Once The Foolish Wife, Now His Eternal Obsession

"I'm married."

In the darkness, Cathryn Moore felt her back slam into the door, her breath knocked out as a tall man loomed over her. Heat radiated from him, his breath brushing against her neck until she shivered uncontrollably.

Fingers like a vice clamped around her waist, holding her in place. He gave a low, derisive laugh. "Married, huh? Still lurking around in a hotel alone in the middle of the night? Does your husband know what you're really doing?"

Pain stabbed through Cathryn's chest. Barely an hour earlier, a video had arrived on her phone-her husband, Liam Watson, sprawled in bed with Jordyn Moore, her own half-sister, the two of them entwined, not an ounce of guilt between them.

Driven by desperation, Cathryn had stormed into the hotel to catch them red-handed. But before she even found the right room, this unfamiliar man had dragged her into this very room.

"Since you're already here, drop the act," the man murmured, carrying her on his shoulder roughly and tossing her onto the bed. He yanked off his tie with one swift motion and then pinned her wrists high above her head. His mouth crashed down on hers, hard and unrelenting.

"Since you claimed that you're married, you must know how this goes," he taunted, ripping her clothes apart piece by piece.

Cathryn struggled in vain. "I haven't..." Her lips parted, only for the words to wither before they left her mouth. Three years chained to a husband, and she was still a virgin. Who the hell would believe that?

The video of Liam and Jordyn replayed in her head. Heat flooded her chest-fury, raw and scorching. Her struggle ceased.

Then, the man thrust into her ruthlessly. Pain ripped through her body, sharp and merciless, as if her bones might snap. She bit down hard enough to taste blood, the metallic tang flooding her mouth.

The first time she had held onto was torn from her with brutal recklessness-by a man whose face she hadn't even made out in the darkness.

...

Morning light crept across the room, and the buzzing of her phone dragged Cathryn from sleep. She fumbled for it, answering groggily.

"Ms. Moore, Olekgan Hospital here. It's urgent-please get here quickly. It concerns your mother."

From the bed behind her came that deep, mocking drawl. "Was that your husband checking in on you?"

Cathryn scrambled to gather her scattered clothes, slipping them on with frantic hands. Her face stayed downcast as she muttered under her breath, "Let's pretend last night never happened."

To her, the reckless encounter had been nothing more than revenge for Liam's betrayal.

The man sat half-naked on the edge of the bed, his mouth curling into a sneer. "You're even more promiscuous than I thought."

His disdain toward her was unmistakable. Married, but still screwing like a slut-and now she wanted to act like none of their encounters ever went down?

Cathryn refused to give him the satisfaction of a reply. Every thought was consumed by her mother. Without sparing him so much as a glance, she stormed out of the room.

Moments later, a hesitant knock sounded. "Mr. Brooks," someone called softly as they stepped inside.

Andrew Brooks pressed his fingers to his throbbing temple, last night's alcohol still pounding in his skull. "Was this my grandma's doing?"

Karl Bennett, his assistant, nodded quickly, visibly shrinking under Andrew's sharp stare.

Andrew furrowed his brows. So it had been his grandmother, Amanda Brooks, who had sent that woman into his bed. A wave of frustration hit him. He was the head of the most formidable financial empire in the city of Olekgan. And he controlled the largest publicly traded company in this country, Antaford. Yet, he had just lost his virginity to a married woman.

As he reflected on last night, his irritation flared up. Throughout the night, no matter how rough he had been, she hadn't uttered a sound. He'd assumed it meant experience-far too much of it. The way she'd looked just now, calm and indifferent, had sealed his judgment-she was the sort who used men and walked away without a second thought.

Andrew couldn't fathom where his grandmother had found a woman like that for him, or why his grandmother had chosen to push her into his bed. If it hadn't been for the haze of alcohol, he would never have touched her.

Then, his gaze landed on the rumpled sheets, where a sharp splash of red stood out starkly. She was married, wasn't she? So could there be...

A memory surfaced of the faint smear of blood at the corner of her lip before she left. If she had been a virgin-and he had been too rough on her, taking that from her...

...

Cathryn flagged a taxi and sped through the streets toward Olekgan Hospital.

The moment Cathryn stepped inside, Jordyn appeared, arm-in-arm with Liam, parading down the corridor like she owned it.

Heat burned behind Cathryn's eyes. "How long have you two been sleeping together?"

Jordyn curled into Liam's shoulder, her smile wicked and taunting. "The very night you married him," she said, voice dripping with satisfaction. "That's when your husband first came to my bed. Three years of marriage, and you're still a virgin? That's downright pathetic shit."

Her laughter rang through the hallway, sharp and cruel.

The shock tore through Cathryn as if someone had hurled a freezing water straight at her face.

For three long years, Cathryn had managed the household, played the obedient wife, waited night after night for Liam to return-only to discover he'd betrayed her on their wedding night with Jordyn. Every excuse she'd ever made for him-his late nights, his cold distance-shattered in an instant. He had never touched her because he'd already taken another woman-her own half-sister.

Cathryn's chest burned with a mix of humiliation and fury. She was supposed to know better. Jordyn had always enjoyed stealing what was hers, whether toys, dresses, or-now-her husband.

Liam said flatly, his eyes void of emotion, "Cathryn, let's get a divorce. You'll walk away with nothing."

Cathryn's chest tightened as if a blade had been driven straight through it. Three years of loyalty, three years of waiting-and this was what he gave her in return.

A bitter laugh escaped Cathryn's lips. "Liam, do you honestly think I care about your damn money?"

Cathryn had never been the grasping type; her mother's family had been loaded, and she'd never cared about money.

Liam gave a derisive snort. "Do you still think you're some sheltered heiress? The moment your mother's gone, you'll be nothing-just another woman scraping by on the street."

Cathryn went rigid, disbelief flashing across her face. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Cathryn," Jordyn cut in, her grin sharp enough to draw blood. "If you run now, you might actually get to say goodbye to your mother before it's too late."

Cathryn's stomach lurched, and instinctively, she was sprinting down the hallway toward the hospital room.

"I'm sorry, but Bettina Moore passed away from a self-inflicted wound to her wrist." With every syllable, the doctor's voice slammed Cathryn down like a brutal punch to the gut.

"That's impossible!" Cathryn's voice cracked as tears streamed down her face. "My mother's been trapped in a daze for years. She could barely tell one day from the next-there's no way she could have slit her own wrist!"

"She was clearheaded when she was rushed to the hospital," the doctor replied gently.

Cathryn couldn't make sense of it. Her mother had drifted in and out of fog for years-how could she suddenly be clear-minded enough to end her own life?

At the doorway, Jordyn leaned casually against the frame, Liam looming beside her.

Jordyn let out a mocking laugh and tossed a sheet of paper at Cathryn's feet. "Take a good look. That's your mother's last letter. It says she took her own life-and that you willingly gave up any claim to her assets. Dad just called-you've been thrown out of the Moore family. As of this moment, you don't have a penny to your name."

The moment Cathryn saw the paper, she knew the handwriting belonged to her mother, Bettina Moore.

The letter claimed Bettina couldn't bear the pain any longer and had chosen to end her life-then, in cold, flat language, stated that Cathryn had willingly given up any claim to all her assets.

Cathryn's stomach turned. She refused to believe a word of it. Her mother had been confined to a psychiatric hospital for years, barely conscious most days-there was no way she had suddenly written a letter like this. And when had she ever renounced her mother's legacy?

The corners of Jordyn's lips twisted cruelly. "Cathryn, doesn't it sting, having your whole world stripped away?"

Fury burned through Cathryn as she locked eyes with Jordyn. In that moment, it all made sense. Her mother had been relatively lucid just days ago when she last visited-yet now her mother supposedly took her own life. No fucking way! This screamed of schemes orchestrated by Jordyn and Liam.

Bettina had been born into privilege, carrying a fortune into her marriage with Richard Moore, Cathryn's father.

That wealth had hauled Richard out of poverty and turned him into the polished, well-respected Mr. Moore everyone admired.

Now, piecing it all together, Cathryn saw the truth-Richard had slept with that homewrecker Zoe White and fathered Jordyn, yet he'd never divorced Bettina. He'd stayed married just long enough to keep himself in line to inherit Bettina's fortune. Their marriage hadn't been a love story at all. It had been Richard's calculated grab for power and money.

A sharp burn pricked behind Cathryn's eyes. The Moore and Watson families had sucked every ounce out of her mother, leaving her mother and her with nothing, and then tossed them aside like trash. What torment had her mother suffered at the very end? What exactly did they do to her as she drew her last breath?

Cathryn's fists curled so tightly that her nails dug into her palms. Fury clawed at her insides, sharp and vicious, leaving nothing untouched. She would have her vengeance. She would drag the truth into the light, make those responsible answer for what they'd done-and she would not let a single cent of her mother's money fall into the mouths of those leeches. The Moore and Watson families would pay for every single plot they'd crafted and carried through-and she'd make sure they bled for it.

Jordyn leaned in close, voice low and smug. "Cathryn, you might be clever, but so what? To Liam, you're just a dumb bitch with nothing to offer, not to speak of your lack of a diploma. With my degree from a prestigious school, I'm the only one qualified to be his wife."

Watson Tech had been limping along for years, their projects stalled by a technical wall they couldn't break through. If they solved it, the company would finally go public, and the Watson family's standing would skyrocket.

The missing piece was "Kestrel"-a mythical figure in the tech world. Years ago, Kestrel had dropped a single piece of code that sent shockwaves across the industry. Whoever brought Kestrel in would become a kingmaker overnight-maybe even outshine the prestigious Brooks family's empire.

Jordyn's smirk deepened, her chin tilting arrogantly as she stepped back and raised her voice. "I was lucky enough to attend one of Kestrel's lectures while I was studying abroad. He practically treated me like a protégé. If anyone can reach him, it's me."

"Really?" Liam arched a brow, sounding surprised. Industry titans had poured fortunes into tracking down Kestrel in vain, and Jordyn just claimed she actually knew Kestrel?

Jordyn gave a sweet nod and curled herself into Liam's embrace. Kestrel had been elevated to myth, unreachable to almost everyone. She didn't know him at all, but if bluffing could lock down her place as Liam's wife, she'd bluff until the end. She doubted her bluffing would blow up in her face.

Cathryn, standing nearby, let out a sharp, derisive laugh.

Liam's head snapped to Cathryn, his disgust plain. "You barely have an education. Of course, you can't comprehend Kestrel's influence. Anyway, we're divorcing tomorrow. Your belongings will be tossed out-you're not setting foot back in the Watson estate."

With Jordyn clinging smugly to his arm, Liam walked away without a glance back.

Cathryn's eyes locked cold on the duo's retreating figures, brimming with quiet fury. She indeed hadn't gone to school much-she'd been scouted young for a secretive program built to shape extraordinary minds. Coding had always been her weapon.

Cathryn drew out her phone, a dangerous calm settling over her. On the screen glowed the string of code she had spent three relentless years perfecting.

The figure the entire tech industry had hunted for-the legendary Kestrel-was Cathryn herself, hidden in plain sight within the Watson family since her marriage.

Countless sleepless nights had gone into Cathryn's efforts in debugging Watson Tech's systems. Just last night, she had completed the final half of the code. She had meant to give it to Liam-yet after what had happened today, the idea was laughable.

Her grip on the phone tightened, knuckles pale. This code could either launch Watson Tech into the stratosphere-or pull both the Watson and Moore families down into disaster.

Elsewhere, outside one of the VIP rooms of the hospital, the attending physician gave Andrew a detailed report on Jorge Brooks's condition. "The nurses overreacted. Finger movement is a common reflex in a vegetative state. Your father remains unconscious."

Karl lowered his head in self-chastening. "This was my mistake, Mr. Brooks. I thought your father had woken and reported it without double-checking."

Andrew shook his head, his expression carved with icy resolve. "No. Someone deliberately spread word that my father was waking up to stall my succession at Brooks Group."

Looking up, Karl muttered, "Then it must be Cara..."

Cara Brooks-Andrew's calculating stepmother-had been laying traps for years, waiting for the chance to seize control of the conglomerate.

Andrew nodded. His jaw tightened, his eyes glinting cold. "She's getting impatient."

A crease formed between Karl's brows. "No wonder your grandmother keeps arranging suitable women in your life. If she doesn't act first, Cara will. And with women of questionable origins and hidden agendas, no less."

A shadow crossed Andrew's face. Time was already slipping away. He had to secure a wife fast. A marriage was the quickest move that could keep Cara from attempting to plant one of her own people into his life again. An image flashed through his mind-the woman from last night.

"Find someone for me," Andrew ordered, his tone sharp.

With a puzzled blink, Karl queried, "Who?"

"That woman from last night," Andrew muttered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Earlier, while the funeral home staff carried Bettina's body out, Cathryn had drifted through the corridor, dazed and stripped of purpose. By the time she finally came back to herself, she was standing outside a VIP hospital room.

She noted that a tall man in a charcoal suit stood nearby, one hand in his pocket, his sharp profile lit by the sterile hallway lights as he gave crisp orders to his subordinate.

Cathryn instinctively turned to leave-until the subordinate's voice carried across the hall. "Understood, Mr. Brooks."

Cathryn halted mid-stride, her body rigid. A member of the Brooks family?

Andrew's head lifted, his gaze meeting Cathryn's across the distance. His eyes were steady, unreadable, pinning her in place.

Kestrel inclined his head toward Andrew. "I'll send men to search for her right away."

"That won't be necessary." Andrew's voice was quiet but decisive, his attention still fixed on Cathryn.

Karl followed Andrew's line of sight, and his gaze landed on Cathryn. He frowned. Something about the woman's sudden presence seemed off. The timing was far too convenient.

"Mr. Brooks, please tread carefully. A trap might be awaiting you," Karl murmured, keeping his voice low.

Andrew's expression grew even more unreadable. "Find out what brought her here."

With a silent nod, Karl slipped away.

Failing to recognize Andrew, Cathryn turned to leave.

Andrew's voice, laced with sarcasm, called out behind her. "What's this-playing hard to get now?"

Cathryn's brow furrowed with confusion. "You've got the wrong person," she shot back.

Andrew stepped into her path, hands tucked in his pockets, looking down at her with disdain in his eyes. "Funny. This morning, you pretended nothing happened between us last night. And now, hours later, you show up in front of me under the flimsy excuse of a chance meeting-fishing for my attention, huh?"

Cathryn's heartbeat stumbled. So he was the man from last night. The one who had taken her virginity.

Karl hurried back, bending to speak quietly in Andrew's ear. "Her name's Cathryn Moore. She's Richard Moore's oldest daughter. Her mother slit her wrists-she died a little while ago."

Andrew's jaw tightened, his eyes dropping to Cathryn's hand for the first time. A crimson patch bloomed on her palm, bleeding into the fabric of her dress. "Get her cleaned up," he said, voice clipped.

Cathryn was taken to Andrew's place. After a hot shower and slipping into fresh clothes, a bit of life finally crept back into her cheeks.

Andrew sprawled across the sofa, absentmindedly rolling a silver lighter between his fingers, his gaze never leaving her. "So, tell me-how did you manage to fool my grandmother?"

Cathryn stood across from him. "I've never even met your grandmother. And I appreciate what you did, Mr. Brooks. But if you don't need anything else, I'll be on my way."

A short, sharp laugh escaped Andrew. She knew his last name, yet still pretended ignorance. Fine. As long as she wasn't Cara's pawn, he didn't mind a little game. "Let's make a deal." He tossed the lighter onto the table and fixed her with a steady look.

Cathryn froze. A deal? Over what? She had nothing left-no money, no connections. Why would a Brooks want anything from her?

He slid a document across the glass surface. "Read this and sign."

She lifted the document, wary. "What is it?"

"A prenup," he said, folding one leg over the other, every inch the confident, unshakable bachelor.

Cathryn's eyes widened for a beat, surprise flickering across her features.

He smirked, eyes glinting. "Isn't this exactly what you wanted? You've been after the Brooks name all along, haven't you?"

Her jaw set, irritation simmering. "You've got it wrong, Mr. Brooks. I already have a husband."

Andrew straightened and closed the space between them, his shadow casting her in darkness.

A trace of cedar and smoke lingered in the air, sharp and clean, leaving her pulse racing.

His mouth curled into a taunting smile. "If you were that loyal to your husband, why hadn't you refused to spend the night with me?"

Heat crept up her neck. He'd been drunk last night, slow to react. If she'd resisted harder, she might have gotten away. But she hadn't...

Andrew lowered his voice, fingers tilting her chin so he could study her face. "My grandmother chose you for a reason. Divorce your husband. Marry me instead. You won't want for anything."

Cathryn's eyes flickered. He seemed to have some mistaken thoughts about her. Maybe, just maybe, she could use that to her advantage.

Cathryn acknowledged that Jordyn's warning made sense. Alone, her strength was limited. With the Brooks name behind her, everything might change. Here stood a man who exuded power. Even his house screamed privilege and influence. He wasn't just another wealthy heir-he was someone who mattered. With her mother gone and every door closed in her face, there was nothing left to lose.

Squaring her shoulders, Cathryn stared right back at him. "All right. You have yourself a deal."

She flipped through the prenup. Her eyes skimmed the lines of legalese, the words blurring together. With a sigh, she shoved it right back at him. "Read it out loud. I'm not wading through all that."

He raised an eyebrow, unamused. No one ever asked him to do something so trivial. People usually fell over themselves to read things for him.

"I have dyslexia," Cathryn explained, her tone flat. "All those words make my head hurt."

He hesitated, suspicion flickering across his face. Maybe she couldn't read at all. But then, he brushed the thought aside. His grandmother wouldn't pick someone without an education.

Andrew tossed the prenup aside. "You don't need every detail. Just three things matter." He held up a finger. "First, this marriage lasts for only one year. When the year is up, no matter what happens, it ends."

Cathryn's brow arched in mild surprise. Only a year? That was easier than she expected. "I'm fine with that," she said without a hint of hesitation.

Andrew's stare sharpened. "Second, if you get pregnant, the baby stays, but you leave. You don't get to claim the child."

Her eyes narrowed. Cold. But she'd already decided-no children with him. "Understood. And the third?"

Andrew closed the distance, his voice quiet and final. "Last one-you don't get my heart. Don't bother trying for love. I expect nothing from you, and you should expect nothing from me."

A flicker of something unreadable flashed in her eyes, gone as quickly as it came. Sure, he was attractive-intense, commanding. But to her, he was just another man in a world full of them. Love was nowhere on her list.

Without hesitation, she reached for the pen and scrawled her name. "As you wish, Mr. Brooks."