His Unwanted Wife: The Queen of Comebacks

My mother, the CEO of a media empire, gave me a choice between two men for a strategic marriage: my charming Yale tutor or my stoic head of security.

But I'd already lived this life, and I knew the truth: my tutor, Professor Blakely, was conspiring with the "sweet" intern, Sabrina, while my trusted security chief, Andrew Scott, was blindly devoted to her.

In my past life, they plotted against me, framed me for incompetence, and even delivered a laxative-laced energy drink to publicly humiliate me during a major charity gala.

Their betrayal extended to a staged kidnapping, a fabricated "dead" security guard, and a corporate scheme designed to destroy my family's empire, turning my supposed allies into my worst enemies.

Why did they hate me so much, and why would the men I once thought I loved sacrifice everything to elevate a conniving intern?

This time, reborn to the exact moment of choice, I knew I wouldn't fall for their traps; instead, I'd marry the family's shadowy, emotionless "fixer," Wesley Hughes, turning him into my ultimate weapon.

My mother, the CEO of the Clarkson media empire, gave me a choice.

"Madisyn, you need to marry. It stabilizes your position. It stabilizes the company."

She gestured to the two men standing before her desk.

Professor Matthew Blakely, my former tutor from Yale, a man whose intellect was as sharp as his jawline. A strategic alliance.

And Andrew Scott, my head of security, a former Special Forces soldier built like a mountain. A symbol of loyalty.

"Choose one," my mother said, her voice leaving no room for argument.

But I wasn't listening to her. I was listening to the echoes of my past life.

I remembered a conversation I wasn't supposed to hear. Professor Blakely, his voice low and full of passion, speaking to Sabrina Chavez, the sweet-faced intern.

"If she forces this marriage, I' ll use it," he had promised her. "I' ll get access to the Clarkson servers and find a scandal big enough to make your career. You are the only one I love, Sabrina. Not her."

I remembered the kidnapping. A violent, brutal attempt. Andrew was there. But then Sabrina staged a fall a block away, twisting her ankle.

He left me.

"You' re used to threats, Ms. Clarkson," he' d said over the comms, his voice distant as he ran to her. "Sabrina is just a normal girl, she' s not strong like you."

I remembered the end. The hostile takeover that turned bloody. Both men died trying to protect me, their duty overriding their feelings until the very last moment.

Blakely coughed up blood, his hand weakly gripping mine. "Let me go... in the next life... let me find Sabrina."

Scott slumped against the wall, his last breath a whisper. "Promise me... you' ll let me go... I need to be with her."

My heart had shattered then. I agreed. I let them go.

And now, I am back. Reborn to this exact moment. The moment of choice.

My mother stared at me, waiting. Professor Blakely looked confident. Andrew Scott stood stoic, his eyes unreadable.

I took a deep breath, the phantom pain of my past life fading into cold resolve.

I looked past them, to the man standing silently in the corner of the office. Wesley Hughes. The family fixer. A man they called the "Eunuch" in hushed, fearful whispers. A ruthless, emotionless robot in a suit.

I had always feared and despised him.

"I don' t want either of them," I said, my voice clear and steady.

Everyone in the room froze.

I pointed a single, unwavering finger at the man in the shadows.

"I want to marry him. I choose Mr. Hughes."

The silence in my mother' s office was absolute.

Professor Blakely' s handsome face twisted in disbelief. Andrew Scott' s stoic mask finally cracked, showing a flicker of shock.

My mother was the first to speak. "Madisyn, are you out of your mind? That' s Wesley Hughes. He' s a cleaner. A corporate tool. He has no emotions, no family. He is not husband material."

A board member sputtered, "He' s... unsavory, Ms. Clarkson. A man like that is a weapon, not a partner."

"Exactly," I countered, my voice cold. "He is the family' s most dangerous asset. Marrying him doesn' t just give me a husband. It binds our most powerful weapon to me, personally and permanently. It' s the ultimate power move."

I looked at my mother, challenging her. "You wanted to stabilize my position. This is how I do it. No one will dare to move against the woman who holds Wesley Hughes' s leash."

The cold logic hit her. A slow, calculating smile spread across her face. She saw it. The brutal, perfect strategy.

"Very well," she declared, her tone shifting to admiration. "A brilliant move. I' ll have the legal team draft the contracts immediately."

She then looked at Blakely and Scott. "Professor Blakely, Mr. Scott. Your services as Ms. Clarkson' s potential suitors are no longer required. You will be reassigned. Effective once the marriage is finalized."

"I have no objections," I said calmly, a stark contrast to the girl who would have cried and pleaded in her past life.

Outside the office, the two men cornered me.

"What is this, Madisyn?" Blakely sneered, his charm gone, replaced by raw anger. "Are you so desperate for a man you' d marry that... thing?"

Andrew stepped forward, his expression hard. "Who did you choose?"

I gave them a small, cryptic smile. "You' ll find out. At the Clarkson Charity Gala."

Blakely scoffed. "You know my heart belongs to someone else. Why do you keep harassing me?"

Just then, a sweet voice called out, "Professor! Andrew!"

Sabrina Chavez came skipping toward us, holding a single, breathtakingly rare orchid. "Look what I found in the company conservatory! Isn' t it beautiful?"

A light drizzle started to fall. Blakely' s anger melted instantly. He moved to shield her with his body. "Sabrina, you' ll get wet."

Andrew, without a second' s hesitation, took off his own expensive tailored jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

"Thank you, Andrew! You' re so sweet," she chirped.

I felt a familiar chill. I turned to my bodyguard. "Scott, you work for me."

He shot back, "You have dozens of jackets, Ms. Clarkson. Sabrina is delicate. She needs to be taken care of."

To prove his point, Sabrina let out a small cry. "Oh, a puddle! My shoes will be ruined!"

Andrew didn' t even look at me. He took the jacket-the very jacket I had given him last year for saving my life-and threw it into the muddy puddle for her to step on.

He threw away my gratitude for her convenience.