The Unseen Wife's Six-Year Sacrifice

The Unseen Wife's Six-Year Sacrifice

Sumner Upsdell

5.0
Comment(s)
35.4K
View
17
Chapters

For six years, I was the perfect wife to a tech CEO and stepmother to his son, a role I took on to repay a debt. I poured my soul into a family that saw me as nothing more than a placeholder for his dead wife. On our anniversary, my six-year-old stepson pointed at our family portrait and screamed that he wanted me gone, replaced by my husband's assistant. Later, in a fit of rage, he killed my dog, my only link to my old life. My husband's only reaction was to call the dying animal a "menace." After six years of silent sacrifice, that single act of cruelty was the final straw. As I signed the divorce papers, my husband scoffed in disbelief. "You're throwing this all away for a dog?" I looked him dead in the eye. "That dog was more family to me than you ever were."

The Unseen Wife's Six-Year Sacrifice Chapter 1

For six years, I was the perfect wife to a tech CEO and stepmother to his son, a role I took on to repay a debt. I poured my soul into a family that saw me as nothing more than a placeholder for his dead wife.

On our anniversary, my six-year-old stepson pointed at our family portrait and screamed that he wanted me gone, replaced by my husband's assistant.

Later, in a fit of rage, he killed my dog, my only link to my old life. My husband's only reaction was to call the dying animal a "menace."

After six years of silent sacrifice, that single act of cruelty was the final straw.

As I signed the divorce papers, my husband scoffed in disbelief.

"You're throwing this all away for a dog?"

I looked him dead in the eye. "That dog was more family to me than you ever were."

Chapter 1

Almeda Hughes POV:

On our sixth anniversary, the perfect portrait of our family finally shattered, and it started with a single photograph I wasn't meant to be in.

For six years, I had played the part of Almeda Porter, wife to the tech CEO Hector Porter, and stepmother to his son, Jacob. Six years of pouring my soul into a home that never felt like mine, for a family that never truly saw me. Today was supposed to be a milestone. The family portrait, commissioned months ago, had finally arrived. It was perfect-a heavy, ornate frame enclosing a moment of manufactured happiness.

I carried it into the living room, my heart thumping with a nervous hope I should have known better than to entertain. Hector was on the sofa, scrolling through his tablet, and Jacob was building a tower of blocks on the Persian rug. The silence in the cavernous room was a familiar, heavy blanket.

"It's here," I said, my voice sounding too bright, too eager. I propped the large portrait against an empty chair, turning it for them to see.

In the photo, I stood slightly behind Hector' s shoulder, my hand resting gently on the back of his chair. Jacob was seated on his father' s lap, a rare, fleeting smile captured on his face. We looked like a family. We looked real.

Jacob looked up from his blocks, his eyes, so much like his father's, landing on the portrait. His small face, usually a mask of indifference towards me, twisted into a scowl.

"I don't like it," he stated, his voice sharp and clear.

The fragile hope in my chest cracked. I forced a smile. "Why not, sweetie? We all look so nice."

He stood up, walked over to the portrait, and jabbed a small finger at my face. "I don't want her in it."

The words hit me with the force of a physical blow. I felt the air leave my lungs. Six years of patient breakfasts he refused to eat, of bedtime stories he ignored, of gentle questions met with stony silence-it all coalesced into this one, brutal rejection.

"Jacob," I started, my voice trembling slightly. "I'm part of the family."

"No, you're not!" he yelled, his voice rising. "You're not my mom! I want Helene in the picture! Helene is my mom!"

Helene Rojas. My husband's executive assistant. The woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to his deceased wife, Geneva. The woman Jacob adored because she looked like the mother he barely remembered. The woman who was a constant, smiling phantom in our marriage.

I looked at Hector, my eyes pleading for him to intervene, to say something, anything. He finally set down his tablet, his gaze unreadable. He saw the portrait, saw his son's tantrum, saw the pain etched on my face.

"Jacob, that's enough," he said, his tone lacking any real heat. It was the voice he used for minor business inconveniences. "Almeda is your mother now. Be good."

"She's not!" Jacob shrieked, his face turning red. "I hate her!"

My carefully constructed composure was crumbling. The fatigue of six years washed over me in a tidal wave. Six years of trying, of hoping, of pretending this contractual obligation could somehow blossom into a real family.

I was so, so tired.

"I'm done," I whispered, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. "I can't do this anymore."

I turned and walked out of the living room, the sound of Jacob' s continued shouts fading behind me. I went to the sunroom, my sanctuary, and pulled out my phone. My hands were shaking as I dialed Gladys.

Gladys Morgan, Geneva' s mother and my former legal guardian. The woman who, with the best of intentions, had arranged this marriage.

"Almeda? Is everything alright?" her voice was crisp and pragmatic, as always.

Tears I hadn't realized were forming began to stream down my face. "Gladys," I choked out, "I'm leaving him. I'm leaving Hector."

There was a long pause on the other end. When she spoke again, her voice was heavy with a guilt I knew she'd carried for six years. "I know. I'm sorry, my dear. I thought... I thought it would be a stable home for Jacob. That he would eventually accept you."

"I did it for you, Gladys," I said, my voice gaining a sliver of strength. "I married him to repay you for taking me in. To give Jacob the home you wanted for him after Geneva... after she died. But I can't do it anymore."

The six-year contract was up. My obligation was fulfilled.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my stomach. I gasped, doubling over. Jacob stood in the doorway, his small face contorted with rage. He had thrown the heavy, framed portrait at me. The corner of it had dug into my abdomen.

"You're a bad woman!" he screamed, his words laced with a venom that was terrifying in a six-year-old. "You made Daddy mad! Helene would never make Daddy mad!"

I straightened up, ignoring the throbbing pain. My heart felt hollow. "I'm leaving, Jacob. You'll have Helene all to yourself soon."

"Good!" he spat.

I turned my back on him, my decision solidifying from a weary whisper into an unshakeable resolve. I was walking towards the stairs when Hector appeared at the end of the hall, his face a thunderous mask.

"What did you say to him?" he demanded, striding towards me. He didn't ask if I was okay. He didn't even glance at the heavy frame lying on the floor. His only concern was his son.

"She said she's leaving!" Jacob wailed, running to his father. "She's a liar!"

Hector' s cold eyes locked onto mine. "You're upsetting him, Almeda. You're always so dramatic. Why can't you be more like Helene? She knows how to handle him."

He pushed past me, his shoulder bumping mine hard. He scooped Jacob into his arms, comforting him with soft murmurs. I stood there, invisible, as he carried his son away.

I let out a shaky breath and started up the stairs to pack. I took one last look at the portrait on the floor. My face in the photo smiled back at me, a stranger from a life I was now leaving behind.

Just as I reached the landing, the doorbell chimed. A moment later, Helene's voice, sweet as poison, drifted up from the foyer.

"Hector? Jacob? I brought your favorite coconut cream cake for the anniversary celebration!"

I looked down. She stood there, a vision in a white dress, holding a pristine cake box. She looked up and our eyes met. A triumphant smirk played on her lips. She had won.

She walked into the living room, and I closed my bedroom door, the soft click echoing the final, merciful end to my marriage.

Continue Reading

Other books by Sumner Upsdell

More
From Savior to Obsessed Stalker

From Savior to Obsessed Stalker

Romance

5.0

The passcode to Conrad Ellison' s private villa was my birthday, a gesture I once thought was the most romantic in the world. Now, it felt like a key to a gilded cage. I walked through his silent mansion, a cold knot of unease growing in my stomach. Then I heard it-a low moan from his bedroom. The door was ajar, revealing Conrad on his knees, clutching a lavender silk scarf. He was touching himself, breathing one name: "Kassidy." My stepsister. My blood ran cold. The man I loved, the man I thought was pure, desired her, not me. As I stumbled back, his phone buzzed. It was Kassidy. "Conrad? You sound... out of breath." He snapped, "What do you want?" She asked if the rumors of our marriage were true. His reply hit me like a physical blow: "Never. She' s a delusional, pathetic woman. I wish she would just disappear." He admitted he only tolerated me to get closer to her, to win her father' s approval. My three years of foolish love felt like a giant, humiliating joke. I remembered how my father brought Kassidy and her mother home after my mother' s funeral, how they made me a villain, and how Conrad, my supposed savior, had stepped in to protect me from bullies. I had been so blind, so stupidly arrogant, believing I was special to him. He wasn't a saint; he was just obsessed with the wrong woman. I ran until my lungs burned, collapsing on the lawn. A hard, sharp resolve formed in the wreckage of my heart. I called Helene, my voice torn with sobs. "I'm done. I don't want him anymore." I was leaving this city, my father, Kassidy, all of it. I was starting over. I was never coming back.

I Dumped My Daughter's Father

I Dumped My Daughter's Father

Romance

5.0

The sweet scent of vanilla filled our kitchen, a fragile peace before the storm of Lily' s fifth birthday. Then, my husband Mark's phone buzzed with the name "Scarlett," shattering any illusion of our perfect life. Later, I found receipts for a diamond necklace and private school tuition-all for Scarlett' s daughter, not our own. My husband stood by, watching as his mistress' s daughter, Daisy, taunted Lily, proudly displaying gifts from her "Daddy." That night, a news alert flashed across my phone: "Tech Mogul Mark Davis Rekindles Romance with Childhood Sweetheart Scarlett Vance? Seen on a Cozy Family Outing with Vance and Her Look-alike Daughter, Daisy." He walked in at 2 a.m., oblivious to the wreckage he' d left in his wake. "How was your party, Mark?" I asked, holding up the damning picture. He denied nothing, offering flimsy excuses about "responsibility" and "old times' sake." But when I found out he was paying for Daisy' s schooling, my control snapped. "What do you want, Ava? A divorce?" he challenged. "Yes," I said, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. He panicked, pleading for a second chance, weaving a tale of blackmail. "Prove it," I told him, demanding a postnup: if he strayed again, I' d take everything. He signed, thinking he' d bought my silence. But at his company picnic, Scarlett and Daisy appeared, Mark' s secret family in plain sight. He spoke French to Daisy, a warmth he never showed Lily, making our daughter an outsider. "It is incredibly rude to speak in a language you assume others don\'t understand, Scarlett. Especially when you are telling your daughter to boast about things a married man supposedly did with you," I said in flawless French, exposing their cruel charade. His anger, however, was for me and our crying daughter. "You\'re making a scene!" he hissed. "And Lily, for God\'s sake, stop crying. It\'s embarrassing." That was the end. I walked away, Lily' s hand in mine, knowing he had made his choice.

His Stolen Wedding, Her Perfect Lie

His Stolen Wedding, Her Perfect Lie

Romance

5.0

My wedding day was supposed to be perfect, just like Chloe and I planned it. White roses, fairy lights, and then I saw it: a giant photo of Chloe and her "best friend" Mark at the entrance, with "Congratulations Chloe & Mark" written beneath. I thought it was a terrible prank, but a hulking man blocked my way, laughing when I said I was the groom. "The groom' s name is Mark. Now get lost before you make a scene," he grunted. My heart pounded as I pushed past him, only to see Chloe on stage in her wedding dress, Mark' s arm possessively around her. "Thank you all for coming to celebrate the happiest day of our lives," Mark announced, as my mind went blank. I shouted Chloe' s name, and for a second, I saw panic in her eyes before it was replaced by cold annoyance. Mark smirked, pointing out a "wedding crasher" as his brother, Dale, stomped towards me, snarling about me getting lost. "This is a misunderstanding! I' m Alex! I' m engaged to Chloe! We were supposed to get married today!" I cried, looking desperately at Chloe, but she wouldn' t meet my gaze. Mark called me a "stalker," and Dale punched me in the stomach, then dragged me out, breaking my arm. I lay on the cold concrete steps, the pain nothing compared to the crushing weight in my chest. Just hours earlier, Chloe had woken me, worried she was pregnant, sending me on a wild goose chase for a test across town. She had kissed me, telling me she loved me. It was all a lie. She had stolen our wedding, our friends, and our life. My phone buzzed, a picture of Chloe and Mark, blissful in a hotel room, a smug message from him: "Thanks for setting everything up, buddy. She' s all mine now." Rage burned through me. I called, needing her to confirm the betrayal. "Things change. People change. I chose Mark. He can give me the life I deserve," she said dismissively. I realized then: I was just a placeholder. The entire five years was a lie. The devastating truth wasn' t just about a wedding lost, but a life stolen. I moved out, blocking her everywhere. It was over. But it wasn' t just about moving on. It was about reclaiming everything she tried to erase.

You'll also like

The Discarded Heiress: Marrying My Lethal Husband

The Discarded Heiress: Marrying My Lethal Husband

Xiao Wang
5.0

The rain in Detroit was slick with grime when my family finally came to fetch me. They didn't want a reunion; they wanted a sacrificial lamb to marry into the Kaufman empire to save their failing business. I thought I was just being sold off, but the limo ride ended under a dark overpass where six hired thugs were waiting with chains. My own sister had ordered them to "break my spirit" so I’d be a shaking, pathetic mess by the time I reached the altar. They called me "Detroit trash" and sprayed air freshener when I sat on their leather seats. My stepmother wanted a video of me begging for my life, and my father was ready to trade me like a used car to a man everyone called a "vegetable." They expected a submissive country girl, unaware that I was a high-level "cleaner" who could snap a radius bone before they could even scream. When I finally reached the Kaufman estate, I found my fiancé, Barron, slumped in a wheelchair, drooling and silent. But as soon as the doors closed, the "invalid" grabbed my wrist with a grip of iron and whispered a command that changed everything. I didn't understand why my own blood was so desperate to see me destroyed. What had I ever done to deserve a hit squad and a forced marriage to a man they thought was a corpse? But Barron isn't a vegetable, and I'm not a victim. We just touched down at the Moon family gala in a matte-black helicopter, and as the doors slide open, the "broken" bride is about to show them exactly what happens when you throw away the wrong daughter. "If we're going to crash a party," Barron whispered, his eyes burning with lethal clarity, "we should make an entrance."

The Convict Heiress: Marrying The Billionaire

The Convict Heiress: Marrying The Billionaire

Rollins Laman
4.8

The heavy thud of the release stamp was the only goodbye I got from the warden after five years in federal prison. I stepped out into the blinding sun, expecting the same flash of paparazzi bulbs that had seen me dragged away in handcuffs, but there was only a single black limousine idling on the shoulder of the road. Inside sat my mother and sister, clutching champagne and looking at my frayed coat with pure disgust. They didn't offer a welcome home; instead, they tossed a thick legal document onto the table and told me I was dead to the city. "Gavin and I are getting engaged," my sister Mia sneered, flicking a credit card at me like I was a stray dog. "He doesn't need a convict ex-fiancée hanging around." Even after I saved their lives from an armed kidnapping attempt by ramming the attackers off the road, they rewarded me by leaving me stranded in the dirt. When I finally ran into Gavin, the man who had framed me, he pinned me against a wall and threatened to send me back to a cell if I ever dared to show my face at their wedding. They had stolen my biotech research, ruined my name, and let me rot for half a decade while they lived off my brilliance. They thought they had broken me, leaving me with nothing but an expired chapstick and a few old photos in a plastic bag. What they didn't know was that I had spent those five years becoming "Dr. X," a shadow consultant with five hundred million dollars in crypto and a secret that would bring the city to its knees. I wasn't just a victim anymore; I was a weapon, and I was pregnant with the heir they thought they had erased. I walked into the Melton estate and made an offer to the most powerful man in New York. "I'll save your grandfather's life," I told Horatio Melton, staring him down. "But the price is your last name. I'm taking back what's mine, and I'm starting with the man who thinks he's marrying my sister."

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book
The Unseen Wife's Six-Year Sacrifice The Unseen Wife's Six-Year Sacrifice Sumner Upsdell Billionaires
“For six years, I was the perfect wife to a tech CEO and stepmother to his son, a role I took on to repay a debt. I poured my soul into a family that saw me as nothing more than a placeholder for his dead wife. On our anniversary, my six-year-old stepson pointed at our family portrait and screamed that he wanted me gone, replaced by my husband's assistant. Later, in a fit of rage, he killed my dog, my only link to my old life. My husband's only reaction was to call the dying animal a "menace." After six years of silent sacrifice, that single act of cruelty was the final straw. As I signed the divorce papers, my husband scoffed in disbelief. "You're throwing this all away for a dog?" I looked him dead in the eye. "That dog was more family to me than you ever were."”
1

Chapter 1

30/09/2025

2

Chapter 2

30/09/2025

3

Chapter 3

30/09/2025

4

Chapter 4

30/09/2025

5

Chapter 5

30/09/2025

6

Chapter 6

30/09/2025

7

Chapter 7

30/09/2025

8

Chapter 8

30/09/2025

9

Chapter 9

30/09/2025

10

Chapter 10

30/09/2025

11

Chapter 11

30/09/2025

12

Chapter 12

30/09/2025

13

Chapter 13

30/09/2025

14

Chapter 14

30/09/2025

15

Chapter 15

30/09/2025

16

Chapter 16

30/09/2025

17

Chapter 17

30/09/2025