Wyatt Evans spent eight years consumed by his obsession for me, his greatest love—an unattainable desire he could never truly possess.

To make me his, he didn’t hesitate to use my adoptive parents as pawns in his twisted game, driving them to depression and, eventually, to their deaths. When that wasn’t enough, he locked me away like a prized possession in a grand manor on the outskirts of the city, isolated from the world.

Until a woman who looked just enough like me to satisfy his obsession entered the picture. For the first time, I felt a sense of relief.

Since then, he began catering to the substitute's every whim. However, one day, that woman, emboldened by his favor, suddenly stormed into the manor. She claimed she was going to be Wyatt's wife, screeching about "beating the mistress and defending the wife." She hurled insults at me and even physically assaulted me.

To make matters worse, I was stripped and humiliated live on the internet through her phone! She even beat me to the point of causing a miscarriage!

And in times like this, the man who once cherished me completely changed. He threw a pile of money in my face and sneered, "Hart, is this enough for you to get lost?!"

——

Later, I found out that Wyatt thought he had found a wealthier young lady who resembled me to take my place. What he didn’t realize was that his substitute was merely the daughter of our housemaid.

For eight long years, Wyatt Evans had been obsessed with me. He sacrificed everything—the Evans family fortune, his business empire—all for a chance to win my heart.

But when I refused his twisted affection, he used my parents and family to threaten me, leading them to their tragic end. After that, Wyatt locked me away in a sprawling, luxurious prison on the outskirts of his estate—a gilded cage disguised as a manor. His men kept watch, ensuring I could never escape. Night after night, I cried myself to sleep, knowing I was nothing more than his caged canary—a prized possession he could never truly have.

His obsession never wavered, no matter how cold I was, no matter how much I recoiled from his touch. He sought me out, over and over again, like a moth drawn to the flame, never tiring of the chase. It went on for nearly two years.

Until recently, Wyatt seemed to have met a woman named Yvonne Marshall, who bore a seven or eight out of ten resemblance to me. Rumor had it she was the daughter of a wealthy family.

For the first time in years, I felt a flicker of relief. Maybe he would finally leave me alone.

For a brief moment, I felt a false sense of relief, but then the family doctor, who visited regularly, suddenly discovered that I was pregnant.

I didn't know how to feel. With that occupying my mind, I had only managed to eat a simple lunch, after which I planned to return to my room to rest.

But as I passed the kitchen, I overheard some whispered conversations.

“Isn't this the manor we're staying in? Who’s this woman causing a scene? Why come all the way out here?"

“Look at her banner—what does it say? ‘Down with the mistress, defend the wife’? We have so many maids here—who's shameless enough to become a mistress?”

“Yeah, we’d better suppress this matter quickly, or if Sir Wyatt finds out, we’ll all be in trouble.”

The maids were gossiping while cleaning up, their voices carrying just enough for me to catch the tension in their words. My curiosity piqued, I walked toward them, absently rubbing my belly as I approached. The phone on the counter was playing a live stream, and I couldn’t help but glance at the screen.

“What’s going on? Is there a commotion outside?” I asked, now looking at our maids.

“Ma'am,” awkwardly greeted our maids, who had been chattering but suddenly fell silent.

I said nothing and gazed back at the phone still playing the live stream.

“You shameless woman! Seducing my boyfriend and even living in such a big manor? Are you just desperate to steal someone else's man and become his mistress?”

A sharp, vulgar voice came from the phone, followed by a chorus of enraged women cheering in support, which made my blood boil.

"That's right! We’ve stood by our men through thick and thin, and we won’t let these tramps take what’s ours! Let’s help Yvonne show her who’s boss! Let’s beat the mistress until she learns her lesson!"

“Down with the mistress! Defend the wife!”

“Down with the mistress! Defend the wife!”

Watching the group of enraged women in the live stream, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of righteous indignation.

The chat was flooded with angry comments, cursing the mistress and her entire family, their hatred so intense it sent shivers down my spine.

Sighing, I turned back to the maids standing nearby. Feeling a bit sympathetic for the poor woman being attacked, I decided to speak up.

“Find out which person in the manor is involved with this woman’s boyfriend," I instructed coldly. "When you find her, hand her over to that woman to deal with.”

As such, I gently rubbed my belly, not wanting the situation to escalate, and was about to head off to rest.

But before I could leave, the air was split by a blood-curdling scream from the front gate. I frowned, barely having time to react before the glass door was shattered by a group of women.

The next moment, a heavy phone was hurled at my forehead, followed by the frantic screams of the crowd around me. “You shameless woman! Seducing my boyfriend—do you think you can get away with it? You deserve to die!”

The world around me spiraled into chaos the moment that phone struck my head. I barely had time to process the shock before a group of furious women burst through the shattered glass, their faces twisted with rage. The leader—a stranger with fire in her eyes—strode towards me, her hand swinging wide. Before I could defend myself, her slap landed with a brutal crack against my cheek.

"You're Hart Young, aren't you?! You filthy homewrecker! When did you start seducing my boyfriend?!"

The slap was delivered with full force, and before I could recover from the pain of being hit by the phone, I was struck again, causing me to be stunned and unable to speak.

"Not gonna talk, huh?! Playing dumb?! Let's see how long you can keep up with this act!" the woman shouted before raising her hand again, slapping the other side of my face. Her voice pierced the air, Her voice pierced the air, "You, bitch! Ladies, it's her, the one who seduced my boyfriend! I'll beat this tramp to death!"

"Yeah! Beat her! That shameless mistress! Seducing someone else's boyfriend and even clinging to him to live in such a big, beautiful manor!" The angry voices of the surrounding women echoed. I hadn’t even grasped what was happening, only feeling the fire in my heart flare up.

In a flash, I grabbed the stranger’s hand before it could land on my face again and snapped, "You've got the wrong person! I’ve never seduced anyone’s boyfriend, I don’t even know who you are!"

I angrily refuted, looking up at the unfamiliar woman in front of me. But as she studied my face, she froze for a brief moment, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. Then, without warning, she lunged at me, yanking my hair so violently that my head slammed against the wall with a sickening thud.

"You shameless tramp!" she hissed, pulling me closer. "You even got plastic surgery to look like me just to seduce Wyatt!"

"Ladies, look at this! This shameless mistress actually got plastic surgery to look like me, trying to imitate me and seduce my boyfriend!" she even announced loudly.

As her voice fell, gasps of shock rippled through the mob. And that’s when it hit me—this woman was Yvonne Marshall, Wyatt's new obsession. The one who supposedly resembled me. The one the maids whispered about.

I tried to break free, clutching my stomach as I fought her grip, but the force of my head hitting the wall left me dizzy, my vision swimming in and out of focus.

"Yvonne! Are you crazy?! I’m Wyatt’s legal wife!" I finally shouted, mustering enough strength to slap her hand away from my hair. The pain made me scream, the cool air on my scalp revealing how much hair she had torn out.

"Wyatt’s legal wife?! You?" Yvonne’s laughter was sharp and deranged, echoing like nails on glass. "Hart, you are truly delusional. Who do you think you are to call yourself his wife?"

Her eyes darkened with venom, her lips curling into a smirk. "I am the woman Wyatt has always loved. You? You’re nothing. Do you really think that just because you went under the knife to look like me, you could ever replace me? Wyatt’s been with me from the very beginning. You’re just a pathetic stand-in, a mistress trying to play house," Yvonne spat venomously, her expression growing more twisted by the second.

"But let me make something clear," she continued, her voice cold and sharp. "I’m about to marry Wyatt. Soon, I’ll be the real Mrs. Evans. You? You’re just a gold-digging tramp, trying to claw your way into a life that was never yours. Today, I’m going to teach you what happens to whores who try to steal what’s mine."

As soon as Yvonne finished speaking, the group of women behind her appeared even more menacing, sharpening their knives. Before I had time to react, they seized me by the arms, pinning me down with ruthless force, and the sound of loud slaps echoed in quick succession.

These women were mostly in their thirties, nearing middle age, and each of them looked furious. They slapped me from both sides, as if determined to give me a thorough lesson on behalf of Yvonne. After just a couple of slaps, I could feel my cheeks swelling up, and everything before my eyes blurred.

"You thought you were tough, huh?!" Yvonne’s voice hissed like venom in my ear, her hand delivering yet another sharp slap to my face. "I dare you to seduce another man, you shameless tramp!"

Yvonne spat insults at me, her hand showing no mercy as she delivered more slaps. I was left with no chance to speak.

Despair welled up inside me. When I tried to open my mouth, only a hoarse sound escaped.

Could she really be this bold? Was she really going to kill me?

But I was Wyatt's legal wife. He had trapped me in this cursed manor, forced me to sign a marriage contract, had it notarized, and I’d even seen our marriage certificate with my own eyes. How could I possibly be the mistress?

Suddenly, a panicked voice pierced through the chaos.

“Good heavens—!”

The frantic scream came from the top of the spiral staircase. A maid, breathless with terror, rushed down, her eyes wide with shock. "What are you doing to Ma’am Hart?! If Sir Wyatt finds out that his wife—"

Before she could finish, Yvonne turned on her and spat directly in her face, her expression twisted with arrogance and fury. "His wife?" Yvonne sneered, her eyes narrowing in contempt. "Everyone in San Francisco knows Wyatt loves me! He’s bent over backwards to make me happy. And you, filthy servant, have the audacity to call this woman his wife? Trash breeds trash indeed! You’re just as delusional as your lowly mistress, dreaming of becoming someone important!"

Without warning, Yvonne delivered a swift, brutal kick to the maid’s leg, sending her crashing to the ground. Then, seemingly not yet contented, Yvonne lifted her high heel and stomped down on the poor maid's hand with sickening force.

"Ahhh!" The maid’s piercing scream tore through the room, a sound so agonizing it made my stomach turn.

Meanwhile, Her group of women dragged me down to the floor, forcing me to my knees beside the trembling maid. They yanked my hair, making me meet Yvonne’s crazed gaze. She then leaned down, her face so close to mine that I could feel the heat of her breath.

"That face of yours..." she growled, her voice dripping with disgust. "It makes me sick. It’s like staring at a pathetic copy of myself."

Yvonne spat out through gritted teeth, her eyes bloodshot with madness. Before the upstairs maids or security could arrive, she pulled out a small knife from who knows where. In one swift motion, she slashed my face with it.

"Ahhh!" My scream echoed through the manor, mingling with the maid’s wails.

Blood gushed out instantly, warm and wet, staining my vision red. My face, numb at first, was now overwhelmed by unbearable pain.

I could feel the warm liquid trickling down my cheek, but all I saw was Yvonne's crazed smile.

Standing in front of me and holding the knife, she snarled, "That’s for seducing Wyatt! For trying to be me! Look at you now—let’s see how you’ll continue to use that face to manipulate my man!"