He dropped to one knee at his family’s gala, flashing the ring. Cameras. Gasps.

Your half-sister watched from the crowd—smirking.

You’d already read the diary.

He was cheating on you with her. Planning to marry you, kill you and his uncle, and steal the fortune. He thought his uncle—never married, assumed gay—was an easy mark.

So, when he asked you to marry him, you smiled and said, “No.”

Whispers erupted.

You walked to his uncle, leaned down, and whispered, “Play along.”

Then, louder, “I couldn’t say yes—because I’ve been sleeping with his uncle.”

Stunned silence. Your ex’s face turned to stone.

His uncle raised an eyebrow. “Well… this just got interesting.”

—

Later, in private, his uncle stared at you. “That act… was it for the money?”

You handed him the diary. “Read it.”

He did. Then shut it slowly. Pale. Angry. “I didn’t know.”

You just said, “He underestimated both of us.”

—

A week later, during a business pitch, you caught one guy drugging his wine while the other tried to seduce him.

You warned him—too late. He drank it.

It kicked in fast. He dismissed the men, turned to you, voice low and strained.

“It’s taking everything I have not to touch you.”

You stepped forward. “Then don’t hold back.”

—

Two months later, at his family’s anniversary gala, he was about to sign his will over to your ex.

You interrupted.

“I’m pregnant—with his baby.”

The room froze. Your ex’s eyes went wide.

You showed the test. His uncle dropped the pen.

Then he took the mic. “My nephew cheated on her. Planned to kill us both for my fortune. His diary proves it.”

Police moved in. Your ex was arrested.

His uncle stood beside you, hand over your stomach. “You saved me.”

You smiled. “You saved me first.”