamy photo shoot—stood beside him under a sky full of fireworks.

The internet exploded with blessings for the NBA’s newest superstar couple.

I fought to stop my body from trembling and closed the blinding screen full of joyous celebrations that had nothing to do with me.

'This was the 85th time, Arthur.

I will only wait for you until the 88th. That’s how many times you proposed in our six years together. That’s also my final limit for tolerating your betrayal.'

Suddenly, a sharp pain twisted in my lower abdomen.

Cold sweat drenched my forehead as I clutched the sofa, my fingers fumbling to dial his number.

"Arthur... it hurts... please, take me to the hospital."

"Faith?! What’s wrong?"

Before I could answer, I heard her again—Jennica’s frail voice in the distance.

"Arthur... I can’t breathe..."

He hesitated for a moment, then spoke apologetically.

"Faith, I really can’t get away right now. Call a car and go to the hospital yourself."

Before I could respond, the line went dead.

It’s okay. I’m used to this.

I called for an ambulance myself.

As soon as I arrived at the hospital, another video notification popped up.

A man stood in a pool, his arms wrapped around a girl sitting at the edge.

Even from the back, I recognized that powerful, masculine figure—it was Arthur.

He bent down and kissed the girl’s stomach gently.

"I’ll take care of you and our baby for the rest of my life."

Once, our nanny betrayed the Henderson family and destroyed my home.

Arthur once swore to me, “There will never be lies or betrayal between us. I’ll protect you for life. If I break that promise, let lightning strike me down.”

He knelt in the rain before my parents’ grave for an entire day and night.

When I finally said yes to his 88th proposal, I was in tears.

After the proposal, burning with fever, he still pulled me into his arms.

"Don’t be scared. I’m here. I’ll hold up the sky if it ever falls."

He kept that promise—he treated me like a treasure.

But on the day we were supposed to take the next step into marriage, I received provocative photos from his foster sister.

The man who said he would shield me from all storms... became the one who hurt me the most.

I turned off my phone. The doctor’s voice sounded by my ear.

"You’re just overworked. A little rest and you’ll be fine. But why are you, a pregnant woman, coming to the hospital alone at midnight? Where is your husband?"

I smiled. "My fiancé is dead. And the baby? I don’t want it anymore.”