His Unwanted Wife, The Tycoon's Unforgettable Obsession

"Your husband's condition has reached late-stage stomach cancer," the doctor explained, keeping his voice steady and composed. "With conservative treatment, he may only have around two months. There is a surgical option, but it's costly and carries significant risks. If it succeeds, it could extend his life by several years. You should take this information home and discuss it with your husband."

Vivian Brown knitted her brows together.

For half a year, unease had lingered in her chest. Vincent Brown had been unwell, yet every time she asked, he dismissed it, blaming exhaustion from work and refusing any medical checkups. She had talked him into having a full workup at the hospital just last week.

Today, she had only come to pick up his test results. Never once had she imagined the truth would be this devastating.

By the time she left the hospital, her thoughts were scattered. She barely remembered the trip home, her fingers gripping the report so tightly it crumpled at the edges.

The door had barely closed behind her when Vincent flung a stack of papers toward her. "Vivian, I want a divorce."

For one fleeting second, a fragile thought crossed her mind. Maybe he already knew. Maybe this was his way of sparing her, pushing her away so she wouldn't have to carry his burden. "So... you've found out already, haven't you?"

Vincent had yet to respond when Chloe Carpenter-his so-called cousin-stepped in, her palm resting lightly over the small curve of her abdomen.

"Of course, he knows. I'm the one who told him," Chloe chimed in, her lips curling with satisfaction. "I happened to see you during my prenatal visit. You caught my attention, so I followed you. I caught scraps of your conversation with your doctor. Late-stage cancer... who would've guessed?"

"You're mistaken. That's not what-" Vivian tried to explain, but Vincent's mother cut in before she could finish.

Leaning heavily on her cane, Helen Brown moved closer at a slow pace. "Vivian, don't take this the wrong way, but Vincent already has enough pressure providing for this household. Adding your situation into the mix would only drain everything. You're sensible. You wouldn't want to hold him back, would you?"

The air seemed to freeze around Vivian. So that was the truth.

Vincent believed she was the one who was sick. In his mind, she had become a liability, and that was reason enough to cast her aside.

Clinging to the last bit of hope she had left, she turned to Vincent. "Baby, this isn't the end. Treatment is still possible. As for the expenses, we can sell the condo."

Helen's voice shot up instantly. "Sell the condo? Have you lost your mind?"

The warmth Vincent once carried disappeared without a trace. What replaced it was a cold, unyielding stare.

"That's not happening." A flicker of impatience crossed his face, and whatever restraint he had left broke apart. "I'm done pretending, Vivian. Chloe is pregnant with my child. And the condo? It's already under her name."

The words hit like a blow Vivian couldn't brace for. "What did you just say?"

Now that everything was laid bare, Chloe slipped her arm through Vincent's and leaned into him, her expression brimming with victory.

"Vivian, you really never figured it out?" Chloe spoke, her tone sharp and cutting. "I was never his cousin. That was just a story we used, so I could stay by his side without questions. You believed it for five whole years... and spent all that time taking care of us."

"Tell me honestly... is it all true?" Vivian's voice came out unsteady as her eyes moved from Helen to Vincent. Neither of them looked her in the eye.

The medical report crinkled in her grasp as her fingers tightened around it.

Instead of pain, an odd emptiness settled over her.

Five years earlier, she had become Vincent's wife. On the day they married, he had introduced Chloe as a cousin who had fallen on hard times and needed a place to stay. Not long after, Chloe became a permanent fixture in their home.

The very next day, Vincent had convinced Vivian to quit her job. He told her his mother was confined to bed and needed constant care. Believing she was marrying a devoted son, Vivian walked away from a bright future in pharmaceuticals and devoted herself to the family instead.

For five years, she had used every professional connection she possessed to help Vincent advance in his career until he eventually sat in the CEO's office at Life Pharmaceuticals.

She had remained at Helen's side, overseeing treatments, arranging therapy sessions, and patiently helping her recover from paralysis.

She had treated Chloe like family. When complications threatened Chloe's pregnancy, Vivian had exhausted every favor she could call in to secure medication and personally managed the treatment that protected the child.

And now the truth stood before her in all its ugliness. Everything she had believed in for five years had been built on deception.

Slowly, Vivian shut her eyes. A long breath left her lungs. When she looked up again, the sorrow had disappeared. The warmth was gone as well. "All right. If that's what you want."

Reaching down, Vivian picked up the divorce papers. Her eyes skimmed over the contents, and a faint laugh escaped her throat.

After everything she had given them, they intended to send her away with absolutely nothing.

Without arguing or questioning a single clause, Vivian signed her name. Once the pen left the page, she looked directly at Vincent. "One day, you may regret this."

The ease with which Vivian signed caught Chloe off guard for only a second. Then satisfaction spread across her face.

"Regret? Why would we? We'll probably be celebrating instead." Chloe's eyes swept over Vivian dismissively. "But... I might let you stay and work here as a servant."

"Chloe, you're a kind girl." Helen smiled at her.

Her expression turned cold as she faced Vivian. "You're nothing more than a stay-at-home wife with no real value. Vincent's future should be shared with someone accomplished, someone respected, someone like Chloe. Frankly, you should be thanking her. A servant position is already more than you've earned."

A faint smile touched Vivian's lips.

"No, thanks." Then she shifted her attention back to Vincent. "Tomorrow at three. We'll finish the divorce procedures."

The following day, after the divorce officially took effect, Vincent wasted no time. Before the morning was over, he and Chloe had already registered their marriage.

"Vivian."

Vivian was just about to walk away when Chloe's voice rang out behind her.

She recognized Chloe's voice immediately but made no move to face her.

With Vincent at her side, Chloe strode over and deliberately held up a marriage certificate for her to see. "Take a look. Vincent and I got married today. The moment your divorce was finalized, we headed straight over to register our marriage. Everything went smoothly. Pretty fast, wasn't it?"

"Good for you. Congratulations." A faint smile touched Vivian's lips.

Chloe narrowed her eyes. She didn't buy that reaction for a second. "Drop the act, Vivian. I know you're miserable. You're sick and running out of time. How could you possibly be happy?"

"Vivian," Vincent said, his tone noticeably gentler, "Chloe's family has practiced medicine for generations. In a few days, she'll officially become a student of the Physician King. If you ask her nicely, she may be willing to help you. At the very least, she could probably extend your life."

"Become the Physician King's student?" Vivian looked directly at him. "She's nowhere near qualified."

Vincent's face tightened, but Chloe silenced him with a casual flick of her hand. "Why are we arguing with someone who's already halfway to the grave? The Physician King will be back in three days. I should spend my time preparing a proper gift instead."

"You're right. I wonder what someone like him would actually like." Vincent escorted Chloe toward his car, keeping a protective arm around her.

Vivian watched them disappear from sight. Then a cold smile slowly formed on her face.

So Chloe was still dreaming about becoming her apprentice.

In three days, she would make sure Chloe received a surprise she would never forget.

After making up her mind, Vivian pulled out her phone and placed a call. The line connected almost instantly. "Arthur, keep my identity confidential for now. At the welcome banquet three days from now, I want to reveal it myself. There's someone I'd like to surprise."

The man on the other end was Arthur Coleman, director of the renowned Yadem Institute. "Don't worry, Vivian. No one will hear a word from us," he replied.

A brief silence followed.

"There's another issue I need to discuss with you. The research project you planned to resume requires access to the NR data. Unfortunately, the Marshall Group controls the exclusive rights. I've already approached the person in charge, but they refused to cooperate. According to them, the information is strictly confidential and cannot be shared."

A faint frown touched Vivian's face. "We'll talk when we meet."

She ended the call and headed to the meeting place. Not long after, movement ahead caught her attention.

A large group had gathered near the roadside. Some people were pointing toward the center of the crowd. Others were filming with their phones, while a few had already started livestreaming.

"Looks like another staged accident scam."

The comment made Vivian glance over. She had no intention of getting involved. However, the moment she spotted an elderly woman through the gaps between the spectators, she changed course and pushed her way forward.

The elderly woman lay curled by the curb, her skin a pale, lifeless gray.

As Vivian crouched down, a man standing nearby quickly tried to stop her. "Young lady, think twice before helping. This area is famous for scams like this. A delivery guy stopped to help an old woman not long ago and ended up being sued for $10, 000."

Another bystander immediately agreed, "Exactly. If you touch her, you'll only create problems for yourself. Just wait for the authorities."

Vivian paid no attention to either of them. Instead, she reached for the elderly woman's wrist and quietly checked her pulse.

A moment later, her expression changed.

The woman had been poisoned, and the toxin had already spread throughout her body. Judging by the symptoms, she was dangerously close to the point of no return.

Without wasting another second, Vivian reached into her pocket. She carried a small medicine vial everywhere she went.

After removing the cap, she shook out a single dark-colored pill.

Carefully supporting the woman's chin, Vivian placed the medicine into her mouth.

The reaction from the crowd was immediate.

"Has she lost her mind? Why is she putting something in that woman's mouth?"

"What if something happens now? She'll never be able to explain it!"

Before the commotion could settle, a black Maybach rolled to a stop nearby.

A tall man stepped out and headed straight toward the scene. The crowd instinctively moved aside. No one dared stand in his way.

The evening light cast sharp shadows across his face, making him appear even colder. His expression was unreadable, and the powerful presence surrounding him made people retreat without thinking.

The moment his eyes landed on the elderly woman, his composure faltered. He crossed the distance in seconds and carefully lifted her into his arms. "Grandma!"

After discovering she had disappeared, he had dispatched people across the city to find her.

Never once had he imagined finding her like this.

Without warning, he grabbed her wrist. His fingers locked around it with startling force. A chilling look settled in his eyes as he stared directly at her. "What did you do to my grandmother?"

Waylon Marshall held onto Vivian's wrist with an unbreakable grip, leaving no room for resistance.

The instant she realized there was no way out, Vivian went still. She straightened her posture, lifted her chin, and looked directly at him without hesitation. "Let go of me. I'm trying to help her."

The crowd's hushed voices blended into the strained atmosphere.

"I warned you not to interfere when strangers collapse in public. It's always a trap, usually some kind of scam. Honestly, this is on you," someone said under their breath.

One of Waylon's guards shot a cold look at the man, and the comment died on the spot.

Sensing the situation turning dangerous, the bystanders wasted no time backing away, unwilling to get involved.

Waylon kept his eyes on Vivian, his gaze sharp with doubt.

There was nothing striking about her appearance. Her face was bare, her white shirt looked worn at the edges, and her jeans had faded to a dull shade. A canvas bag rested against her side, clearly used for far too long.

His attention shifted from the vial in her hand back to her face. She remained composed, her expression steady and impossible to read.

"You'd better hope nothing's happened to my grandmother. If she's hurt, I won't-"

His words cut off before he could finish. The elderly woman in his arms began to stir, and the threat never made it past his lips.

Matilda Marshall slowly opened her eyes. She blinked, her vision unfocused at first, then gradually settled on Waylon. Confusion filled her expression. "Waylon? Why are you here?"

The tension in Waylon's body eased at once. He let go of Vivian without thinking and carefully helped Matilda sit up. "Grandma, you fainted earlier. Do you feel alright?"

Matilda didn't respond to him. Instead, her attention shifted to Vivian, and she stared at her with unexpected intensity. "My granddaughter-in-law was the one who saved me."

Silence fell, heavy and stunned.

Waylon recovered first, a flicker of realization passing through his eyes. Vivian had truly saved her.

"She's not your granddaughter-in-law. Let's head home first," he explained.

Matilda pulled her hand away from him with surprising strength. "Didn't you two go to the courthouse? You said you were going to register your marriage. Why are you still here? Did you argue?"

Vivian paused, then understanding clicked into place. This was no simple confusion. It matched the signs of dementia caused by long-term toxin exposure. "Ma'am, I think you've mistaken me for someone else."

Waylon's expression darkened further. He tried again, softening his tone as much as he could. "Grandma, your memory's mixing things up. She isn't-"

"I want proof of the marriage. Show me the certificate. Where is it?" Matilda cut in, completely ignoring everything they said.

Vivian checked the time on her phone and felt a flicker of urgency. "She's fine now, so I really need to leave."

Before she could step away, Matilda caught her hand and held on tight, her grip far stronger than expected. "You're not leaving. Not until I see that certificate. If you don't show it to me, I'll... I'll stop eating."

Waylon let out a quiet breath and pressed his fingers against his temple. When his grandmother made up her mind, there was no point trying to reason with her.

At that moment, Vivian's phone started ringing. Arthur's name appeared on the screen. With one hand still held captive, she awkwardly answered using the other.

"I'm really sorry, Arthur. Something urgent came up. Yes, we'll have to move it. I'll call you later," she said.

The call ended, and when Vivian looked up, Matilda was smiling at her, her expression filled with satisfaction. "Don't stay mad at Waylon. I'll make him give you the Marshall Group as a present. Would that make you happy?"

Marshall Group?

A question immediately formed in Vivian's mind. Was this man actually tied to that company?

Before she could voice it, Matilda turned to Waylon again. "Why are you still standing there? Take her and go make your marriage official now. And if you upset her again, don't come back home!"

Waylon's face tightened, his patience clearly wearing thin, but he still gave in. "Fine," he responded through clenched teeth.

Only then did Matilda let go of Vivian's hand. She calmly took a seat on the courthouse steps, looking completely at ease. "I'll stay here and wait."

With no other option left, Waylon guided Vivian a few steps away. "About earlier... I misjudged you."

The apology he should have said never came out.

"As you can tell," he continued. "I need you to register a marriage with me. Just to keep my grandmother satisfied."

Vivian almost refused on instinct, but something held her back. "What exactly is your relationship with the Marshall Group?"

"I run it. I'm Waylon Marshall," he replied without hesitation.

Vivian's eyes widened a little. So he was the head of Marshall Group, the man who had a reputation for being ruthless and decisive in the business world.

Waylon continued, "We'll get divorced after a month. In return, you can name one condition, and I'll fulfill it."

He lifted his wrist and checked the time, his movements precise and detached. "You've got two minutes. Make your choice."

The refusal Vivian had been ready to voice never made it out.

The NR data she had been chasing for her research was locked within Marshall Group's vaults. She couldn't get it anywhere else.

It would only last a month. She could handle that.

A small, resolute smile formed on her lips. "Alright. I'll do it."

They completed the prenuptial agreement, and once the formalities were done, they walked out.

It wasn't until Matilda personally confirmed the document that she finally agreed to leave her spot on the courthouse steps. "Perfect! Come along with me, my dear granddaughter-in-law."

Waylon pressed his fingers against his temple as a dull ache started to form. Today, it was a marriage. He didn't want to think about what she would ask for next.

As Vivian helped Matilda settle into the car, Leo Beckett-Waylon's assistant-stepped forward at last.

Leo found it hard to believe what he was seeing. The man who had built Marshall Group into an industry giant in just three years-the most influential figure in Ekaville-was utterly helpless when it came to his grandmother.

He cleared his throat. "Mr. Marshall, I've verified the information. The Physician King will show up again in three days."

A sharp glint appeared in Waylon's eyes. "Prepare the gift. Reach out to him right away. He's the only one who can remove the toxin from my grandmother's body."