Heiress Unchained: The Bumpkin Wife Came From A Supreme Dynasty

Cold air clung to the walls of the deserted warehouse, and the damp concrete floor sent a biting chill through the space.

"Ezra, someone took me. Please, you have to come get me..."

Curled up near a stack of broken crates, Scarlett Reed tried to make herself smaller. Angry welts striped her arms and back where sticks had struck her, and swollen handprints stained her once delicate face. With shaking fingers, she fumbled her spare phone from her pocket and called her husband, Ezra Wilson.

Soft cries slipped from her throat, and fear made her voice unsteady while her teeth knocked against each other.

"Are you finished?" Ezra answered with clear annoyance from the other end.

For a second, Scarlett couldn't breathe. A dull weight pressed against her chest as she struggled to speak. "I'm telling you the truth. They have guns, and I-"

"That's enough," he cut in without hesitation, his tone flat and sharp. "Do you really think I'd fall for this? You'd lie about being kidnapped just to drag me back? Roselyn's heart stopped. They're still trying to revive her. Can't you act like an adult for once?"

"I wouldn't joke about this. I-"

"We'll deal with it after I return home. Don't call me again."

The line went dead before Scarlett could answer.

She stared at the dark screen in her hand, and tears slowly blurred her vision.

Hopelessness settled over her like a heavy shadow, and whatever strength remained in her expression faded away.

Only hours earlier, the two of them had been strolling through a foreign country on vacation.

Everything changed when Roselyn Lloyd called, crying about sharp pain in her chest. The moment Ezra heard her sobbing, he left Scarlett standing alone on a strange street and rushed straight to the airport without a second glance.

It never crossed his mind that she might be unsafe in a place she didn't know.

All that mattered to him was the woman he had always placed on a pedestal, Roselyn.

After he left, someone yanked a sack over Scarlett's head and hauled her into a van.

From there, they tossed her into this deserted warehouse and took turns hitting her, their fists and boots landing without mercy. Slaps cracked across her face again and again until her skin burned.

Eventually, they grew bored of hurting her. Once they stepped out for lunch, she finally found a small window to beg for help.

Her phone vibrated in her hand with a new message. Roselyn had sent her a photo on WhatsApp.

In the image, Ezra's shirt clung to him with sweat as he cradled Roselyn like something fragile that might break. He held her with careful arms, shielding her as though she were priceless.

The fear and desperation written all over his face were emotions Scarlett had never once received from him in three years of marriage.

A sharp ache tore through her chest, so fierce it almost made her gasp.

A hollow laugh slipped from her lips, and tears quickly followed.

While she hovered between life and death, her husband stood beside another woman and poured all his concern into her.

There was nothing left in this marriage worth saving.

She brushed the tears off her cheeks, and whatever warmth once lived in her eyes disappeared.

If she survived this, the first thing she would do was end the marriage for good.

Before she could think any further, the scrape of metal chains echoed from outside the door. The men had come back.

Without hesitating, Scarlett shoved the phone into her pocket and lifted her eyes toward the narrow vent near the ceiling.

No one was coming for her. If she wanted to live, she'd have to get herself out.

Ignoring the sting in her torn knees, she hauled herself onto the pile of wooden crates and forced her body through the grimy opening. Jagged rusted wire tore across her arm, and blood slid down with the rainwater that poured in. She clenched her teeth and kept moving.

Her body dropped into a filthy alley behind the warehouse.

Rain hammered down from above, soaking everything and turning the ground into a slick mess. The instant her feet hit the pavement, her ankle twisted with a sickening snap, and pain shot up her leg.

She pressed her lips together to keep from crying out and dragged her injured leg forward, pushing herself farther into the shadows.

Just as she staggered out onto the main road, headlights cut through the storm as a high end car sped toward her.

"Shit! That bitch escaped!"

"Move! Don't let her get far!"

The kidnappers' angry yells exploded behind her.

Scarlett tightened her jaw and forced herself to stay upright as she stepped into the road and waved both arms at the oncoming car.

A piercing shriek from the brakes sliced through the downpour.

The driver's window slid open, and he leaned out with clear irritation. "Do you have a death wish?"

Instead of answering him, Scarlett lifted her eyes toward the back seat.

Inside sat a man in a tailored black suit. His sharp features stood out even in the dim light, and the calm authority in his posture made him seem distant and untouchable.

Rainwater streamed down her face along with her tears. She dragged a hand across her cheeks and looked straight at him. "Sir, I was kidnapped. I managed to get away, but they're right behind me. Please help me."

The noise outside caught the man's attention, and he slowly turned his head.

His eyes rested on her mud-stained figure. Even soaked and shaken, she stood upright. Something unreadable moved through his gaze.

Behind her, hurried footsteps splashed against the wet pavement, mixed with angry shouting as the men closed in.

Desperation pushed Scarlett forward, and she slammed her blood-stained palms against the car window. Her throat burned as she forced the words out. "Please. I'm begging you, help me!"

The pounding of boots splashing through rainwater echoed closer and closer.

From the back seat, the man observed her without looking away, as if weighing her worth in silence.

Fear tightened her chest, yet she kept speaking. She shot a glance over her shoulder at the men rushing toward her, then looked back at him. Her face had gone pale, and tears clung to her lashes. "If you save me tonight, I won't forget it. I'll repay you. I swear I will."

A faint curve lifted at the corner of his lips. "Get in."

After Scarlett got in, the driver pressed the gas, and the engine roared to life.

...

Rain lashed against the windows while the car sped through the night, and the kidnappers' shouts faded into nothing behind them.

She was still breathing. She had made it.

Without another word, the man had the driver take her back to the hotel where she had been staying.

Scarlett pulled her phone from her pocket with shaking fingers.

Water streaked across the screen, and she wiped it away carelessly with her sleeve.

Nothing waited for her, no missed calls, no messages, not even a single notification on WhatsApp.

Nothing lit up on the screen, and whatever fragile hope she had been clinging to faded for good.

She forced herself to blink away the tears that threatened to fall.

After steadying her breath, she lifted her chin and met the man's gaze. "Can I have your contact info?"

Without a word, he drew out his phone with his long fingers, opened his account details, and held the screen toward her.

She added him to her contacts. Right after that, she sent thirty thousand to his Venmo account.

"This is everything I can give you for now," Scarlett said, tilting her head up to look at the man. He stood a head taller than her. "When I get back to my country, I'll return the favor properly."

A faint smile touched his lips as he sent her a message with his name. "Asher Owen."

She quickly typed her own in response. "Scarlett Reed."

Gratitude filled her eyes as she looked at him again. "Thank you for saving me tonight. I need to go back home now."

"Alright. Have a safe trip," Asher replied before turning to leave.

Even as he walked away, his thoughts lingered on her.

At first glance, she gave off a fragile and pitiful impression, yet beneath that softness lived a quiet distance and an unyielding streak.

A woman like her shouldn't be left out in the cold. She should've been cherished and shielded.

The thought of seeing her again stirred an unexpected sense of anticipation in him.

Five exhausting hours later, Scarlett's plane finally touched down in her home country.

Instead of lingering at the airport, she called for a ride and headed straight to Sky Estate, the place she once called home with Ezra.

The house was empty when she arrived. No doubt he was still by Roselyn's side, holding her close and comforting her after the incident.

A faint, bitter smile curved across her lips as irony twisted in her chest.

Rather than hesitate, she went straight into the study, powered on the computer, and printed two copies of the divorce agreement. Once the papers slid out, she signed her name without pause.

With that done, she walked into the bedroom and began packing her belongings.

The oversized wedding portrait above the bed caught her eye, and the sight of it felt almost laughable now.

Without second thoughts, she stepped onto the mattress, yanked the frame off the wall, and flung it to the floor.

The crash echoed through the room as the glass shattered, and broken pieces scattered across the floor.

The smiling faces in that wedding photo could never be put back together again.

Without a flicker of emotion, Scarlett stepped across the broken glass and pulled out her old twenty-inch suitcase.

That suitcase was the one she had carried with her when she first married into this family. Now it was the only thing she planned to leave with. Inside, she placed a few washed-out T-shirts, an old pair of jeans, and the photo album she had flipped through so many times that the edges had grown thin.

Every dress and piece of jewelry Ezra had given her to maintain the image of a perfect wife remained untouched.

Ten minutes later, she brought the suitcase downstairs and set the signed divorce papers in the center of the marble table.

The fingerprint lock at the entrance beeped as it opened.

Ezra walked in, fatigue written plainly across his face. The moment he noticed the ruined wedding portrait tossed into the trash, his expression hardened.

Without pausing, he strode toward Scarlett.

"You came back already?" Ezra asked, his brows drawn together.

She let out a short, humorless laugh and kept moving. "Did you expect me to stay there and wait for them to finish me off?"

His face turned colder as he stepped in front of her. "What are you angry about this time?" he said, his tone sharp with impatience. "I already told you on the phone. Roselyn's heart condition acted up, and I had to be there. Can't you try to understand that?"

Only half a day earlier, Scarlett had told Ezra she was kidnapped. Now she stood right in front of him, back in the country as if nothing had happened.

From Ezra's point of view, she didn't appear like someone who had suffered at all.

Slowly, Scarlett raised her eyes to meet his. The warmth that once filled her gaze whenever she looked at him had vanished without a trace. "We need to end this. I want a divorce."

Shock flickered across Ezra's face before it hardened. "Do you even hear yourself right now?"

Her tone stayed steady, stripped of feeling. "I'm very clear about it. I'm asking for a divorce."

"A divorce?" He gave a short, mocking laugh and swept his hand toward the grand interior around them. "After we split, where do you plan to go? Back to the countryside? You've enjoyed this life as Mrs. Wilson, surrounded by money and comfort. What more could you possibly want?"

His words sent a chill straight through her.

In his mind, she was incapable of standing on her own, as if her existence depended entirely on a husband.

What he never bothered to learn was that long before she married him, she had already built a name for herself as one of the country's leading jewelry designers.

She had stepped away from the spotlight and given up the career she loved so she could focus on their marriage.

Looking back now, that sacrifice felt almost ridiculous.

"If anyone wants the title of Mrs. Wilson, they can have it," Scarlett said, her eyes holding nothing but cold. "The papers are on the table. Read them and sign."

Without waiting for his reply, she turned and headed for the door, dragging the suitcase behind her.

A deeper shadow crossed Ezra's face, and he gave a harsh laugh. "Scarlett, if you step out that door today, don't even think about coming back."

"Relax. I have no intention of returning." Scarlett didn't hesitate. A cold smile touched her lips as she met his eyes.

At that moment, Sylvia Wilson, Ezra's mother, descended the stairs in a silk nightgown. The suitcase by Scarlett's side made her stop short. "What is this? Are you planning to run off?"

Scarlett faced her calmly. A faint curve lifted the corner of her mouth, but her voice carried no warmth. "Yes. I'm filing for divorce. Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

From the day she entered the Wilson household, she had been met with endless criticism and quiet humiliation. Sylvia found fault in everything she did, reminded her she was an orphan, and never missed a chance to praise Roselyn, the heiress of the Lloyd family, while belittling Scarlett at every turn.

Sylvia studied her for a few seconds before letting out a sharp scoff. "You should've left a long time ago."

She then shifted her attention to her son. "She's a walking disaster. Keeping her here only invites trouble. She's an orphan with no background. How could she ever be worthy of you? Roselyn is the only one who suits you. End this marriage and clear the way for her."

A heavy look settled over Ezra's face. "Mom, that's enough."

"Am I lying? She married into this family and lives in luxury, yet she still complains. Scarlett, since you're the one asking for a divorce, don't you dare come begging to return later," Sylvia replied without hesitation as she folded her arms.

Scarlett watched the two of them and felt nothing but disbelief.

This was the family she had cared for over the past three years, the people she had tried so hard to please.

A hollow laugh slipped from Scarlett's lips. She squared her shoulders and met their eyes without flinching. "Marrying into this family was the biggest mistake I've ever made. From today on, we have nothing to do with each other. I don't want to see any of you again."

She gripped the handle of her suitcase and walked out without once turning her head.

"Scarlett! Get back here!"

Ezra moved on instinct, ready to follow her, but Sylvia caught his arm and pulled him back.

"Why are you running after her?" she said with certainty. "She's putting on an act to gain the advantage. Just wait. When she realizes she can't survive out there, she'll return on her own. And when she does, make sure she understands her place."

Ezra stood frozen as Scarlett's figure grew smaller and finally vanished into the night. A sharp ache tightened around his chest, as if something he should've held onto had slipped through his fingers.

...

Beyond the gates of the mansion, the wind moved through the trees, and their leaves rustled under the dark sky.

With her suitcase rolling behind her, Scarlett walked along the quiet road and drew in the cool air. For the first time in a long while, her mind felt clear.

Headlights appeared in the distance, and a black luxury car slowed before stopping in front of her.

The rear door opened.

A long leg stepped onto the pavement.

Dressed in a tailored black suit, the man carried himself with steady confidence. His sharp features and composed stance spoke of power and status.

He walked straight toward her. The moment he noticed her pale face and the mud staining her dress, something shifted in his usually decisive gaze.

"Scarlett," he called out, his deep voice unsteady despite his effort to control it. "I'm your brother. I've spent the last year searching for you. I finally found you."