Love's Betrayal: A Forged Marriage

"I want a divorce." The words, quiet but firm, cut through the tense air. For five years, I, Harlow Love, had been Kaden Barnes's wife in name only, a transaction to salvage his family's image after my father died saving his life. I endured his cruelty, his humiliation, and watched him openly love another woman.

When I finally gathered the courage to ask for freedom, his mother, the matriarch, coldly informed me I'd have to endure the family's "disciplinary measures"-thirty lashes-to prove I wasn't being cast out. But then, a shocking truth shattered my world: "A forgery," Kaden casually revealed. "That marriage isn't even legal." My five years of suffering, the beatings, the public shame, all for a lie.

The relief was short-lived. Brittaney, Kaden's mistress, framed me for hurting her dog, then for trying to kill her during a horseback ride. Kaden, blinded by his devotion to her, believed every lie. He brutally punished me, breaking my leg and dislocating my arm, leaving me for dead.

I was just a prop, a placeholder, less than a spoiled dog in his eyes. My pain, my dignity, meant nothing. Why did he believe her every word, every tear, over my bleeding body?

But in the depths of despair, a lifeline appeared. His mother, horrified by his cruelty, secretly sent me to London, granting me the freedom I had so desperately craved. I was finally free, and I vowed never to see Kaden Barnes again.

Chapter 1

"I want a divorce."

The words left Harlow Love's mouth, quiet but firm, cutting through the tense air of the grand Barnes family hall.

She knelt on the cold marble floor, her back screaming in pain from the injuries hidden beneath her simple dress. Her head was bowed, but her spirit was not broken.

Mrs. Barnes, the matriarch of the political dynasty, sat in a heavy, carved wooden chair, her face a mask of cold indifference. She looked down at Harlow, her voice devoid of warmth. "And why would you want that?"

"You know why," Harlow said, her voice shaking slightly but holding its course. "This marriage was never real. It was a transaction. A way for your family to look good after my father died saving Kaden's life."

She didn't need to elaborate. The story was public knowledge. Her father, the family's longtime chauffeur, had taken a bullet for Kaden Barnes, the sole heir. To manage the PR fallout and project an image of gratitude, Mrs. Barnes had forced her son into a contractual marriage with the grieving daughter.

"For five years," Harlow continued, her voice heavy with the weight of those years, "I have been his wife in name only. I have been his punching bag, his outlet for every frustration. I have endured his cruelty and his humiliation."

Her voice dropped to a near whisper. "And I have watched him love another woman."

The name hung in the air, unsaid but known to everyone. Brittaney Cortez. Kaden's childhood sweetheart, his constant companion, the woman who treated Harlow's home as her own.

"That's not a sufficient reason," Mrs. Barnes said, her tone dismissive. "You are the wife of Kaden Barnes. That should be enough."

Harlow almost laughed, a bitter, broken sound. "The wife? Everyone in this city knows the truth. Everyone whispers about it."

In the corner of the hall, two distant cousins were already whispering, their voices low but carrying.

"She's talking about Brittaney, isn't she?"

"Of course. Kaden doesn't even hide it. He takes Brittaney everywhere. He bought her a mansion right next to his private club."

Mrs. Barnes's jaw tightened. "Idle gossip."

"It's not gossip when he leaves my bed to answer her calls. It's not gossip when he flaunts her at parties while I stand in the corner like a servant," Harlow shot back, lifting her head to meet the older woman's gaze.

"Men of power have their indulgences," Mrs. Barnes said coolly. "It is a wife's duty to be tolerant. You have a title and wealth beyond your wildest dreams. Do not be greedy, Harlow."

Harlow felt the sharp, throbbing pain in her back flare up. It was a fresh reminder of last night's punishment, a beating with a leather belt because she had accidentally spilled wine on a suit Brittaney had picked out for Kaden. Her will, however, was stronger than the pain.

"I don't want the title. I don't want the money," she said, tears finally welling in her eyes, blurring the cold face of her mother-in-law. "I just want to be free. I am begging you. Let me go."

A long silence stretched between them. Mrs. Barnes studied her, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. Perhaps it was the finality in Harlow's tone, the sheer exhaustion that radiated from her.

"Very well," the matriarch finally conceded, the words dropping like stones.

Harlow's heart leaped with a desperate hope.

"But you know the rules of this family," Mrs. Barnes continued, her voice turning to ice. "Leaving is not a simple matter. Kaden is the heir to the Barnes empire. A divorce is an embarrassment. To earn your freedom, you must endure the family's disciplinary measures. To prove you are leaving of your own accord and not because you have been cast out."

Harlow knew what this meant. The Barnes family had their own twisted code of justice, designed to break anyone who defied them.

"The rules state that anyone who wishes to sever ties must withstand the thirty lashes," Mrs. Barnes said, her voice clinical. "After that, you may leave."

Thirty lashes. On top of the injuries she already carried. It could be a death sentence.

But as Harlow looked at the matriarch, her gaze did not waver. The memory of her wedding day flashed in her mind. Kaden hadn't even shown up. He was with Brittaney, comforting her because she was upset about the "fake" marriage.

She remembered every family dinner where Kaden would place food on Brittaney's plate, laughing and talking with her while Harlow sat in silence, invisible.

She remembered the long, lonely nights, hearing his car pull up, only for him to spend hours on the phone, his voice soft and tender as he spoke to Brittaney, sounds he never once directed at her.

She remembered the coldness in his eyes after the rare, forced moments of intimacy, when he would push a glass of water and a pill into her hand. "Take it. You are Mrs. Barnes. That is your title. But you will not bear my child."

Five years. She had hoped, naively, that her quiet devotion, her tireless management of his home, her unwavering loyalty in the face of public humiliation, might one day earn her a sliver of his affection. A payment for the debt he owed her father.

But he had never loved her. He never would. Everyone knew it.

What was the point of staying? It was a mistake to ever have come here, to have believed in a debt of honor from a man who had none.

She was just a joke. A placeholder.

"I accept," Harlow said, her voice clear.

She dragged her broken body back to the opulent mansion she was supposed to call home. Each step was agony. The wounds on her back burned, and her legs felt weak.

As she reached the grand staircase, she heard voices from the living room. Brittaney's, sweet and cloying.

"Kaden, darling, when are you going to get rid of her? I can't stand seeing her face."

"Soon, my love," Kaden's voice was a low murmur, full of the affection Harlow had craved for five years. "Just be patient."

"But your mother seems to like her," Brittaney pouted. "What if she won't let you divorce her?"

Kaden laughed, a sound that was both charming and cruel. "Like her? My mother only cares about appearances. And besides, that marriage isn't even legal."

Harlow froze, her hand gripping the banister.

Brittaney sounded shocked. "What? But... the marriage certificate? I saw it."

"A forgery," Kaden said smoothly. "Just a piece of paper to satisfy the old woman and the press. In the eyes of the law, that woman is nothing to me."

The world tilted. The air left Harlow's lungs. Her blood ran cold.

A forgery.

Five years of suffering, of beatings, of public shame, of holding onto the one thing she thought was real-her status as his wife-and it was all a lie. A cruel, elaborate play.

She wasn't even worthy of a real marriage certificate.

A strange sense of relief washed over the despair. If the marriage wasn't real, then leaving would be even cleaner. She was truly free.

She clenched her fists, ready to turn and walk out the door right now.

Suddenly, a small, white ball of fluff shot out from the living room. It was Princess, Brittaney's spoiled Pomeranian. The dog snarled and sank its teeth into Harlow's calf.

Pain, sharp and searing, erupted from her leg. Blood immediately soaked through her stocking.

She cried out, trying to shake the dog off, but it held on tight, growling.

Footsteps hurried from the living room. Brittaney appeared, dressed in a silk robe that made her look like the lady of the house.

She didn't rush to help. Instead, she pushed Harlow hard, sending her stumbling against the wall.

"Princess! Oh, my baby!" Brittaney cooed, scooping the dog into her arms. She turned on Harlow, her eyes blazing with hatred. "What did you do to my dog? Are you trying to hurt her?"

"She bit me!" Harlow gasped, pointing to her bleeding leg.

"Liar!" Brittaney shrieked. "Princess would never bite anyone unless she was provoked! You vile woman, you were probably trying to kick her!"

Harlow was too tired to argue. The pain in her back and her leg was making her dizzy. She just wanted to leave. She tried to push herself up.

Brittaney saw her movement and a vicious glint appeared in her eyes. She raised her hand to strike Harlow across the face.

Instinctively, Harlow threw up her arm to block the blow, her other hand coming up to push Brittaney away.

At that exact moment, Kaden stepped out of the living room. He saw Harlow's hand extended toward Brittaney and moved in a blur, pulling Brittaney into his protective embrace.