His Personal Fucktoy? This Doll Just Snatched His Strings... And His World Is Unraveling novel Chapter 88

I was born to my parents when they were thirty five, and I am their only child. Both of my parents are also only children. The simplicity of our family structure made me prioritize one thing above all when choosing a spouse: the person had to be someone with a simple family background, just like me. An only child, no siblings to care for, and no one who might covet the assets my parents had given me before marriage. I never expected this. I never expected that the person I carefully selected would actually have ulterior motives for approaching me.

After Ethan fell to the floor, the shame on his face quickly disappeared, replaced by anger and frustration. “What do you mean by that? You’re my wife now! What’s mine is yours! So what if we have no place to stay? Moving into your apartment–what’s the big deal? You’re not even a real young lady, so why are you being so pretentious?”

In that moment. I suddenly felt that the Ethan standing in front of me was a complete stranger. When I first met him, I thought this man was made for me, that he was everything I had imagined for my future husband. The man who, just yesterday, had sworn to love me forever and treat me like a princess. Today, he was dragging me down, calling me pretentious, telling me to face reality.

I took a deep breath, bidding farewell to the future I had envisioned. “Fine. I don’t want to argue with you.” I wiped the last tear from my eyes and said the words I had already prepared. “Pack your things, let’s get a divorce.”

“Divorce?!” Ethan jumped up, his face contorted with rage, making his previously handsome features look twisted. “Marina Miller, do you think marriage is some kind of joke to you? We just registered our marriage yesterday! What are you going to tell our parents?”

I said. “There’s nothing to explain. I’ll handle my parents. As for yours, if you can’t bring yourself to say it, I’ll do it for you.” Without giving him a chance to argue, I pulled up his mother’s number from my contacts and called her.

The woman who had sent me well–wishes just yesterday morning, now, over the phone, spoke to me with sarcasm. “Little girl, I’m not lucky enough to have a daughter–in–law like you. Your husband paid me ten thousand USD to pretend to be your mother. He said yesterday that you two got your marriage certificate and no longer needed me. If you really want to show filial piety, you should have him pay off the remaining balance he owes me. Otherwise, I might have to go to his company and make a scene.”

When the call ended, I felt as though there was a heavy stone lodged in my chest. I couldn’t spit it out, nor could I swallow it.

I had considered the possibility that there might be conflicts in our married life, but I never imagined anything so absurd would happen to me. Three months ago. Ethan had arranged for both our families to meet. His mother was gentle and graceful, always caring for me and treating me like her own daughter. His father was composed and reserved, constantly advising Ethan to be responsible. At that time, I thought how lucky I was, that even though Ethan and I were a couple who had fallen in love on our own, everything–from meeting the parents to the engagement–had gone so smoothly. I never imagined that all of it had been part of a carefully constructed lie.