Scorned Wife, Now Craved by the Tyrant Don

WREN

Discovering that my esteemed sister-in-law-whom I had served with such deference for the past three years-was having an affair with my husband had definitely not been on my bucket list that year.

Especially not during our anniversary getaway.

That trip with James had been anything but smooth. Even from across the ocean, his mother hadn't stopped calling about the baby situation. Three years of marriage, and under the crushing weight of Abigail Davis's expectations, we had been drowning in infertility treatments-my IVF cycles, James's prostate issues, endless clinic visits that had bled us dry in more ways than one.

I had known our marriage wasn't built on love. It had been Arthur Davis's deathbed wish, nothing more. But that didn't mean I hadn't hoped for something sweeter. Of course I had wanted love. I had wanted a real family with my husband. Some things just weren't meant to be.

I had understood James's pressure. He had spent his entire life in his brother's shadow. His mother loved him, yes-but she had loved Benjamin more. Benjamin had outshone him in looks, talent, capability, even fertility. Benjamin and Ava had been the picture-perfect couple, complete with their six-year-old son, Liam.

That was why we had planned that trip. An escape from the suffocating family pressure. I had thought the relaxed atmosphere might bring us closer, maybe even improve our chances of conceiving. But before we could so much as connect, seasickness had claimed me. James had prepared some calming tea, and I had drifted off early.

Then I had woken in the middle of the night, searching for my husband. And there it was-a muffled groan coming from the bathroom.

"Ah, James... I'm almost there."

I froze with my hand on the bathroom door handle, because I recognized that voice.

Ava. Benjamin's wife. James's sister-in-law.

As if answering my unspoken suspicion, James's voice followed: "Wait for me, Ava. I miss you so much."

My hand trembled as I pushed the door open a crack. There he was-my husband-on a video call with his brother's wife, both of them in the midst of something I was never meant to see.

James was naked, his back facing me, and his head jutted down to the sink, his dick in his hand. His face contorted with desire.

On the other end of the phone, Ava was naked and her legs sprawled out while she dug her fingers into her vagina, her eyes rolled to the back in pleasure.

My lips quivered. Humiliation washed over me, cold and suffocating.

Was this the reason we'd never been able to conceive all these years?

Because my husband had been busy fucking his sister-in-law.

After they'd both finished, Ava's voice turned lazy, dripping with a contempt that shattered her usual mask of elegance and grace. "James, tell me-who's hotter, me or that little bitch Wren?"

"You, Ava. Always you. I've loved you since the first moment I saw you." His words came easily, without hesitation. "Wren's just a burden Grandfather saddled me with. Years of marriage and she can't even produce a son-you can imagine how boring she is in bed."

"If it weren't for the inheritance Grandfather promised, I'd have divorced her ages ago. You're the one I've always wanted to marry, Ava. Only you."

Tears welled in my eyes. I couldn't listen anymore.

I threw the door open.

"You filthy bastards!"

James spun around, fumbling to hide his phone behind his back. His eyes went wide-he hadn't anticipated this. "Weren't you asleep?"

"You... how could you..." I pointed at them, my voice strangled, words failing me.

And then-perhaps it was the lingering effect of the calming tea-my knees buckled. I crumpled to the floor, and everything went dark.

*

Shapes blurred around me. The room was unnaturally bright, sunlight filtering through the windows and casting hazy halos across everything.

I squinted, forcing my eyes open, but a dull throb pounded through my head, and I had to let them fall shut again.

"Fuck." I tried again. This time, my eyes stayed open.

James sat on the edge of the bed beside me, watching me with an unblinking stare. "Hey," he murmured softly, his hands reaching to cup my face.

Yesterday's memories crept back in fragments. I clamped my mouth shut, fighting the urge to gag as my stomach churned with nausea.

I slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me with those dirty hands. I'm telling everyone-you've been fucking your sister-in-law behind my back this whole time!"

"What the hell are you talking about, Wren?" James's voice rose, his face a mask of innocence and wounded confusion. "I haven't left your side since you passed out from seasickness. And now you wake up accusing me of betraying our marriage? That really hurts, Wren."

The pain flickering across his face gave me pause. What?

"But last night, I clearly saw-"

"You slept through the entire night, Wren," James cut me off. "I've been right here watching over you until just now. And you're accusing me of..." He even turned away, as if wiping tears from his eyes.

That was when the ship's doctor stepped in. "Mrs. Davis, congratulations on waking up. Mr. Davis has been by your side all night-worn himself out watching over you."

I stared at the doctor, then at James's back, confusion deepening.

"But last night..."

"You took a nasty fall yesterday, hit your head. That might cause some memory confusion."

My heart clenched. Was it true? Had my husband not been cheating with his sister-in-law after all? Had last night been nothing but a dream?

Then why did every instinct scream otherwise? Why did I recoil from James's every touch, every nearness?

James's phone rang. He snatched it up quickly, and something flickered in his eyes-an emotion I couldn't read.

Then both the doctor and I watched as the phone slipped dramatically from his hand.

James turned to me, his lips trembling. "Wren... our trip... we have to cut it short."

"Benjamin... Benjamin's been in an accident."

WREN.

Benjamin Davis's death arrived with brutal suddenness. With no time to untangle the chaos of the previous night, James and I boarded the flight home.

James said nothing during the entire journey.

Though my mind still churned over what had-or hadn't-happened the night before, I knew this wasn't the time. Benjamin was dead. He was James's brother, and as his wife, as a daughter-in-law of the Davis family, I had to prioritize what mattered.

We didn't arrive at the Davis estate until late evening. The entire household was steeped in grief, the atmosphere thick and suffocating.

Only then did the weight of Benjamin Davis's death truly hit me.

He had been the family's pride, its pillar. Though we'd rarely spoken, he'd been one of the few-besides Grandfather Arthur-who had never looked at me with disdain. With him at its center, the Davis family had always seemed unshakable.

Now he was gone. Forever.

When James took my hand and pushed open the main room doors, my heart clenched with sorrow and dread. Everyone knew what Benjamin meant to my mother-in-law, Abigail. Losing her cherished eldest son-I could already imagine her grief, and her fury.

The reception room was packed. Abigail stood at its center, surrounded by friends offering condolences. The sudden death of her firstborn had struck the proud woman hard. She'd managed to maintain her dignity-until she spotted her younger son. James strode toward her.

"I'm sorry we're late, Mother..."

Abigail let out a broken sob. In that moment, despite all my terrible history with this woman, my heart ached for a mother who had just lost her child.

After releasing Abigail, James moved toward Ava. There was an eagerness in his stride; he probably thought no one noticed.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," he murmured.

Looking at Ava's swollen, tear-stained eyes, a wave of guilt washed over me. How could I have suspected this poor woman of having an affair with my husband? I was a terrible person.

But then-

The way they embraced. The way their bodies leaned into each other just a fraction too long, too close. Something intimate beneath the grief.

Revulsion surged through me again, unstoppable.

Had last night really been just a dream?

Fortunately, they remembered the crowd around them and finally pulled apart.

Out of duty, I approached Ava to offer my own condolences. That was when it hit me-the perfume she wore. It was the same scent that had clung to James's clothes on those nights he'd come home late.

The ones he'd dismissed as nothing more than accidental contact with some female client at a business meeting.

That strange unease coiled in my stomach again.

I forced it down. Telling myself this was Benjamin's funeral. Out of respect for him, whatever questions I have could wait.

Then I moved toward Liam, Ava's son, standing quietly beside her. I bent to offer the boy my condolences.

Without warning, he shoved me hard.

I stumbled, struggling to catch my balance. Ava rushed forward, feigning concern-and in her flurry of movement, her arm caught the gray vase held by Benjamin's personal assistant.

The vase shattered against the floor.

My heart stopped when I recognized it.

"That was Benjamin's favorite vase, you useless woman!"

My gaze flickered toward my mother-in-law.

Abigail, her eyes burning with an unforgiving fury, rushed towards us and hurled the hot tea she'd been holding directly toward Ava and me.

The sudden chaos froze me in place.

In a flash, a figure moved. James. For one naive instant, I almost believed he was coming to save me. I was his wife, after all.

But the next moment, his protective arms wrapped around Ava as she crumpled delicately against his chest, sobbing.

And me?

I stood there drenched. Ruined. Wet strands of hair plastered themselves to my face, the heat of the tea still radiating against my skin. But that discomfort was nothing compared to the fire igniting in my chest.

I clenched my fists, glaring at James.

He had chosen his sister-in-law over me-his own wife-in front of everyone. Whatever I had or hadn't seen last night, this moment confirmed it. Something was wrong between them. Something far beyond grief.

As if suddenly remembering I existed, James released Ava and approached me. "Wren, are you all right?"

I pulled my hand back coldly, a bitter laugh escaping me. "Oh, so you do remember I exist?"

His brow furrowed. "I just... Ava was closer..."

"James!" Abigail's screech cut through. "Why are you defending these worthless women? One has been dead weight on your brother since the day she married him! The other dares to destroy his favorite vase at his own funeral! I will not tolerate this!"

"Mother." James turned, exhaling heavily. "Ava isn't dead weight. She gave Benjamin a son-his legacy. And Wren, she didn't mean to-"

"I didn't break it! It was Ava who-"

"Enough, Wren." James's eyes flashed with irritation. "You've already caused enough embarrassment. Do you really want to keep making a scene at my brother's funeral? Go to your room. Stop making this harder than it already is."

I stared at my husband's face-so familiar, yet suddenly so foreign. How could he? After blatantly choosing Ava over me, he was now blaming me for her mistake?

Did Ava mean that much to him?

My eyes burned. The words that had been forming since last night finally spilled out.

"James Davis. I want a divorce."

WREN

Stunned silence filled the room the moment the words spilled out of me, which left nothing but a gutted feeling that gripped my insides in a torturing manner.

James stared at me in shock, his mouth gaping wide at my sudden words. Obviously, he hadn't expected me to be the one demanding a divorce. After all, in everyone's eyes, marrying into the Davis family had been my social climb.

My family had once been prominent, but after my parents died, I was nothing but a helpless orphan. Grandfather Arthur Davis had extended his hand, and because of him, I'd survived to adulthood.

I would never forget that debt. But even gratitude had its limits.

"What the fuck did you just say?" James's voice thundered, dripping with that familiar condescension, his nostrils flaring with indignation. "Because I shielded Ava from some tea, you want a divorce? That's fucking ridiculous."

"I'm ridiculous? You're quite good at twisting things, aren't you? Care to tell me nothing is going on with you and Ava?" My voice cut sharply and coldly. Her name tasted bitter on my tongue-toxic, nauseating.

James's eye twitched with fury. Before he could respond, Ava inserted herself.

"Wren, what are you implying? I understand you're afraid of Mother's anger, but you can't just fabricate accusations against James and me like this. Benjamin just passed away. How could you... God, Benjamin, I should have gone with you..."

She dissolved into quiet sobs. Little Liam wrapped his arms around her immediately, shooting me a look of pure hatred.

Just like that, I was cast as the villain, bullying a grieving widow and her child. Ava and her son became objects of universal sympathy.

Even Abigail's gaze softened slightly toward them-but toward me, her eyes held no mercy.

She marched straight up and slapped me across the face. Hard. In front of everyone.

This time, James didn't even pretend to move. A cold smile played at the corner of his lips.

"You useless bitch," Abigail spat. "I will not allow you to defile Benjamin's funeral like this. Now get the hell upstairs. Stop embarrassing us in front of our guests. Leave my son in peace."

I clutched my stinging cheek, watching James's faint smirk. For the first time, I truly saw it-how much my husband enjoyed watching me be humiliated. Before, he'd always explained that his mother's nature meant the more he defended me, the worse she'd get. Endure it, he'd told me. That was the best way.

But after seeing how he'd shielded Ava, I finally understood how hollow his words had been. He'd never defended me-not to protect me, but because he simply didn't give a damn.

God. How stupid had I been not to see it?

I wiped my tears and looked around the room. The Davis family's furious faces. The guests' whispers and pointing. And yet-strangely-I felt no more shame. Only release.

The shame was never mine to carry.

"All of you think I'm the disgrace here?" My voice dripped with scorn. "Just wait. When the Davis family's dirty secrets finally crawl into the sunlight, you'll see-I was the cleanest one among you."

"Wren, stop this madness! You must have hit your head harder than we thought!" James cut me off sharply, as if terrified of what I might reveal next.

I met his gaze coldly, all expectation drained from my eyes. "Afraid I'll expose your dirty little secret?"

Before I could finish, James barked orders at his driver to take me home. "Mrs. Davis is exhausted. Get her home to rest."

Together, they dragged me out of the hall. Not one person intervened.

Right before they shoved me into the car, James leaned in, his eyes dark with warning.

"Wren. I'll write today off as you losing your goddamn mind. But the divorce? Not another word."

***

I was practically dragged home and locked inside the master bedroom. No matter how hard I pounded on the door, the driver and servants refused to open it.

I collapsed to my knees, adrenaline still churning in my veins. My gaze landed on the marriage bed where we'd lain together for three years-where James had systematically eroded my self-worth until I felt like nothing more than a hollow vessel for his biological needs, not a woman deserving of pleasure or intimacy.

Again, I felt it-the profound humiliation this marriage had brought me. It hadn't started today. It had been three years of small degradations, each one eating away at me.

Tonight, I simply couldn't swallow anymore. So I'd exploded.

Hot tears streamed down my cheeks again. I didn't know how long I lay there on the floor, but the darkness creeping into the room told me night had fallen.

Then-for the first time since I'd been brought home-the door opened.

That familiar scent wafted in. The one that had clung to James these past months. Before I could even see him clearly, my nose caught it, rendering all my careful reasoning irrelevant, making me feel like an irrational, hysterical woman.

"I didn't expect you back so soon," I said flatly.

His hardened expression melted into that familiar, practiced softness he'd worn for years. He lowered himself onto the floor beside me.

"It was never like that, Wren. You-"

"Let me guess. I'm overthinking things again?"

James's eyes narrowed with what looked like an apology. He shook his head. "I know you've been under a lot of pressure lately. And you hit your head yesterday..."

"I'm not crazy, James!" I screamed, sitting up to face him. "I saw how you protected Ava! I saw the way you looked at her! I'm not stupid!"

His breath caught for a moment. He reached for me, but I twisted my shoulder away.

He sighed heavily, as if weighing his next words carefully. "Ava and I... we do have a history. Before she became Benjamin's wife, we were at university together. We dated."

My heart stopped. Why had no one ever told me this?

As if anticipating my confusion, James continued. "But we only dated. We realized we weren't right for each other and broke it off. Nothing inappropriate ever happened."

I watched him warily, waiting.

He wet his lips. "I didn't realize she'd become my sister-in-law until Benjamin's wedding. Benjamin and I were never close... so I never told anyone."

His voice dropped here, carrying something that might have been genuine guilt-or might have been calculated to win my sympathy.

"Regardless, Benjamin was my brother. I would never covet his wife. I just... now that Benjamin's gone, I feel responsible for looking after his widow and child. That's all."

Half his face disappeared into shadow. I couldn't tell whether to believe him.

He turned to me, his eyes gleaming with what looked like remorse. "I'm sorry you misunderstood, Wren."

His voice dropped low as he moved closer.

"Today was supposed to be our anniversary. We should be at that beach house right now, enjoying our holiday."

His gaze dropped to my lips. His intention was clear.

"Maybe Mother's right. We really should hurry up and produce an heir." His lips descended-

I turned away.

Heir.

The word cut through the fog like a blade.

"That's the real reason you're apologizing, isn't it?" I pulled back, disgust flickering across my face. "Your mother's been putting pressure on you again."

A crack formed in James's carefully maintained mask of tenderness.

"Why do you have to make everything so complicated, Wren? I've had a hell of a day. What's wrong with wanting to be close to my wife?"

"Wife?" My voice rose, cracking with emotion. "Do you actually see me as your wife?"

I paused, the weight of the day crashing down on me.

"Forget it, James. I'm tired. Let's talk another time."

I started to rise-

James's hand shot out, yanking me back down onto the carpet.

"I've tolerated enough from you today, Wren." He wrenched at my buttons, rough, no tenderness left. "You're my wife. When your husband needs you, you fucking give."

His movements were brutal, careless-he didn't care if he hurt me. I struggled, but he pinned my wrists above my head. Every kiss he forced on me made my stomach lurch. I kicked, thrashed, but couldn't shake him.

Just when I thought there was no escaping tonight-

A loud crash echoed from somewhere in the house.

James froze for a split second.

I seized it. Shoved him off. Scrambled on hands and knees toward the door, fleeing that suffocating room.

I made it downstairs, gasping-

And stopped dead.

Two unexpected figures stood in the entrance hall.

Ava. And Liam.

What the hell were they doing at our house?