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The Idiot Heir's Bride: A Sweet Revenge Romance

The Idiot Heir's Bride: A Sweet Revenge Romance

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[Fluff] [Refreshing] [One-on-One] [Extra Sweet] [Pure-hearted] It started with her sister's ruthless scheme, leading Charlotte into an unthinkable scandal: a night spent with a stranger on the eve of her wedding. By morning, reporters surrounded her, cameras flashing, while her sister appeared, hand-in-hand with her fiancé, feigning innocence but clearly triumphant. Charlotte's heart burned with anger, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she laughed coldly and dropped a bombshell: “I'd like to announce that Ethan Vaughan, the man beside me, is my fiancé. I look forward to your blessings.” The crowd gasped. Ethan Vaughan—the eldest son of the wealthy Vaughan family—was infamous as “the fool,” a man dismissed as simple-minded. But as Charlotte held her head high, she swore she wouldn’t let her sister win. After the rushed wedding, Charlotte braced for a lonely, loveless life. But Ethan wasn't what the rumors had made him out to be. Instead of the clueless man people pitied, he was oddly considerate, even sharp, with a warmth that caught her off guard. And then there was that glint in his eyes—a quiet confidence that didn’t fit the role of a so-called fool.
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"Ugh..."

Charlotte groaned as she slowly opened her eyes, only to be met with a throbbing headache that felt like a jackhammer pounding inside her skull. Her body ached all over, as if she'd been steamrolled by a massive truck and left to deal with the aftermath. Disjointed flashes of memories darted through her mind, blurry and chaotic, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle she couldn’t quite fit together.

Yesterday had been the highlight of her single life—her golden bachelorette party! In less than twenty-four hours, she was supposed to walk down the aisle and marry her childhood sweetheart, Benjamin, the man she'd envisioned a future with since they were kids. Determined to make the most of her last night as a free woman, she’d gone all out with her girlfriends. The plan was to have fun, let loose, and maybe laugh about it all years down the line.

Only...

Her eyes darted around the unfamiliar room, panic creeping in like a cold draft. This wasn’t the luxurious hotel suite she had booked for the night. No, this place was entirely different. The vibe was... odd. No, scratch that—it was downright bizarre. The furniture had a sleazy kind of opulence to it, the kind you'd expect from a place catering to more risqué tastes. And there, right on the floor, was something that could only be described as a ridiculously skimpy bunny costume, complete with fishnet stockings and a pair of floppy ears.

"What the hell happened last night?" she mumbled, her voice raspy from either too much drinking or too much screaming—or maybe both. She tried to sit up, the silky quilt sliding off her shoulders, and that’s when she felt it: a cool draft against her skin, a damning reminder that she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing.

Before she could process the implications, the door burst open with a deafening bang! The sound reverberated through the room like a gunshot, and before she could even flinch, a blinding storm of camera flashes assaulted her eyes. The sudden onslaught of noise followed almost immediately, a barrage of sharp, merciless questions from reporters who had clearly been lying in wait.

“Miss Harrison! Your wedding to Mr. Benjamin Wilson is scheduled for today. How do you feel about being caught in bed with a stranger on the morning of your big day?”

“Is this scandal going to destroy the decade-long partnership between the Harrison Corporation and the Wilson Group? Sources say this relationship has been the backbone of both families’ success!”

“Miss Harrison! Have you thought about how Benjamin will react to this betrayal? Childhood sweetheart or not, this is a pretty hard pill to swallow, isn’t it?”

And then, cutting through the cacophony like a knife, came the voice Charlotte recognized all too well—a voice that sent a shiver down her spine.

“See? I told you she was here.”

Amelia.

Charlotte’s younger half-sister stepped into view, her delicate hand wrapped tightly around Benjamin’s arm. Her expression was the perfect balance of mock concern and quiet satisfaction, her eyes practically sparkling with schadenfreude.

“Sister,” Amelia said with an exaggerated sigh, tilting her head as though she were the victim in all of this, “how could you do something so... unforgivable? Today of all days, on your wedding day, no less. How do you plan to face either of our families after this?”

Benjamin stood silently beside her, but his posture was tense, his jaw clenched tightly as if he were holding back a tidal wave of emotion. When he finally spoke, his voice was cold, his words sharper than broken glass.

“Lottie, I didn’t want to believe it when Amelia told me, but now... how could you? After everything we’ve been through, after all these years, I never thought you’d betray me like this.”

Charlotte’s gaze zeroed in on their joined hands, her fury barely concealed behind the calm exterior she forced herself to maintain. “So, that’s why you let her cling to your arm like a lost puppy?” she shot back, her voice laced with icy contempt. Her eyes locked with Benjamin’s, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. “I told you once before, didn’t I? I told you the one thing I could never forgive. And yet here you are, pretending as though my words meant nothing, as though they were whispers lost to the wind.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning, as the scene descended into a tense, electric silence.

“Stop yelling at Ben, sis!” Amelia practically threw herself in front of Benjamin like a human shield, her arms spread wide and her big, watery eyes glistening with unshed tears. She looked every bit the tragic heroine, her voice trembling with just the right amount of indignation to paint Charlotte as the villain in this sordid scene. “Just because Ben loves you unconditionally doesn’t mean you can walk all over him. You’re the one in the wrong here!”

“Benjamin, I’m talking to you!” Charlotte’s fingers dug into the quilt, her chest heaving as her anger boiled over. Her gaze was sharp, cutting through Amelia’s theatrics like a blade. “Have you suddenly gone deaf, or did you lose your tongue? Do you need Amelia to speak for you now? Is she your new mouthpiece?”

“Charlotte.” Benjamin finally broke his silence, his voice low and tight with barely contained fury. His hands clenched at his sides as he took a step closer, glaring down at her. “Look at yourself—look at what you’ve done. There’s another man lying in your bed, and yet you have the audacity to turn this around on me?”

“What did you just say?” Charlotte’s voice cracked, disbelief lacing every word as if his accusation had physically struck her. Her eyes locked onto his, wide and brimming with hurt. “You’re calling me disgraceful? Me?”

“Am I wrong?” Benjamin shot back, his frustration spilling out in waves now. His patience, already worn thin, had completely unraveled. “You think you’re so high and mighty, always demanding answers, never showing an ounce of humility. Can you honestly look me in the eye and say there’s no one else here? Huh? Go ahead—say it.”

“Of course there’s no one!” Charlotte instinctively reached out to gesture emphatically—only to freeze mid-motion. Her hand had landed on something warm. Something solid. Something undeniably male.

Her breath hitched, and her voice faltered as the realization dawned on her. “I… wait a second…” she stammered, the words barely making it past her lips.

The reporters’ cameras kept flashing, their voices blaring a cacophony of questions. Benjamin’s face twisted further in rage, and Amelia’s smug grin was all but hidden beneath her mask of faux innocence. Charlotte, however, ignored them all. Slowly, almost fearfully, she lifted the edge of the quilt and peeked underneath.

What she found made her heart skip a beat.

There, lying sprawled beneath the quilt, was a man—an absurdly handsome one at that. His tousled hair framed a face so perfect it looked like it had been sculpted by the gods themselves. His thick brows arched lazily, his lashes long enough to cast shadows on his cheekbones. And his eyes—oh, those eyes—clear and bright like morning dew, they seemed to hold secrets that could leave anyone breathless.

“Are we playing hide and seek now, sis?” The man’s voice, rich and teasing, pulled her out of her trance.

Before she could react, he threw the quilt off his side and sat up, revealing his bare chest—and a sleek black collar fastened snugly around his neck.

“Oh my God!” Amelia gasped, dramatically covering her face with her hands but clearly peeking through her fingers. “Charlotte! How could you still be into this kind of… stuff? I mean, really? You actually—”

“Charlotte!” Benjamin’s voice thundered, snapping her attention back to him. His fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles had turned white. “Are you seriously not going to admit to anything? Or are you just refusing to explain yourself?”

“Explain what, exactly?” Charlotte muttered, rubbing her temples as the chaos of the moment pressed down on her. Her grip tightened on the quilt, and in one swift motion, she threw it back over the mysterious man, shielding him from the prying eyes of the reporters. “Fine. I cheated. Happy now? I caught myself in the act, didn’t I?”

Benjamin’s face contorted with rage, his composure cracking under the weight of her nonchalance. “How could you treat everything we’ve been through like this?” he spat, his voice trembling with anger.

“You brought it up,” Charlotte shot back, her voice calm despite the storm raging around her. Her pale eyes flicked between Benjamin and Amelia, who now stood practically draped over his arm like an ornament. “You barged in here, fully convinced of my so-called betrayal, without giving me the benefit of the doubt. Don’t you think our relationship was already broken the moment you chose to believe her over me?”

“Sis, that’s not fair,” Amelia chimed in, her voice quivering as she leaned closer to Benjamin, her head tilting just enough to make her look pitiable. “I only wanted to—”

“Oh, would you just shut up already?” Charlotte growled, her patience finally snapping. Snatching a pillow from the bed, she hurled it directly at Amelia’s face. “Benjamin and I are having a conversation. Did anyone ask for your opinion?”

The scene froze for a moment, Amelia clutching the pillow in shock, Benjamin looking torn between anger and disbelief, and the reporters eating up every second of the drama.

But Charlotte didn’t care about any of it anymore. Her mind was already spinning, working out her next move. She wasn’t going down without a fight.