The Wife's Secret: A Marriage of Lies

When Isabella Taylor arrived at the club with the cake, she was stopped by the security guard.

"What are you here for? Do you have our membership?" The guard looked her up and down, his eyes wary.

Isabella naturally didn't have a membership here.

The Mirage Club operated on a membership system. Customers had to verify their assets first - only those with over ten million dollars in assets could barely qualify for entry-level membership.

Although she was married to Vincent White, they had always kept their finances separate.

"I'm Vincent's wife. I'm here for his birthday. Please let me in," Isabella said.

"Vincent's wife?"

The guard sneered, "People these days must be crazy. Look at yourself before pretending to be Mrs. White. Mrs. White already went in with Mr. White earlier today."

Isabella's heart jumped, a sense of foreboding creeping over her.

She took out her phone and called Vincent directly.

But after four or five calls, all went unanswered. The guard watching her showed mockery in his eyes. "Still pretending? Get out of here. Don't block the way."

Isabella pressed her lips together. She glanced at the guard, then suddenly dashed for the club entrance.

"What are you doing?" The guard quickly tried to stop her.

Isabella had been to the club a few times before and knew Vincent always used private room number eight. She walked quickly, ducking into a nearby restroom. After the guard's footsteps faded away, she came out and continued toward her destination.

As she reached the room, a lively conversation drifted out from inside.

"Freya lost again. Vincent, drink up."

"How many glasses has he had tonight? Won't it be too much?"

"Don't worry. Vincent's playing the hero. He's doing it willingly."

The familiar yet strange name froze Isabella in place.

Freya Taylor, Vincent's first love.

Freya and Vincent had once been recognized as the perfect couple in high society circles. But after an accident left Vincent paralyzed and blind from a car crash, Freya fled abroad overnight. Isabella, as Freya's twin sister, was forced to marry Vincent in her place.

But no one believed the truth. They were convinced that Isabella had schemed her way into stealing Freya's marriage.

"If Isabella hadn't interfered back then, Vincent and Freya would have been married long ago."

"Isabella doesn't deserve Vincent at all."

"It's like a beautiful flower stuck in cow dung."

These insults had followed Isabella like a shadow for three years, weighing on her until she could barely breathe.

Inside the room, the atmosphere remained lively.

As they were about to make Vincent drink more, Freya, wearing a white sleeveless dress, stepped forward with a smile to intervene. "Alright, stop bullying Vincent. I'll drink this one myself."

She reached for the glass, but Vincent pressed his hand over hers.

The alcohol softened Vincent's features, his usually cold expression showing hints of indulgence and abandon. "You're not well. Don't drink."

"But..."

"Enough with the 'buts'!" Someone interrupted. "Since you two care about each other so much, just kiss already!"

"Yeah, kiss!"

"Kiss, kiss!"

The atmosphere in the room reached another peak. Freya blushed deeply, but her eyes held anticipation as she looked at Vincent.

"Vincent, should we..."

Before she could finish, the door was suddenly pushed open with force.

The loud noise made everyone look toward the entrance. Annoyance flashed in Freya's eyes, but when she looked up and saw Isabella, something flickered in her gaze.

"Isabella? What are you doing here?" She quickly put distance between herself and Vincent. "Don't misunderstand. Vincent and I haven't done anything."

Isabella's tone was mocking. "About to kiss and you say nothing happened? Next time, if I find you two in the same bed, will you say you were just sleeping together and chatting?"

Freya's eyes reddened, her voice aggrieved. "What do you mean by that?"

Before Isabella could respond, Vincent coldly scolded, "Isabella, stop talking nonsense. Freya and I were just playing a game. It's not as dirty as you're making it out to be."

"So your games are pretty wild then. Kissing and hugging in a game - if you actually dated, would you have to worry every day about your partner cheating?" Isabella shot back.

"You..."

"Vincent, don't be angry. Let me explain to her."

Vincent's face darkened. He was about to speak when Freya interrupted.

She picked up a glass of wine and walked toward Isabella while speaking. "You really have misunderstood Vincent and me."

As Freya got closer to Isabella, she clearly said in a voice only the two of them could hear, "Isabella, after all these years, you're still such a mess. Even a security guard can boss you around."

"And your husband - after all this time, he still can't forget me. You really are useless."

Pain shot through Isabella's heart. She instinctively pushed Freya's hand away.

But Freya suddenly cried out and fell to the ground.

Freya looked up at Isabella with tears in her eyes. "Vincent and I really have nothing going on. We were just playing a game."

"Please don't misunderstand, okay?"

"Freya!" Vincent rushed forward. He picked up Freya and glared coldly at Isabella. "Isabella, what's wrong with you? Not only is there nothing between Freya and me, but even if there was, you have no right to make a scene here!"

"If you hadn't pretended to be Freya back then and taken her place, do you think you could have been Mrs. White for so many years?"

Those words stopped Isabella cold.

She looked at Vincent, her nose stinging uncontrollably.

So he had always believed that what happened back then was her doing.

Three years ago, Vincent was blinded and paralyzed in a car accident. When the news got out, Freya bought a ticket and fled abroad overnight.

Isabella and Freya's father, Mason Taylor, afraid of being blamed by the White family, forced Isabella to marry Vincent in Freya's place.

After the marriage, Isabella willingly gave up her chance to study abroad to take care of Vincent, becoming the housewife everyone looked down on, until his body fully recovered.

She had thought that three years of sharing hardships would leave some trace in Vincent's heart and gradually dissolve the barriers and misunderstandings between them.

She never expected that she had been fooling herself all along.

Isabella looked at Vincent and Freya, who were embracing, and laughed coldly, "Marriages can end in divorce. If someone goes abroad, you can take a plane to chase after them. Acting so wronged - aren't you just trying to cover up the fact that you're cheating in your marriage?"

"Vincent, you really have no backbone."

She dropped those words and, ignoring Vincent's darkening expression behind her, turned and left.

When leaving the club, Isabella tossed the cake into a trash bin.

She wouldn't let Vincent eat what she made, even if she had to feed it to dogs instead.

Isabella took a cab back to the White Villa, only to find Vincent's mother, Winter Hayes, waiting in the living room. Seeing her return, Winter immediately scolded with a scowl, "Where did you run off to again? You're married but never home. What, looking for another man out there?"

"Look at yourself, all haggard. Besides White family, who else would marry a woman like you who can't even get pregnant?"