My Disabled Billionaire Husband's Obsession

“Mr. Damian Blackwood, do you take Miss Genevieve Ashford to be your wife, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to care for her, cherish her, never leave her, never abandon her? Do you?”

“I do.” The groom in a perfectly tailored suit—handsome, refined—answered softly.

On the other side, in a dark basement.

A man in a silver mask pinched Seraphina Ashford’s chin, forcing her to lift her face toward the video.

“Watch closely. The man you love is marrying your sweet younger sister. Tsk. What a touching wedding.”

Seraphina’s eyes were bloodshot. Tears welled up in her eyes. The fact shattered her heart.

On the screen, her fiancé, Damian, was marrying her half-sister, Genevieve.

The wedding was lavish beyond reason, packed with guests—almost half the elite circle, wealthy families and powerful names.

Damian looked into the camera, tenderness dripping from every word. “Genevieve, thank you. Without your support, I wouldn’t have become who I am today. Having your love is the greatest luck of my life.”

Disgusting. The two of them.

Seraphina’s eyes went wide with rage. Tears flooded down her face.

Now she finally understood. Her stepsister had been with Damian for a long time.

They’d joined hands to set her up, smear her name, squeeze her dry—tricking her into marrying that half-paralyzed, cold, twisted devil young master from the Montgomery family, just so they could wring benefits out of the Montgomery family through her.

They’d swallowed the inheritance her mother left her. Her stepsister had even stolen her place and become the famous designer, climbing higher and higher while using Seraphina.

The masked man’s expensive shoe pressed down on Seraphina’s head. He smiled. “Interesting, isn’t it?”

Through her tangled black hair, Seraphina tried to see his face.

“Oh? Still thinking about revenge?” The man sneered. “You think anyone still cares about you?”

“You betrayed your billionaire husband and messed around with random men. The Montgomeries don’t acknowledge you as one of them anymore. Your grandpa already released a statement cutting ties with you. From now on, you’re not allowed to step into the Ashford's again.”

“The only person who ever truly loved you—your grandfather—was so furious he had a heart attack and died on the street. Now, even if you die, nobody will even collect your body.”

'What?'

'Grandpa?'

Shock flooded Seraphina’s crimson eyes. She let out muffled sounds, thrashing crazily as she tried to fight back. She lunged and bit down on the man’s hand, hard.

The man’s gaze turned vicious. He grabbed her hair and slammed her head into the coffee table.

Bang!

With that dull impact, the bottles and glasses on the table scattered everywhere.

Liquor splashed into her messy hair. Seraphina’s face twisted in pain, her complexion ghost-white as she collapsed weakly onto the floor.

The man looked at her with nothing but contempt.

Her stepmother, her stepsister, her boyfriend, her best friend—every one of them had been sucking her blood. And she’d believed that after fourteen years of being out there alone, she’d finally found family, finally been accepted, and finally been given a new life.

She’d been so naive. She thought if she did everything they told her to do, then once she left Lucian, Damian would marry her.

However, he was taking her sister’s hand and walking into marriage—high above her, carefree and comfortable.

They framed her for cheating during the marriage, ruined her reputation, and made her lose everyone. Then, behind the scenes, they sold her to this terrifying man in exchange for even more benefits.

“So boring. I don’t even get what Lucian ever liked about you. You know what? Thanks to your desperate escape from him, he got badly hurt saving you and fell into a coma. Heh. I love watching him lose everything and suffer so much he can’t breathe.”

“But I’m tired now. Go.” The masked man smiled—dangerous, wicked.

Really?

Seraphina couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.

She struggled to her feet. Just as she was about to leave—

Pfft.

A piercing pain exploded through her back.

She looked down. A silver blade had punched straight through her heart.

Seraphina endured the agony and slowly turned around.

Behind her, Damian—still in the groom’s suit—was holding the dagger buried in her heart.

His cold, handsome face didn’t change at all. He looked at her like she was trash. “Seraphina, you don't deserve me. You can't compare to Genevieve at all. Just looking at you disgusts me. Useless things don’t deserve to exist—so disappear forever.”

Seraphina heard the sound of her heart breaking. The pain strangled her until she couldn’t breathe.

Her lips moved. Blood immediately surged down from the corner of her mouth, but she couldn’t force out a single word.

On the screen, the replay showed the groom kissing the bride, their happiness glowing—so sharp it was a mockery.

She hated them.

She hated herself for being stupid.

She hated that they had stolen everything from her.

Her body grew colder and colder as darkness swallowed the world.

*****

“Sera, Sera!” That nauseating voice rang by her ear.

Seraphina’s head felt like it was splitting open. She slowly opened her eyes, the suffocating tightness in her chest still there.

“Sera, are you okay? Are you too nervous? Want some water?” Genevieve, wearing a bridesmaid dress, gripped Seraphina’s hand tightly.

Seraphina’s pupils shrank. Instinctively, she flung her hand away.

Genevieve?

Why was the stepsister who took everything from her, who drove her to ruin, here?

“Oh, no!” Genevieve almost fell. “Sera, what are you doing? The wedding’s about to start. Everyone’s waiting for you!”

Seraphina froze, slowly looking around.

The huge makeup room was plastered with wedding decorations, bright and festive, dressed up with flowers and balloons.

On the table sat embossed wedding invitations, printed with blessings for a perfect union.

Outside the window, roses bloomed across the estate—an endless sea of color, blazing and dazzling like a scorching July.

Today was...

Seraphina’s eyes widened. She snatched up the phone on the table.

The date on the screen was crystal clear.

She was back six years ago—back on the day she and Lucian had their wedding.

Was this...

a dream?

Genevieve was getting impatient and urged her, “Sera, we know you feel bad. So when the ceremony starts, be tough. Don’t cooperate with the vows. Let that cripple from the Montgomery family know you don’t like him. Make him give up the idea that he can have you.”

“Give your mother-in-law a warning shot. Let her know how tough you are. Don’t give her a pleasant face. Remind her we're not trying to climb the ladders—they're begging you to get married. Make them realize this reality.”

“Sera, status is something you fight for yourself. You have to be firm. Don’t leave that old woman any room.”

Be firm?

Seraphina lifted her eyes, studying Genevieve with icy calm. Fury churned in her gaze.

She would never forget that day. On the day of the wedding, she refused to take the vows, refused to exchange rings, refused to address anyone properly. The scene became unbearably awkward.

Lucian’s parents had genuinely wanted to treat their future daughter-in-law well—but they never expected someone so ill-mannered, arrogant, and crude. Their faces darkened a lot, and Seraphina left an extremely bad impression.

Seraphina's grandfather was so angry he had a heart attack on the spot.

Her image—crude, rude, savage, domineering—was branded deep into everyone’s mind.

“Sera, I've warned you. If you don’t handle this right, then don’t blame me—Dad and Mom, and Grandpa and Grandma will all look down on you.”