Marrying into Good Fortune

She had always hoped to marry the man she had been with for thirteen years. She never expected him to marry someone else without a word, making her a laughingstock. On his wedding night, she got blackout drunk and went to pound on the door of his bridal suite. But though she went to the right door, she found the wrong man: someone she couldn't afford to offend. He was her boyfriend's brother-in-law, and the older brother of her romantic rival. A man with the power to control everything, a tycoon who, before turning thirty, already lounged with his legs crossed atop a fortune worth hundreds of billions, a devilishly handsome man whose heart was every bit as calculating as his face was beautiful! An unexpected pregnancy brought everything to light, and she was thrust into the spotlight. “The child is mine.” In front of everyone, he stepped forward and took responsibility. They married because of the baby. He had no choice but to marry her, and she had no choice but to marry him. He had been untouchable and out of reach, but one night of mistaken circumstances made her his wife in name and in fact. Everyone said that marrying him was a blessing earned over several lifetimes, and every woman was green with envy. But she felt marrying him was a curse earned over several lifetimes. Apart from making her ex-boyfriend regret everything and suffer heartbreak, there wasn't a single benefit. Why was he so bad? A womanizer? No! He wasn't. From the office to their home, every one of his subordinates was a man. Still, every so often, his personal male secretary or personal male lawyer would lean in close to whisper in his ear or hold his hand, putting on a show of boundless bromance. A bad man? He was truly innocent! On a freezing winter night, he took off his scarf and gently wrapped it around her neck, then said with deep affection, “Darling, don’t catch a cold!” Touched, she asked him, “You’ll catch a cold without your scarf!” He turned and got into the car. “It’s fine. I’ve got the heater. You can walk back slowly!” Once, she could no longer hold back. Grabbing him by the collar, she demanded, “Ou Muye, do you even love me or not?” He laughed. “How would I know if my mom loves you? Call her in France and ask her yourself sometime!”