Blurb：
After three years of devotion, Sadie believed Noah Howell would finally marry her—but he abandoned her at the altar for his dream girl, Isabella Dawson. Framed by Isabella’s lies, Sadie is confined to a grim sanitarium run by the cruel David Dawson. Enduring electroshock therapy, ice baths, and psychological torture, Sadie’s spirit shatters as Noah and Isabella live lavishly. When Noah retrieves her months later, Sadie is a hollow shell, addressing him only as “Mr. Howell.” But beneath her broken exterior simmers a thirst for justice. Can Sadie reclaim her identity and expose the dark secrets of the Howell and Dawson families? Dive into this gripping tale of betrayal, survival, and revenge where love turns to vengeance.
Content：
After three years of courtship, Noah Howell finally agrees to marry me.
However, on the day of our marriage, he abandons me on the altar in pursuit of his dream girl, Isabella Dawson.
Furthermore, due to Isabella’s baseless accusation, I end up in the sanitarium.
While I suffer unimaginable torture in the sanitarium, Noah and Isabella are enjoying themselves out there, living the time of their life.
By the time he remembers to bring me home, I’m already a broken soul.
Later on, Noah begs me on his knees, his face full of tears. “Sadie, look! It’s me, Noah!”
With a sneer, I ask, “Who’s Sadie?”
Chapter 1
“Patient 457, someone’s here to collect you,” an orderly yelled from the main door.
With stiff, puppet-like movements, I stood up and then slowly followed the orderly out.
When I neared the door, the orderly pressed a stun baton to my back and threatened in a low voice, “You’d better not run your mouth after leaving. Otherwise, we’ll have our ways to get you back in here. Do you get what I mean?”
A chill ran down my spine, and I quickly answered, “I won’t! I promise!”
Running out of patience, the orderly pinched my cheeks and said, “Just smile already!”
With practiced efficiency, I flashed a textbook-perfect smile at the orderly. Then, I raised my head and saw Noah Howell.
He was leaning by the car with his head lowered, taking a drag of his cigarette.
Noticing my approach, he snuffed out the cigarette and opened the car door. In a commanding tone, he said, “Get inside.”
“Thank you, Mr. Howell!” I thanked him fearfully before getting into the car.
Noah held the door open. With furrowed brows, he asked, “What did you call me?”
Seeing the frown on his face, I said in a trembling voice, “Mr… Mr. Howell.”
A smug smile tugged at his lips. “Oh? It seems you’ve learned some manners after half a year in there.”
I wanted to say something in response, but I finally decided to keep my mouth shut.
I dared not mention his name again.
On the first day I entered the sanitarium, a few patients tried to escape. They were placed in the quiet room.
An orderly took me along to the quiet room to “observe” what happened. To put it mildly, it was intended as a warning.
I saw them stick electrode pads on the patients’ heads. Then, one of the orderlies flipped the switch, turning on the power.
In an instant, the quiet room was filled with painful wails.
I saw their faces twisting in pain, and their pants were wet as they lost control over their bladder in an instant.
Terrified, I screamed as I ran outward. “Noah!”
However, two orderlies immediately caught me and forced me to my knees. The director of the sanitarium, David Dawson, walked up to me and reprimanded, “Who do you think you are to address Mr. Howell so intimately?”
“I’m his wife. Why can’t I call him by his first name?” I retorted stubbornly.
Back then, I was still ignorant of the dangers and bravely fought back.
David flashed a smile that looked uncomfortably similar to Isabella Dawson’s. He raised a stun baton and pressed it firmly on my back.
“Mr. Howell and my sister were a match made in heaven, yet you, a homewrecker, had to force yourself into their lives. Who the hell do you think you are, huh?”
I forgot how many times I was shocked that day. I shrieked and spasmed hard on the ground before finally becoming numb to the world around me.
All the while, I kept repeating one phrase, “I’m just a homewrecker. I must address him as Mr. Howell.”
From then on, the word Noah no longer existed in my vocabulary, only Mr. Howell.
Chapter 2
By the time I returned to the Howell residence, it had begun to snow outside.
Inside, it was warm and comfortable. However, I felt as though ants were crawling all over my body, gnawing at me.
I wished I could escape right there and then.
In the past, I had been afraid of the cold.
However, back in the sanitarium, they would dunk me into ice water repeatedly or force me to kneel in the snow and repent for my “sins” whenever Isabella visited.
The chill from the ice water seeped deep into my bones, and kneeling in thin clothes on ice made me feel even worse.
Over time, I developed severe rheumatism. Now, even the slightest heat would make my joints go numb, ache, and swell.
Suppressing the urge to scratch myself, I stood at the doorway, barefoot and at a loss for what to do.
Once, my pair of bunny slippers had been placed here just for me. Now, in their place sat a pair of bright red, fluffy women’s slippers. They weren’t mine—likely belonging to Isabella.
Noticing me frozen at the door, Noah frowned. “What’s with that face again? Do you expect me to invite you in?”
His tone was sharp. I flinched and quickly replied, “I’ll come in right away.”
Barefoot, I walked inside and stood in the middle of the living room, looking around. Everything felt familiar, yet ironically not at the same time.
This was the marital home Mr. Duncan Howell, Noah’s father, had gifted us. Back then, Noah hadn’t cared much, so I had overseen the entire renovation and decoration of the place.
Now, many decorations had been changed.
On the table was the flower I hated the most—lilies. The gramophone had been replaced with a sound system. My coffee table and tea set were also gone, replaced by an espresso machine.
The entire house was laden with traces of another woman.
I withdrew my gaze, wondering when Noah would bring up divorce. At the same time, I was also thinking about where I would go afterward on my own.
My mother had died giving birth to me, and a year ago, my father had sacrificed his life during a mission to rescue hostages.
And that hostage was none other than Noah’s father.
Thinking back, I realized Noah hadn’t married me because of my persistence. Perhaps Duncan had simply asked him to do it as a way to repay his debt to my father.
To Noah, the person he married didn’t matter. In fact, it was easier for him to marry me because he knew my family’s background well.
But now that Isabella—his dream girl—had returned, he regretted that decision.
Noah sat lazily on the sofa, loosening his tie. When he saw me still standing in the center of the room, his anger flared.
“Why are you standing there like an idiot? Come over here! Take off that filthy coat and throw it away. It’s burning hot in here. Why are you still wrapped up like that?”
Without a word, I removed my coat piece by piece, carefully folding it and handing it to the maid.
There wasn’t much that my father had left behind for me. I had to be frugal in the future. Even old clothes had to be kept.
Wearing only a worn long-sleeved T-shirt, I endured the numb ache in my body and forced myself to walk to the couch. I sat down as far away from Noah as possible.
He narrowed his eyes at me for a while before suddenly asking, “Why have you gotten so thin?”
How could I not?
In that terrifying, oppressive place, who could eat properly? Even if I wanted to eat, would they let me?
In fact, they would be happier if I starved to death.
I had tried to force down cold broth with a layer of congealed fat on top, only to vomit all night.
I had tried to swallow spoiled oatmeal, only to get diarrhea until I was completely drained.
Meanwhile, the orderlies stood by laughing.
“Look at her. She’s like a starving beggar on the street. Even pigs and dogs wouldn’t eat that slop, but she still tries. Serves her right if it kills her.”
I thought food-related abuse was the worst it could get. I hadn’t expected them to drug the food.
They used potent drugs usually reserved for disobedient women in nightclubs.
That night, four orderlies dragged me into the quiet room.
They pinned down my hands and feet. With wicked grins, they ripped my clothes apart.
One of them straddled me and shouted, “This bitch dares to compete with Ms. Dawson for a man? She must be desperate for a man’s touch. Let’s all have a turn. Don’t bother holding back.”
In that moment, my despair reached its peak. I wished for death right there and then.
And what was Noah doing at that moment? He was celebrating Isabella’s birthday.
Earlier that afternoon, David showed me a video.
In the video, Isabella stood in the center, surrounded by admirers. Her eyes were closed as she made a wish.
Noah stood beside her, holding a cake lit with candles and smiling brightly.
David said, “Isabella said today’s birthday was perfect. The only unpleasant thing was when someone mentioned you. So, you’ll have to be punished today.”
I had prepared myself for torture, but I hadn’t expected this kind of punishment.
As those four orderlies had their way with me, they were merciless and rough. I screamed and sobbed in despair, “Why don’t you just kill me? Just let me die already!”
…
From then on, I no longer dared to eat food from the sanitarium. I survived only on nutrient drips.
The painful memories surged, filling me with sudden courage.
I looked at Noah. I wanted to ask if he really wanted to know why I had become so thin.
I wondered if he had the courage to hear the truth. Was this how the Howell family treated the daughter of their savior?
But just as I opened my mouth, a sweet voice chimed in, “Noah, I heard Sadie is back. I came to see her.”
All the courage I had mustered vanished instantly. I felt as though I had fallen into an icy abyss and trembled uncontrollably.
The owner of the voice was none other than Isabella.
Chapter 3
Isabella Dawson was Noah’s dream woman.
Over three years ago, Isabella and Noah had argued for some reason. Out of spite, she had gone overseas to further her studies.
From that moment on, everyone knew they’d better not mention Isabella’s name in front of Noah.
Surprisingly, that was something I had overheard during my engagement ceremony.
A woman asked, “Why did Mr. Howell suddenly get engaged to this random girl?”
Another one replied, “Oh, you didn’t know? I heard she resembles Isabella. She’s probably just a substitute.”
After they finished gossiping and left, I walked out of the restroom stall.
Back then, staring into the mirror, I had stubbornly encouraged the young woman staring back at me.
“Don’t listen to their nonsense. It was your persistence and sincerity that moved Noah. He doesn’t think of you as a substitute,” I said.
That was what I had thought until Isabella showed up on the day of our wedding.
Right after we exchanged rings, the banquet hall doors suddenly swung open.
Isabella rushed in, wearing a custom-made white gown. She looked like she was trying to steal the groom.
All eyes turned to her. With tears shimmering, she took the microphone and said, “Noah, this dress was designed by you years ago. I spent three years making it. I thought you would wait for me…”
After a brief pause, she added, “It seems like I’m too late.”
A tear finally fell, and she said, “Congratulations on your marriage. May you have a long life together. As for me, I’ll stay out of your life from now on. Let’s not meet again.”
With that, she fled like the wind.
Noah’s eyes followed her departing figure as he stood transfixed.
I held onto his arm, reminding him that it was our wedding.
He followed me to toast the guests, but his mind was elsewhere.
Then, he suddenly answered a call. On the other end, they said Isabella had slit her wrist.
Both of our expressions shifted. I clutched his arms, begging him, “Noah, don’t go.”
But he pried my fingers off one by one and walked away without sparing me another glance.
That was the first time I realized how important Isabella was to him.
Afterward, it happened again and again. Each time, Noah would rub his temples and say, “Isabella has bipolar disorder. Just cut her some slack.”
Eventually, Isabella finally revealed her true hand.
…
That day, while I was preparing for my birthday banquet, she suddenly came to visit.
She handed me a medical report and said, “Sadie Carrington, I’m pregnant. This child needs a father.”
My world came crashing down around me. I couldn’t believe Noah had fathered a child with her behind my back.
I said I didn’t believe it, and I wanted to confront Noah about this.
However, Isabella blocked me at the top of the stairs, provoking me.
“You’re just my substitute. Now that the real deal has returned, how much longer do you plan to cling to my place, you shameless mistress?” she questioned.
“No, I’m not! When Noah and I were together, we were both single and unmarried!” I replied.
…
After several heated exchanges, Isabella suddenly fell down the stairs.
Blood streamed down her legs.
Just then, Noah came home. He witnessed the scene and roared, “Sadie Carrington!”
“No, Noah. It wasn’t me. It was her!” I panicked, trying to explain.
But Noah scooped Isabella into his arms, gave me a cold glance, and rushed off to the garage.
I hadn’t touched her. She had lost her balance on her own.
Desperate, I quickly checked the house surveillance footage.
Unfortunately, the footage only showed us quarrelling. It didn’t clearly show whether I pushed her or not.
I hurried to the hospital.
Outside the ward, I overheard angry voices.
An older woman said, “That woman caused Isabella to lose her baby. I’ll see her thrown into prison!”
Isabella’s voice followed. “Aunt Peggy. Please stop. I believe Sadie didn’t mean it. Maybe she’s sick, like me. Noah, I know those symptoms well. Think carefully, have you two been fighting a lot recently? I can forgive her this time, but what if this happens again next time? She should get treatment early.
“My brother owns a famous sanitarium. When my condition was at its worst, I went there and stabilized. If you need my help, I can ask her to arrange things.”
Isabella’s aunt, Peggy Dawson, fumed, “Isabella, don’t be such a saint! I’ll send her to jail myself.”
With that said, the woman stormed out, brushing past me.
I quickly pulled on a mask.
Inside, Isabella said in a sweet voice, “Noah, my aunt’s only doing this because she adores me. If Sadie isn’t mentally ill, then she must face criminal charges.”
After a long silence, I heard Noah say, “Alright. Please contact your brother’s sanitarium.”
At that time, I still wondered why Isabella was being so kind until I was admitted there.
After every one of her so-called “visits”, I would be tortured without mercy.
Whips withy bared tips, highly concentrated chili water, and endless punishment awaited me.
I had my head shoved into a toilet, then yanked back out by the hair.
They forced me to shout again and again. “Mr. Howell belongs to Ms. Dawson. I’m just the mistress.”
During those moments, I wondered if I had realized the truth earlier and given up sooner, would I still have ended up this miserable?
…
Right then, Isabella walked right up to me. I could feel every hair on my body stand on end.
I remembered her proud, mocking sneer. I remembered how she had viciously ordered the orderlies to take “good care” of me.
I remembered her trampling me underfoot, snarling, “Tell me, who does Noah love?”
I would reply feebly, “Mr. Howell loves Ms. Dawson.”
The moment her hand touched my shoulder, I shot up from the couch as if I was touched by burning hot iron.
Bowing slightly, I said, “Ms. Dawson, please have a seat.”
Isabella smiled sweetly. “Sadie, why are you so polite with me?”
Noah gave me a probing look but said nothing. Instead, he told us to take a seat at the dining table and eat.
Tonight’s dishes were scrumptious, and all of them were once my favorites.
Sadie played the hostess, continuously serving me food.
“Sadie, I remember you loved these ribs. Try it.”
…
But she knew full well that years of starvation had ruined my stomach. I could only handle liquids.
I looked at her pleadingly, hoping she would stop.
Yet with her trademark sweet smile, she stared at me, enunciating every word. “Why aren’t you eating?”
That smile had haunted me for countless nights in my nightmares.
When I faced it in person now, my hands trembled uncontrollably.
I forced myself to swallow the food. Halfway through, my stomach felt like it was burning.
Perhaps my pained expression was too obvious. Suddenly, Noah slammed his fork down. “Enough!”
I held on as long as I could, but in the end, I stumbled to the bathroom and vomited everything out.
As I washed my face, I looked up into the mirror and saw Isabella standing right behind me.
Taking a deep breath, I suppressed my urge to run. I spoke before she could. “Ms. Dawson, please rest assured. I’ll ask Mr. Howell for a divorce.”
She smiled. “Good. Oh, and once you move out, go work at Beryllion Hall.”
Beryllion Hall was owned by the Dawson family.
It was true that I needed a job to survive, but going there was no different than jumping into another pit of hell.
Eyes red, I shook my head. “Ms. Dawson, please have mercy. Once I leave, I’ll leave this city too. You’ll never see me again.”
Isabella blew on her nails casually and said in an aloof tone, “But if you’re not under my nose, I’ll never feel at ease.”
Right then, I had the urge to ask what there was to worry about when I was already this broken.
But I didn’t dare voice my thoughts. Six months in hell had carved my fear of Isabella into my bones.
Noah walked over and asked softly, “What’s taking so long?”
Isabella chuckled. “I was just chatting with Sadie. I’ve seen her, and I’ve eaten. Since she just returned, I’d better let her rest. I’ll head back first.”
She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to ask her to stay or offer to escort her.
However, Noah only nodded. “Alright. Go on ahead.”
A flicker of dissatisfaction flashed in her eyes. She cast a threatening glance before leaving with her bag.
After she left, Noah turned to me. “What’s wrong with you?”
I shook my head. “Mr. Howell, do you have time? There’s something I want to discuss.”
He raised an eyebrow, signaling me to continue.
“I want a divorce.” I felt a great weight lift off my shoulders as I said those words.
However, his expression darkened instantly.
“You insisted on marriage back then. Now you want a divorce? Do you think the Howell family is some place you can come and go as you please?”
“No, not at all!” I rushed to explain, “Mr. Howell, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have interfered with you and Ms. Dawson. I’m the mistress. I’m just an unworthy woman.”
As I spoke, I fell to my knees, slapping my own face.
Noah seized my hand in shock. “Sadie, what are you doing?”
I stared at him, my gaze hollow and numb. “I’m atoning for my sins.”
He exploded in fury and kicked a stool aside before dragging me onto the bed. “Who the hell told you you’re a mistress?”
“N-No one. I… I came to that conclusion on my own!” I shrank into the corner, desperate to put some distance between us.
However, Noah pressed forward, looming over me.
“Whether you mean it or not, from now on, divorce is off the table!” He clenched his teeth in anger. “Or else…”
Or else what?
I stared at him, wide-eyed, waiting for him to continue.
But instead, he let out a laugh, then seized the back of my head and kissed me.
If it had been before, I might have trembled with excitement.
Now, I trembled only with fear and disgust.
“Noah?” The door creaked open. Isabella had returned. She forced a smile and said, “My car has a flat… Sorry, am I interrupting?”
Noah straightened his posture and adjusted his disheveled clothes. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. It popped just outside the residential area. I was hoping to borrow a car. I didn’t sleep well yesterday. Could you drive me?” she asked with grievance in her tone.
Noah glanced at me. Seeing no reaction from me, he reluctantly agreed.
Soon, the sound of his car engine drifted upstairs.
I shot up. I had to run.
Isabella had seen Noah kiss me. With her personality, she would definitely retaliate.
Noah wouldn’t believe me. He would send me back there again.
In a rush, I packed my documents, cards, and a few old clothes. Then, I hailed a taxi straight to the train station.
I bought the earliest departing ticket to Southgate.
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