The Ugly Wife Went Viral

I, Serena Sterling, was infamous in our social circle for being ugly.

Heavy bangs that hid my eyes, a face scattered with freckles, and clothes that never quite fit right made me unpleasant to look at.

And yet, somehow, this very appearance caught Adrian Blackwood's attention.

Even under pressure from his family, even as people mocked him for having a "taste for the ugly," he still insisted on marrying me.

In the three years that followed, he spoiled me into becoming the most envied wife in our circle.

I thought it was real love-the kind that saw past appearances and reached the soul.

Until the day I stumbled upon ninety-nine love letters in his study-and a trust document bearing another woman's name.

Only then did I realize that all his devotion had been nothing but a lie-one that turned me into a shield for the woman he truly loved.

He had never loved me.

Now that he had secured his position in the Blackwood family, he was finally free to be with her.

I didn't argue. I handed him the divorce papers, wiped away the disguise that had made me "ugly," and disappeared from his life.

......

I sat in the study, my whole body still trembling.

Until today, I had truly believed I'd found a love that went beyond appearances and reached the soul.

That belief shattered the moment I found the unlocked file sitting in front of me.

Ninety-nine letters. Every word filled with devotion.

Every single one began the same way. "To my dearest Vivian Mercer."

In them, Adrian confessed his guilt for not being able to give her a stable life, his regret over marrying someone else just to protect her, and his longing for the day he would fully control the Blackwood family and finally be with her.

Every word cut into me like a blade.

Only then did it hit me-his heart had always belonged to someone else.

Marrying me had never been about love. I was just a convenient shield against the open and hidden attacks within his family.

All the humiliation, the threats, the kidnapping, the fear I endured-none of it was meant for me. I had been taking the hit for another woman.

The other document was a notarized trust agreement, listing every asset Adrian owned-real estate, shares, cash-line after line.

Every beneficiary name was the same. Vivian.

The date on it was three years ago-the day before our wedding.

That same day, I had signed a document as well.

Mine was a prenuptial agreement stating clearly that I had no claim to any of the Blackwood family's assets.

Back then, Adrian had told me the family was too complicated, that he didn't want me dragged into it.

And I believed him.

I'd even thought it was considerate of him.

The next page was a pregnancy report.

The name on it was still Vivian. The date-last week.

A chill spread through me. I remembered how, early in our marriage, Adrian had repeatedly said he didn't like children.

For three years, I had been careful every single time, making sure I never got pregnant.

It turned out, he didn't hate children. He just didn't want one with me.

I clutched the report as waves of pain twisted through my chest.

Back then, I had resented my father for interfering in my marriage. I wanted love on my own terms, so I ran away from home and deliberately made myself look unattractive.

Because of that, I was judged, rejected-discriminated against even at work.

I refused to give up, so I stayed up night after night, sketching designs, trying to prove myself through my work.

But the designs I worked so hard on were taken by my supervisor to impress his lover-and then he turned around and accused me of plagiarism.

I argued my case, only to be dismissed as a troublemaker-just because I was ugly.

At my most desperate moment, Adrian showed up. He pulled the surveillance footage and restored my draft files.

A man like him-a CEO buried in endless work-had stepped in personally to clear my name and return the credit that was rightfully mine.

It was the first time since I left home that I saw genuine admiration in someone's eyes.

I fell for him, completely and helplessly.

The day he proposed, I said yes without a second thought.

For three years, Adrian built me a perfect little utopia.

He took me to gatherings with his friends. When they looked me over with barely concealed mockery, he would lace his fingers through mine and say, "My wife is priceless."

When I stayed up late working on designs, he would walk into the study, set down a cup of warm milk, and stay with me until dawn.

When a difficult client called me a country bumpkin, he canceled the contract on the spot-even if it meant paying a hefty penalty-just to stand up for me.

"Money can be earned again. But you don't deserve to be treated like that."

And I believed him.

I thought I had finally found real love-a man who saw past appearances and loved the soul beneath.

Until those ninety-nine letters and that trust tore the illusion apart and showed me what that "love" really was.

I picked up my phone and dialed a number I hadn't touched in three years.

"Look into Adrian. And Vivian. I want everything."

Waiting for the truth felt like being slowly carved apart.

Memories from the past three years kept replaying in my mind.

He had stood up for me and offended several members in the Blackwood family. After that, I became their target-followed when I went out, my car tampered with, more than once coming close to losing my life.

I thought that was the price I had to pay for love.

But it had all been part of his calculation.

The email came quickly. The attachments were thorough.

The infighting within the Blackwood family was brutal. Adrian's uncles had all been searching for his weakness.

So he hid Vivian in the shadows-and pushed me, the ugly and easy-to-control wife, into the spotlight.

As "Mrs. Blackwood," I took every open attack, every scheme, every insult meant for her.

Meanwhile, Vivian stayed safe under his protection-carrying his child.

So it wasn't that he was noble enough to overlook my appearance. It was that my ugliness was exactly what he needed.

Those three years of marriage-from beginning to end-had been nothing but a carefully crafted lie.

I turned off my phone and sat in the dark for a long, long time.

Only when my body had gone stiff did I finally stand and walk to the mirror.

I looked at the unfamiliar, ugly face staring back at me-and suddenly, I smiled.

The smile lingered... until tears began to fall.

He had spent the past three years putting on an act. It must have been exhausting.

I would set him free.

The next day, Adrian wrapped his arms around me from behind, just as he always did, resting his chin on the top of my head.

"Today is our third wedding anniversary. I cleared my entire schedule so I could spend the day with you."

His voice was as gentle as ever.

Without changing my expression, I eased him away from me, but I didn't refuse.

I had already asked a lawyer to draft the divorce papers.

This would be the last anniversary we ever spent together. I might as well treat it like one final meal before the end.

And before I left, I didn't want any unnecessary complications.

That evening, I walked into the auction hall with my arm linked through Adrian's.

I still wore the same heavy bangs hiding my eyes, the freckles painted across my face, and a dark dress that didn't fit properly. Standing beside Adrian, polished and commanding as ever, I looked like a shabby country girl who didn't belong there.

The looks cast my way by the socialites around us were openly scornful and mocking.

As always, Adrian clasped my hand tightly and murmured, "Don't mind them. You're my wife."

Before yesterday, that would have moved me beyond words.

Now, all it did was make me sick.

Who was this loving performance really for?

Was it meant as compensation for the tool he had used? Or was it meant to keep me docile, so I would stay obediently by his side and go on serving as a shield for him and Vivian?

Keeping my face blank, I flipped through the auction catalog until my eyes landed on a blue diamond brooch called "Heart of the Deep".

The designer had drawn inspiration from a shipwreck. It was meant to symbolize a love forgotten at the bottom of the sea.

"I want that one," I said.

The opening bid was 20 million dollars.

Without the slightest hesitation, Adrian lifted his paddle.

"30 million."

"40 million."

The price kept climbing.

The wealthy women around us leaned toward one another, whispering with poorly hidden envy.

"Mr. Blackwood really knows how to spend."

"Looking like that and still being spoiled this much... she really is lucky."

"He married her despite everyone's objections. That has to be true love."

The bidding was closing in on 60 million dollars, and no one else in the room followed. The auctioneer raised the hammer, ready to bring it down.

Then a clear female voice rang out from the back.

"80 million."

The entire room erupted.

Countless heads turned at once, all eyes locking onto the woman in the white dress. She wore no visible makeup, yet she was breathtakingly beautiful all the same.

The moment I saw her face, my whole body went rigid.

It was Vivian.

What was she doing here?

Hadn't Adrian kept her hidden away, never letting her appear in public?

If she could step openly into the spotlight now, did that mean even my last bit of value as his shield was gone?

Whispers rose all around me.

"Who is that? She's actually daring to bid against Mrs. Blackwood?"

"I've never seen her before. Which family is she from?"

"She's got nerve. Mr. Blackwood is famous for protecting his own. If she's crossed him, she's in trouble."

Everyone was waiting for Adrian to lose his temper and crush her with an even higher bid.

I stared at Adrian too. At least on the surface, I was still his wife...

But Adrian calmly set his paddle down.

Leaning closer, he explained in that same gentle voice, "Serena, this brooch is too elaborate. It doesn't really suit you. There's a ruby set coming up later. It'll flatter your complexion much better."

My grip tightened around the auction catalog, a bitter weight settling in my chest.

Of course. The moment Vivian appeared, I already knew that brooch would never be mine.

How ridiculous that I had still let myself hope.

The second Adrian lowered his paddle, Vivian smiled with open satisfaction. She lifted a familiar black card in her hand and signaled for the auctioneer to charge it.

After a stunned silence fell over the room, quiet snickers began to spread.

No one dared laugh outright, but their expressions said it plainly enough. Even Adrian's devotion, apparently, had its limits.

I looked at that tender, affectionate face of his, and bile rose in my throat. He really had gone to great lengths. His performance was flawless.

I said nothing, my gaze shifting between Adrian and Vivian.

Though they were seated more than a dozen rows apart, their eyes met all the same.

One was restrained, holding himself back. The other wore the spoiled confidence of someone dearly cherished.

The auction came to an end.

In the reception area, Vivian approached us directly, a glass of champagne in her hand.

"Mrs. Blackwood, I'm so sorry. I hate to take something you wanted." She gave the velvet box in her hand a little shake, her voice sweet and delicate. "But my husband adores me. He says if I like something, I can buy it without a second thought. A woman should be spoiled a little, don't you think?"

With such open provocation, everyone assumed Adrian would finally lose his temper. After all, he was famous for doting on his wife.

They were all waiting to see Adrian throw this reckless girl out.

And yet Adrian only frowned and warned her, "That's enough."

Then he put an arm around me, as if intending to leave with me.

So he really did love her that much. He couldn't even bring himself to pretend to be harsh with her.

But I had no intention of letting him have his way.

I turned and stopped, meeting Vivian's smug gaze. "It is beautiful," I said softly. "But..."

In one swift motion, I snatched the box from her hands and took out the blue diamond brooch.

The perfectly cut stone threw off blinding flashes beneath the crystal lights.

Then I let go.

The outrageously expensive blue diamond struck the marble floor, split cleanly down the middle, and lost all its brilliance.

Sharp gasps rippled through the room.

"Oh no, how clumsy of me." I dusted off my hands, glanced at the shattered diamond on the floor, then at Vivian's bloodless face. "The quality's not all that impressive, is it? Eighty million dollars for something this fragile? What a waste. But I'm sure your husband adores you enough to buy you another one, Miss Mercer, right? It's not like swiping the card hurts."

Vivian trembled with rage.

Adrian stepped forward and snapped at me under his breath, "Serena, stop this. If you damage someone else's property, you pay for it."

Pay for it? Using money from his primary card to cover a purchase made on his secondary one?

I ignored him and turned to walk out.

"Serena, stop right there!" Still unwilling to let it go, Vivian chased after me and blocked my path in the hallway.

"Who the hell do you think you are? Do you even know who I am?" she shouted, jabbing a finger in my face.

"A hidden little mistress, isn't that all?" I said evenly.

She looked surprised for a moment, then sneered. "So you know about me and Adrian? And you still dare act up in front of me? You're nothing but an ugly, stupid stand-in."

A stand-in. Those words drove straight into my chest.

Seeing the color drain from my face only made her more smug. "You think Adrian actually loves you? Dream on. You're just a shield. Even touching you disgusts him."

That was the sentence that finally set off all the rage I had been suppressing.

I raised my hand and slapped her across the face. With a cold laugh, I said, "Stand-in or not, I've still been publicly acknowledged as Mrs. Blackwood for three years. And you? You've never even been acknowledged in public at all, have you?"

"Serena, you slapped me?"

Vivian was stunned by the blow. When she finally came to herself, she lunged at me like a madwoman.

In the middle of the struggle, neither of us noticed the black sedan out of control in the distance, barreling straight toward us.

"Watch out!" a man's voice shouted from behind us, tight with panic.

We whipped around, only to find the car already almost on us.

The fear of death swallowed me whole in an instant.

And in that split second, I saw Adrian running toward us.

Without the slightest hesitation, he threw himself toward Vivian, wrapped his body around hers, and dragged her out of the way.

And I was hit full-on by the car and thrown onto the freezing pavement.

Agonizing pain tore through my leg, but I barely felt it.

I only stared into the distance, where Adrian was frantically checking Vivian over, asking again and again, "Vivian, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?"

He never even turned around to look at me.

In that moment, whatever love I had left, whatever pathetic hope I had still been clinging to, was crushed to pieces and vanished completely.

The sharp smell of disinfectant filled my nose, and I opened my eyes.

My leg was encased in plaster and suspended in the air. Even the slightest movement sent a piercing pain shooting through me.

The hospital room was empty.

When the nurse came in to change my dressing, she mentioned in passing that Adrian was downstairs with Vivian while she underwent a full round of examinations.

I stared at the harsh ceiling light until my eyes felt dry and sore.

After what felt like forever, the door to the room was pushed open.

It was Vivian.

A few rough-looking men trailed in behind her.

"Serena, you're harder to kill than I thought." Vivian walked up to the bed, folding her arms as she looked me over.

"Get out," I said, not even bothering to look at her.

"Still talking tough, I see." She let out a soft scoff and tilted her head toward the men behind her. "Teach Mrs. Blackwood some manners."

One of the men stepped forward at once and raised his hand to slap me across the face.

I jerked my head aside, and his hand came down hard against the pillow instead.

"Oh? You've still got the nerve to dodge?" the man sneered as he reached for my hair.

Another man, his arms covered in tattoos, stepped up and grabbed at the collar of my hospital gown.

"Ugly face, decent body. Whatever, we'll make an exception today."

I struggled with everything I had, but the cast on my leg left me nowhere to retreat.

Vivian stood off to the side with her arms crossed, calmly enjoying my humiliation.

In my desperation, my hand fumbled blindly across the bedside table until it found something cold and solid.

It was a glass vase.

With every bit of strength I had left, I grabbed the vase and brought it down hard on the head of the man who was tearing at my clothes.

The man screamed, clutched his head, and collapsed, blood streaming through his fingers.

At that exact moment, the hospital room door was shoved open.

Adrian stood in the doorway, his gaze sweeping across the chaos in the room, the thug on the floor howling with his hands over his head, before finally settling on the disheveled front of my gown.

"Adrian!" Vivian reacted instantly. Her eyes reddened as she threw herself into his arms. "I just came to check on Serena out of kindness, but the second she saw me, she completely lost it and started attacking people. It was like she'd rehearsed the whole thing..."

Adrian's eyes passed over the bleeding man on the floor before returning to me.

"Serena, how did you become like this?" His voice was slow, heavy with exhaustion. "I only went with Miss Mercer to have a few scrapes treated, and you hired these men to stage this whole act?"

He actually thought I was putting on an act?

My eyes reddened in shock.

A man as sharp and intelligent as he was could have seen the truth with the slightest thought. But when it came to Vivian, he didn't question a thing. Whatever she said, he believed.

Even though I had already seen through his hypocrisy, even though I had accepted that his heart belonged to someone else, the nakedness of that favoritism still left me aching with hurt and humiliation.

When I didn't speak, Adrian's voice dropped lower. "Serena, are you resenting me because of the accident? It was chaos back then. I just got the wrong person."

The wrong person?

And even the name... was that wrong too?

A laugh escaped me, even as tears spilled uncontrollably down my face.

"Adrian, were you blind when you chose who to save, and are you still blind now? Did you not see what they were trying to do to me?"

"Enough." He frowned, disappointment heavy in his voice. "There's evidence and witnesses. You've gone too far this time. I can't keep covering for you. Intentional assault isn't something I can overlook. Spend a few days inside and calm down."

He turned to his assistant and told him to call the police. He never looked at me again before walking away.

Vivian glanced back at me, her gaze full of provocation, as if to say I had it coming.

The police arrived quickly.

Charged with assault, I was taken away on the spot and locked in detention.

Three days. Seventy-two hours.

The room was dark and damp, thick with the stench of sweat and urine.

The other women in the cell took one look at my hospital gown and lit up with excitement.

They grabbed my hair and shoved my face into the reeking toilet, laughing as they mocked my appearance.

"Heard your own man was the one who sent you in here?"

"Looking like that? Not surprising."

Blows rained down on me. New wounds layered over old ones. The cast on my leg cracked, and the injury beneath grew inflamed and infected.

A fever burned through me, my body scorching hot, yet I didn't shed a single tear or beg for mercy.

Between each beating, I kept replaying those three years of marriage to Adrian, over and over again.

He had once taken drinks meant for me at banquets, clumsily cooked porridge for me late at night, whispered that I was the best in his eyes...

Now, every memory had turned into the cruelest kind of mockery.

My love for him, along with my dignity, was ground into dust over those three days-crushed beyond recognition.

The day I walked out of detention, the sunlight was blinding.

I saw Adrian's car parked not far away.

I didn't go to him.

Instead, I took out my phone and called him.

"Adrian," I heard my own voice, hoarse and strained, "let's get divorced."

There was a brief silence on the other end before his voice came through, edged with anger. "Serena, are you done causing trouble?"

"I'm not causing trouble." I said calmly, "I'll have my lawyer send you the divorce papers."

Then I hung up.

I didn't know when Adrian planned to come clean, but I was done playing along.

If he refused to sign, I would take it to court.

But after hearing me out, the lawyer hesitated. "Mrs. Blackwood, you know better than I do how much influence Mr. Blackwood has in Kingsport. Taking him to court... there's no chance of winning."

I stood there, stunned.

So in this game, I didn't even have the right to say it was over.

I stood at the crossroads, watching traffic stream past, and felt utterly trapped.

In the end, I pulled up a number I had thought I would never call again.

The call connected quickly, and an aged yet authoritative voice came through. "Serena?"

"Dad..." I closed my eyes, and at last, the tears fell. "I was wrong. I want to come home."

"Alright." There wasn't a trace of hesitation in his voice. "Wait for me. Three days. I'll come and bring you home."