Blurb：
After six years of perfect romance, Chloe’s world shatters when her fiancé Liam Young—the ruthless CEO who treats her like a princess—makes a suspicious comment about her petite size. The discovery of ketchup-covered fries in their takeout order, something Chloe has always disliked, confirms her worst fears: Liam is cheating. Determined to uncover the truth, Chloe storms into Liam’s commercial filming set and confronts the other woman—Mira, a disabled model with a prosthetic leg, whose presence eerily mirrors Liam’s late mother’s disability. This emotional rollercoaster explores themes of betrayal, disability representation, and the dark secrets hidden behind a seemingly perfect relationship. Will Chloe call off the wedding with Liam? What is the real connection between Liam and Mira? Dive into this gripping tale of love, lies, and shocking revelations.
Content：
After dinner, I was sitting on Liam’s lap.
His chin rested on my shoulder when he suddenly whispered,
Honey, why do you feel so tiny?
I was taken aback.
We had been together for six whole years — how could he still not be used to my size?
I forced a playful tone,
What, after six years, you’re just now realizing how small I am?
Liam caught his slip but played it off, scooping me up and pressing me against the wall to kiss me fiercely.
The kiss ended. His voice was warm and coaxing,
“How could that be, honey?”
“I love that you’re so petite I can wrap my arms completely around you.”
That night, Liam pinned me to the bed with relentless energy, almost like a punishment.
The next day, when my sister brought me a gift from abroad, she teased,
“Wow, Liam really isn’t afraid of breaking your little frame.”
But I said,
“I’m calling off the wedding with Liam.”
“Chloe, are you sure it’s not a misunderstanding?”
My sister Claire took the lunch delivery at the door and began unpacking it.
“Look, after six years, Liam still takes care of your every need.”
“Even Mom and Dad say he treats you like a princess.”
“He’s a ruthless, cold-faced CEO in public. At home, he’s your loyal dog.”
I pulled the blanket tighter around me and stayed silent.
Even this blanket was something Liam waited in line for three hours to buy me at.
Sometimes I felt I was too spoiled, but he would just smile,
“You’re the treasure god sent to pity me.”
“And isn’t that exactly what treasures are for? To be cherished.”
Just then, Liam’s special ringtone went off.
I answered, and his anxious voice came through,
“Honey, the chef put shrimp sauce in today’s pasta — don’t eat it.”
“I just found out by checking the new menu details.”
“Either let Claire have it or toss it. I’ll take you somewhere nice for dinner tonight, alright?”
Hearing his familiar, gentle tone, a sour ache welled up inside.
My throat felt stuffed with cotton, and I mumbled,
“Okay.”
After hanging up, Claire smirked and pulled the pasta toward herself.
“Your husband remembers everything — even double-checking after placing the order.”
“You’re telling me a man like Liam is cheating? I don’t buy it.”
I stayed silent, my emotions in turmoil.
Once I had a mild allergic reaction to seafood and broke out in hives.
Liam stayed up all night worried, accompanying me through an IV drip.
His eyes were red as he said,
“Honey, from now on I’ll always check your food.”
And he had kept that promise.
But the next moment, we opened the last takeout container and saw fries generously sprinkled with ketchup.
My hands froze.
“Huh? ‘fries with extra ketchup: my wife loves it.'”
“Chloe, since when do you like ketchup on your fries?”
Claire held the receipt, studying my expression.
Her face turned serious,
“So… he really has another woman out there?”
Someone as meticulous as Liam would never have served me fries with ketchup.
Along with what Liam had said the night before, I sat frozen on the couch, a numb ache spreading through my body.
Finally, I forced a bitter smile,
“Yeah. Liam is definitely cheating.”
My fiancé had not only held another woman but had also thoughtfully ordered food for her.
All of which used to be exclusive to me.
So, she must be tall and loves ketchup, right?
I decisively grabbed my car keys,
“Claire, I’m going to Liam’s office.”
I had to see what kind of woman could steal away the man who had loved me for six years.
I had imagined countless possibilities.
Maybe it was an ambitious secretary, an innocent intern, or some social climber from the industry trying to latch onto the Young family.
But it was none of those.
Liam had recently been on set filming a commercial for the company.
When I stormed into the studio, I only needed one look at her.
To know that Liam and I were truly over.
Mira, the lead model for the commercial shoot.
To be precise, a model with a disability.
She had a prosthetic on her left lower leg.
Liam’s late mother had also been disabled.
As an illegitimate child of the Young family, having a disabled mother made his life among the many heirs exceptionally difficult.
The insult he heard most growing up was,
“Your mother’s a cripple, and so are you!”
“How can someone incomplete dare to compete with us?”
His mother never won much favor, and her children suffered because of it.
In the end, she died unhappy, jumping from the 30th floor.
Liam had once confessed,
“If she was so fragile, she shouldn’t have had me on impulse.”
“Sometimes I feel like disabled people shouldn’t have children.”
“They’re destined to carry more than others, and so are their kids.”
But now, he had fallen for another disabled woman.
A man who had truly known that pain couldn’t help but fall in love.
The emotional turmoil behind his falling for it felt like needles pricking at my heart.
When I walked over, Liam looked surprised,
“Chloe, what are you doing here?”
My eyes met Mira’s, who was studying me,
“Just dropping by for a visit.”
Unexpectedly, Mira spoke up confidently,
“This must be Mr Young’s fiancée, Ms Woods, right?”
“I’ve heard so much about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Mira, the lead model for this commercial.”
It struck me then — aside from that prosthetic leg,
Mira was radiant, confident, and full of light.
So, was that it, Liam?
Liam avoided my gaze, seeming anxious.
Mira, in 4-inch heels, looked down at me.
Her tone dripping with false envy,
“I really admire your height, Ms Woods. You seem so delicate and petite.”
“Not like me — all legs.”
I didn’t miss the hint of challenge in her eyes as I noted how she and Liam stood almost shoulder to shoulder, a perfect match for their height.
I smiled slightly, walking straight to Liam’s chair and crossing my arms.
“Keep shooting. I’m just here to watch.”
But during the shoot, something unexpected happened.
In the final scene, the male model who was supposed to embrace Mira suddenly lost control, forcing a kiss on her.
He groped her roughly, yelling,
“Stop acting all aloof! I like you so much — why won’t you be with me?”
“Ah!” Within seconds, Mira’s clothes were torn.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Liam rush forward.
He yanked the man off and landed a hard punch, drawing blood immediately.
Everyone hurried to pull Mira away, covering her trembling form with a jacket.
Liam’s eyes were blazing, ignoring the man’s pleas of “Stop! I’m sorry! I was wrong!”
“Thud! Thud! Thud!”
The sound of fists hitting flesh echoed through the set.
Liam’s entire aura was savage, like an enraged lion.
The last time I’d seen him like this was years ago, when I’d been hit protecting him from other Young family members throwing stones.
His knuckles were raw, the male model’s breathing grew weak.
But Liam’s strikes grew more and more brutal.
I couldn’t take it anymore and rushed forward to pull him back,
“Liam, that’s enough!”
“Get off! He deserves to die!”
Liam shoved me away.
By the time he realized, I had already fallen hard onto the ground.
Both my palms were scraped and bleeding.
“Chloe!” Liam finally released the male model and hurried to help me up.
I took a deep breath, my nose stinging with unshed tears.
The grit and gravel in my palms seemed to have lodged in my heart.
He tried to guide me aside but stopped when he heard Mira’s soft sobs.
Liam clenched his fists, seeming to steel himself.
“Chloe, I need to accompany the model to the hospital for a check-up. The police will need a report later.”
His eyes kept darting toward Mira.
As if he might rush over any second.
Suddenly, the sting in my palms spread to my heart.
I couldn’t help asking,
“Liam, I’m hurt too.”
“You have plenty of staff here. Do you really need to handle this personally?”
“You even resorted to violence! Do you realize you represent the entire Young family?”
No one knew better than me how hard Liam had fought to get where he was.
All these years, he had been cautious with every move.
But look at him now:
A bloody scratch on his face, sweat-dampened hair at his temples, the redness still in his eyes.
This was not the calm, collected Mr Young.
My fiancé, the man I’d loved for six years, was now so concerned about another woman.
But Liam just sighed heavily, sounding exhausted,
“Chloe, you have to understand — this is assault.”
“Mira was assaulted while working. As her employer, I can’t leave.”
“This isn’t trivial.”
His gaze held a warning.
At that point, what more was there to say?
I slumped in defeat, watching him hurry toward that woman, whispering comforts and concerns.
When Claire came to pick me up, she found me utterly devastated.
Just as we drove away from the set, my phone blew up with notifications.
#Young CEO assaults harasser on set# was trending.
Clicking in, there were high-def photos of Liam protecting Mira, throwing punches, and carefully wrapping her in his jacket.
The comments were exploding:
[Mr Young is so manly! So responsible!]
[A boss who protects his employees personally — so secure!]
[Am I the only one who thinks Mr Young and the model look great together?]
[Both tall and with great figures — they could be on a magazine cover in different clothes.]
[Business tycoon and beautiful, strong, tragic disabled model — I’m already shipping them!]
[Get married, right now!]
My fingers icy, I scrolled through those painful “perfect match” comments when an inconspicuous one caught my eye:
[Check out @MiraMusings, you’re in for a surprise!]
On a whim, I clicked.
It was a newly registered account, not many posts.
The latest was from yesterday:
[He praised my bravery today.]
Attached was a picture of a distinctly veined hand offering a warm drink.
The watch on that wrist was clearly the one I’d bid $80,000 for at an auction last year for Liam’s birthday.
It even had his and my names engraved.
I scrolled further:
[Rehab is painful, but remembering him saying ‘imperfection is beautiful’ gives me strength.]
The picture showed a man applying maintenance oil to her prosthetic, intimate.
Beside them was a hand cream I’d specially bought for him — wood-scented.
My heart felt gripped by an icy hand, suffocating.
Late that night, the entryway sounded.
Liam looked startled when he saw me,
“Chloe? Why are the lights off?”
I held up my phone, its glow illuminating my pale face.
“Liam, explain this.”
“Whose story is ‘MiraMusings’ documenting?”
Liam’s face tightened, his voice tense,
“Chloe, it’s not what you think.”
I snatched my hand back, forcing a bitter smile,
“Not what?”
I pointed at the photos,
“The watch, the cufflinks, the hand cream — all from me! You used my things to make another woman happy?”
Tears threatened, but I held them back.
He knelt to my eye level, his gaze soft and pleading,
“Mira was shaken. She’s disabled, been through a lot. I was just being a supportive employer, encouraging her not to feel inferior.”
He tried to touch me, but I recoiled.
“Supportive enough to hand her drinks, help with maintenance oil, praise her bravery?”
My voice trembled,
“That comment about me being small — were you comparing me to her? It’s disgusting!”
“Chloe!” Liam’s voice rose sharply, pained, “I never thought that! You’re one of a kind!”
He took a deep breath, humble,
“Honey, I admit I feel extra sympathy — she reminds me of my mom… But I swear, I never crossed the line! You know my heart only belongs to you, don’t you?”
I bit my lip, tears falling silently.
He hated when I cried, his expression pained.
Finally, he stood and brought over a heavy wooden box,
“I meant to give this to you at our wedding.”
He knelt, opening it.
Inside weren’t jewels but many smooth, warm little carvings: a rabbit, a deer, a pavilion…
Fifty-two in total, each from his business trips and our travels, capturing every casual preference I’d mentioned.
“You said after Grandpa’s gone, no one coaxes you with those little carvings anymore.”
He looked up, his eyes reflecting my tears, solemn,
“Chloe, Grandpa’s gone, but I’ll stay. I’ll love you the way that make you the happiest girl in this world.”
His sincerity shook my crumbling defenses.
Had I been wrong? Was Mira just a reflection of his mother?
Finally, I nodded,
“Liam, I believe you, but you have to promise me. No more contact with Mira outside work.”
Liam held me tightly,
“Yes, I promise, Honey. I swear.”
He kissed away my tears tenderly.
That night, I texted Claire:
[I’ve decided to trust Liam one more time.]
Later, Liam kept his word, publicly clarifying:
[Mira and I are not in the speculated relationship. My fiancée and I will marry in three days. We appreciate your blessings~]
With a photo of our intertwined fingers.
The comments below were full of blessings, the shipping posts gone.
He even handed off all future commercial work to subordinates.
Just like that, Mira vanished from our lives.
I thought everything was back on track.
Until the night before the wedding, when I used the study computer.
I stumbled upon a folder named “Mira” deep in the files.
My lips trembled. It was encrypted. I tried our birthdays — both wrong.
But Liam preferred simple passwords.
Then I remembered the first post on Mira’s account:
[June 28, the day we met.]
“Ding” — the password worked.
My heart plummeted.
Inside was a video. Liam, my love of six years, was pressing into Mira, intimately.
Their voices crawled into my ears like snakes:
[Liam, why film this?]
[Mira, don’t you like it? I’ll treasure this. Even Chloe doesn’t have the privilege.]
[Only you, Mira. Only you. I love you.]
I clamped a hand over my mouth, tears surging, but I forced them back.
Chloe, this is the last time you cry for Liam.
That evening, Liam returned from a dinner, tipsy, embracing me,
“Chloe, we’re getting married tomorrow. I’m so happy.”
“I love you so much, Chloe.”
Then at night, I decisively sent a text:
[Claire, add a little surprise to tomorrow’s ceremony.]
The next day, the wedding was dreamy and beautiful, the happiness making my eyes burn.
Relatives exchanged greetings, all smiles.
Liam held me happily,
“Chloe, I’ve finally, finally married you. It’s the best day of my life.”
I smiled coldly inside — too bad it was all an illusion.
The screen with our photos suddenly went black.
Liam frowned, “What’s wrong with the screen? I’ll check.”
But then, footage of Liam and Mira intertwined filled it.
Mira’s ecstatic moans echoed through the venue,
Including Liam’s passionate response:
[Mira, babe… I love you so much. Only you…]
Download the NovelGo app, Search 【 384831 】reads the whole book.
