When The Unwanted Bride Becomes The Most Pampered Heiress

As the officiant's jubilant words rang out, "Mr. Bryson Hardy, you may now kiss your bride," Marissa Fletcher, adorned in her bridal gown, flung open the doors of the chapel, only to be struck by the sight of her fiancé locking lips with her adopted sister.

This was meant to be the day Marissa and Bryson exchanged vows.

Years prior, the Fletcher and Hardy families had forged a betrothal pact. Bryson, raised overseas by the Hardy family, had lost his sight and hearing in a tragic mishap. Upon his return, it was Marissa who devotedly tended to him, guiding him through his recovery.

He had vowed to give her a splendid wedding once he was completely recovered.

Though Marissa was absent on the day he regained his health, Bryson kept his promise, discussing with the Fletchers and planning their wedding.

Yet, in a hall brimming with guests, Marissa was not the one standing as the bride.

How could this betrayal unfold?

"Hold on!" Marissa's voice sliced through the murmurs, capturing every gaze.

The officiant faltered, stuttering, "Why... is there another woman in a wedding dress?"

Undeterred by the sea of curious eyes, Marissa hoisted her gown and marched toward Bryson. "Bryson, I'm the one you're meant to wed, not Evelina!"

Bryson's expression hardened. "Marissa, what nonsense are you talking about?"

"Marissa." Evelina Fletcher's voice quivered, her face ashen. "I know you've always resented me, but today is my wedding to Bryson. Please, wish us well."

"Evelina, don't fear her," Bryson said, stepping protectively in front of her, his eyes cold as they met Marissa's. "Marissa, you're aware of my condition. Evelina cared for me in my darkest time. In honor of our families' old engagement, I've decided to marry her. She's also a Fletcher daughter, after all."

"Cared for you? I'm the one who nursed you back to health!" Marissa cut in, incredulous. "Are you out of your mind? When was Evelina ever betrothed to you? She is just an adopted daughter!"

"That's enough!" Susanna Fletcher, Marissa's mother, stormed forward, her hand striking Marissa's cheek with a sharp slap. "Evelina is our true daughter. You've stolen her life, and now you dare cause a scene?"

Marissa clutched her burning face, staring at her mother in disbelief. "Mom, what are you saying? How could Evelina be..."

Her words trailed off as painful memories washed over her.

Though raised as a Fletcher, Marissa had been denied the warmth of her parents. She treaded carefully, offering respect to her stern parents, never daring to get too comfortable at home.

Her mind drifted back to the day she first met Evelina-it was at a crowded train station.

Evelina was quarreling with a man, accusing him of betraying her after they had moved to the city.

When the man grew violent, Marissa instinctively intervened. Instead of gratitude, she found Evelina clutching her arm desperately, pleading for a chance to work in exchange for food.

Pressed for time and overwhelmed by her own packed schedule, Marissa reluctantly took her home.

Not long after, her mother cheerfully announced that Evelina had been adopted into their family.

From that moment, Evelina became the center of attention, the darling of the Fletcher household, while Marissa was quietly sidelined.

Evelina's shy and fragile demeanor only deepened their parents' affection. They even dismissed the maid and took up cooking themselves, despite their utter lack of talent. Somehow, this duty fell to Marissa.

Evelina soaked up the affection Marissa never received and freely tapped into the Fletcher family's wealth.

She effortlessly gained admission to the elite university Marissa had toiled to enter and mingled at gatherings using Marissa's hard-won social ties.

Such moments were endless.

In her innocence, Marissa once believed that by giving in to Evelina and tending to her needs, she might win her parents' affection.

Now, the harsh reality unfolded before her. Her tireless efforts never earned their love because she was not their true daughter.

How ridiculous it all seemed!

"Marissa, I'm so sorry," Evelina said, her eyes brimming with tears, her voice trembling with feigned remorse. "It's my fault, but you've had my parents all these years. Bryson and I... we're truly in love. If you're hurt, I..."

Marissa gazed at the seemingly innocent woman, a wry smile on her lips. "If I'm hurt, what then? Will you step aside and let me marry Bryson?"

Her words carried a heavy edge, which Evelina took as bitterness.

"You!" Evelina's face briefly contorted before she restrained herself, glancing at her beloved. Her tone, stripped of its usual softness, turned sharp. "Marissa, get this straight-he is my fiancé, not yours! You don't even belong in this family."

"So Marissa wasn't even their real daughter? Evelina's the real Fletcher?"

"Marissa is shameless, taking Evelina's place and now trying to snatch her man!"

The guests' murmurs swirled around Marissa.

Her face grew somber as she turned to Susanna, her voice faltering. "Mom, am I truly not your daughter?"

Susanna's expression twisted with disdain, her words cutting like a blade. "You two were switched at birth. If your despicable parents hadn't sold Evelina and let you steal her place, she wouldn't have endured such suffering all these years!"

A crushing wave of anguish overwhelmed Marissa, rooting her to the spot.

"I wanted you to witness Evelina's happiness before quietly leaving," Susanna sneered, her demeanor arrogant. "But since you're so ungrateful, you are no longer welcome here. And just so you know, your destitute parents have found you a husband; he's waiting outside."

Marissa was stunned. Her real parents had found her a husband?

She clenched her fists tightly, a cold dread seeping into her chest as the realization dawned.

Had her parents, whom she had never met, already started plotting her future behind her back?

"Marissa, try not to worry too much-living in the rural area isn't nearly as tough as it might seem. With diligent effort, you will manage to get by, plus you'll have affectionate parents watching over you. Your life will be so much better than mine was. I was forced to plead for mercy from those human smugglers..." Evelina murmured, her gaze lowered while tears trickled down, stirring feelings of pity in observers.

"My poor daughter," Susanna sobbed, embracing Evelina closely, her eyes shooting daggers of fury toward Marissa. "Get out of here right this instant, Marissa! I can't stand the sight of you!"

Marissa tightened her lips before addressing Bryson with measured emphasis, "Mr. Hardy, even if Evelina is the real daughter of the Fletcher family, you are mistaken about one thing: it was I who nursed you back to health."

Bryson scowled in revulsion. "Although I lacked sight and hearing previously, my remaining perceptions were acute. I remembered that the woman who cared for me had a mark on the back of her left hand, identical to Evelina's. How on earth could I confuse that? Marissa, you've enjoyed a life of opulence within the Fletcher household-how would someone like you acquire such a scar? You can't fool me. Kindly cease this nonsense."

Marissa let out a wry chuckle.

She lifted her left arm and stripped away the glove, displaying an unblemished hand.

There was meant to be a mark there. It stemmed from an accident when she first attempted cooking and mishandled the stove, resulting in a significant burn scar. Susanna had insisted she keep it as a lesson, and Marissa typically concealed it with a glove for aesthetic reasons.

However, during her time tending to Bryson and administering treatments, she never wore the glove.

For this wedding ceremony, symbolizing a farewell to her former life, Marissa had at last eradicated that scar from her skin.

Yet, she never foresaw it would deprive her of the opportunity to validate her actions.

Bryson eyed her revealed hand with a mocking smirk, then seized Evelina's left hand, yanking off her glove against her protests, exposing a grotesque scar.

The lesion appeared inflamed, oozing with fluid and blisters, presenting a repellent sight.

It was a fresh thermal injury, not an old burn, destined to heal and fade within days.

Marissa's attention shifted to Susanna, who averted her face in discomfort.

Susanna's tone wavered as she declared, "Evelina's scar can be corrected through plastic surgery in the future. She ought not to bear any disfigurements."

Marissa erupted in derisive laughter.

The truth became crystal clear.

Susanna was aware that Marissa had attended to Bryson, yet she deliberately attributed the merit to Evelina.

Marissa cast a final glance at the individuals she had once regarded as family and beloved.

There was Evelina's triumphant gleam, Susanna's look of repulsion, her husband Phil Fletcher's feigned helplessness, and Bryson's irritation...

Marissa realized she was a bigger fool than Bryson.

She pivoted and descended the steps, observing that her bridal gown's edge dragged excessively. Without hesitation, she ripped it decisively, hiking the cumbersome skirt up to her knees.

Displaying an impassive face, Marissa exited the hall, resolute in her resolve.

Given that the Fletcher family had never truly accepted her, and Bryson firmly believed Evelina to be his savior, then every advantage and initiative she had facilitated for both the Fletcher and Hardy families would be revoked.

Susanna observed Marissa's departure, her forehead creased in contempt. "After all the effort we invested in nurturing her, she proves utterly ungrateful. She is incomparable to Evelina!"

As Marissa proceeded out of the venue, murmurs trailed her, but she paid them no heed, advancing directly to the front gate.

The primary doorway stood vacant, save for the security guard engaged in a call. "I've already explained, entry isn't open to just anybody. This is a premium matrimonial site. Quit bothering me!"

After disconnecting, the guard spotted Marissa and remarked scornfully, "Aren't you the impostor from the Fletcher family? Your real parents just reached out, instructing that you remain here for a pickup. I'm confused about why they're asking if there's ample parking room. How massive could their vehicle be? Are they showing up in some rickety truck?"

Just as the guard concluded, a sleek black elongated Lincoln screeched to a halt directly before Marissa.

The car window slid down with a quiet hum, revealing a man whose features were so perfectly defined they almost seemed unreal.

Marissa froze-it was Theodore Brooks, the current head of the Brooks family.

The Brooks family was not just influential-it was one of the most powerful families in the region, their reach extending across industries and politics. For someone of his stature, who was constantly buried in high-level affairs, to appear here in person was almost unimaginable.

"Get in."

His voice was smooth and pleasant, yet completely devoid of warmth-a tone that carried authority rather than invitation.

The car door clicked open from the inside.

Marissa blinked, thinking she must have misheard him. She instinctively pushed the door shut again and forced a polite smile. "Thank you, but I'm waiting for someone."

A brief flash of surprise crossed Theodore's otherwise expressionless face. His eyes lingered on her composed expression before he replied flatly, "I'm the one you're waiting for."

When Marissa still didn't move, he reached into the seat beside him, picked up a document, and extended it toward her. His brows knit slightly, his tone remaining detached. "Take a look."

Her gaze lingered on his face for a moment before she finally accepted the document.

She had always disliked the artificial scent of cologne on men, yet the faint cedarwood fragrance he wore was unexpectedly calming-clean, understated, and oddly magnetic.

Almost without realizing it, Marissa opened the door and slid into the seat beside him.

The interior was refined and luxurious, its quiet elegance matching its owner perfectly. As the car moved, Marissa stared down at the report in her hands-her eyes scanning the pages again and again. A DNA test.

Her throat tightened. It turned out she was the real daughter of the Curtis family!

The Curtis family was renowned across Ariolens for their vast fortune and humanitarian work. They owned Corelight Pharma, the nation's largest pharmaceutical company, and had built countless charitable foundations. They were also always the first to offer help in any crisis. They were a name synonymous with power and generosity.

In comparison, the Fletcher family, who had raised her, was insignificant.

And yet, they had sneered at her, insisting her biological parents were from the slums.

The irony almost made Marissa laugh aloud.

Her lashes trembled slightly as she lowered her head, her slim fingers tapping lightly against the document. After a long pause, she finally asked, her voice calm but edged with amusement, "So... are you the husband my real parents arranged for me?" A hint of mischief played in her tone, as though she found the entire situation absurd.

If the Fletchers ever discovered that the supposedly "lowly" parents they mocked had arranged for her to marry the powerful Theodore, they would probably lose their minds.

Her casual, almost teasing attitude rubbed Theodore the wrong way.

He turned his head, studying her closely. She sat there with her chin resting on her hand, the sunlight filtering through the window and dancing in her eyes, turning them into pools of quiet defiance. Something about her didn't match the calm, docile image he had been led to expect from her file.

After a moment, his voice dropped a few degrees colder. "Are you dissatisfied with me?"