Editor's Pick

Imposter Wife Chained By Pregnancy


July 12 2023

Compelled by desperation, he took her as his own - a replacement for the lover who lingers comatose. Obligated to resuscitate her family's dignity and help her own sweetheart, she became his wife. At first, their union seemed nothing more than a business transaction, cold and loveless. Yet he slowly changed for his new wife. And she realized she was falling for her new husband. But just as they were growing closer... His comatose lover awoke, and she discovered she was pregnant ...... Keep scrolling to read the sample of Imposter Wife Chained By Pregnancy or download the app to read the entire series

Chapter 1 Counterfeit Bride

At Ormeadow, nestled within Campbell Manor, the opulent estate resembled a majestic palace, boasting exquisite architecture and masterful craftsmanship.

The banquet hall dazzled with countless crystal chandeliers, casting a resplendent glow upon the scene. A rich, crimson carpet stretched from the entrance, leading guests up the staircase to the second floor. The decor exuded a subtle yet unmistakable air of luxury, while each round table showcased beautifully arranged dishes, captivating the eye.

The grand hall brimmed with Ormeadow's most prominent figures, yet retained a spacious and uncrowded ambiance.

Scents of aged wine wafted through the air, complementing the murmured conversations between elegantly-clad men and women.

Many raised glasses adorned with golden filigree, toasting to the fortuitous occasion that had drawn Ormeadow's elite together.

The groom, Corbyn Campbell, stood amidst the festivities with a glass flute in hand. However, despite the joy surrounding him on his wedding day, his green eyes were clouded with a barely perceptible melancholy.

Corbyn gave a subtle signal and his attendant immediately leaned in, whispering something in his ear.

Meanwhile, Hallie Green stood near the window, her gaze absentmindedly fixed on the world outside.

Draped in a bespoke wedding gown adorned with intricate embroidery and sparkling diamonds, she resembled a celestial embodiment, a reflection of a starry sky.

As the sound of a wheelchair approached behind her, Hallie's body trembled slightly, her heart quickening. Slowly, she turned around, revealing a hint of panic etched upon her otherwise beautiful face.

Seated in the wheelchair, Corbyn's eyes were captivated by the figure at the window.

“At last, you have become my wife,” he said softly, a gentle smile adorning his face as he gazed upon Hallie.

An uneasy feeling settled within her, causing Hallie to take a step back.

Observing her reaction, Corbyn's smile widened. With a simple gesture, he signaled to the servants, who promptly nodded and retreated, leaving the wheelchair at a distance from Hallie.

“Come here,” he beckoned, his voice resonating like a melodic violin.

Hallie felt a mix of resistance and fear, torn between approaching him and facing the potential consequences of defiance.

With measured steps, Hallie made her way toward him, delicately holding up her wedding gown. Corbyn admired her graceful figure, her radiant countenance. Finally, she knelt before him.

He extended his hand, gently caressing her smooth face.

But the touch felt cold, like a slithering snake, causing a shiver to run down Hallie's spine.

Suddenly, Corbyn's grip tightened, his fingers gripping the back of Hallie's neck, pulling her closer to him. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he whispered, "Are you afraid of me?"

Hallie was on the brink of panic, almost ready to scream, but she managed to find her voice. "I have married you, as you requested. Our agreement stipulates that you spare my family and the Hill family."

Corbyn studied her face, slightly lost in thought. He murmured, "Whatever you want, Isa."

Hallie was taken aback.

Who was Isa?

Abruptly, Corbyn's demeanor shifted. His expression turned cold, emanating an intense and menacing aura that froze Hallie in place.

Hallie had been engaged to Pierre Hill, her childhood sweetheart. The Hill and Green families had shared a close bond for generations, planning for Hallie and Pierre to marry at year's end. However, both families faced a sudden financial crisis, their business partnerships crumbling and debts mounting.

When they reached out for help, their former contacts turned them away. It was only when they were desperate that someone clandestinely informed them of the Campbell family's involvement in their downfall. The Campbells offered salvation, promising to spare both families and elevate their companies to new heights.

The condition? Hallie's marriage to Corbyn.

Driven by her love for her parents and her fiancé, Hallie reluctantly agreed. But now, regret consumed her.

The man before her wore a smile, but his eyes harbored darkness and cruelty.

"Why me?" Hallie gathered her courage to ask, bewildered as to why Corbyn, a stranger, would target her and her fiancé's families.

"Why?" Corbyn mused, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

He, too, sought an answer. He and Isabella had once been deeply in love, but a tragic car accident had robbed him of his legs, while Isabella fell into an everlasting coma. Five long years had passed, and there was no sign of her awakening.

And then, fate brought a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to Isabella into Corbyn's life.

"Indeed, I was drawn to you," he sneered, his hand tracing her waist. "I was drawn to this face, identical to hers."

"She was meant to be my wife, and today, the woman standing before me should have been her!

But she remains asleep. She's still mad at me...

Look at me, Isa. Today, you are stunningly beautiful. Your dream wedding gown has been completed. See how perfectly it fits you...

Do you like it?"

Hallie realized he mistook her for someone else, and his words grew increasingly unsettling.

"I... I am Hallie, not Isa..."

Those words seemed to trigger something within Corbyn. His eyes turned crimson, and he forcefully tore at the wedding gown, his icy hand brushing against her bare back.

Hallie screamed, hastily trying to hold up the falling dress, but despite her efforts to cover herself, her luminous skin remained exposed.

Lowering his head, Corbyn's gaze lingered upon her exposed bosom. His hands caressed her breathtaking curves, filled with an unsettling mixture of desire and coldness.

"Of course you are not my Isa. Other than this face, there is no resemblance between you," Corbyn's voice dripped with disgust.

Hallie fought against his touch, determined not to succumb to his desires.

"Remember to play your role as my wife and accompany me," he commanded. "Once she awakens, I will let you go."

"But what if she never wakes up?" Hallie's voice trembled with fear.

Corbyn's forehead vein throbbed. "Then you will be my wife for the rest of your days."

"But I am not her... Please, let me go. She will wake up..."

Tears welled up in Hallie's eyes.

Was she destined to suffer unjustly simply because she resembled someone else? Who was she—a mere substitute or a plaything?

Corbyn chuckled softly, his voice seemingly gentle. "No, no... Blame it on this face of yours."

A thought crossed Hallie's mind.

"Don't even think about doing anything sinister. If even a scratch appears on this face, you know the consequences," Corbyn warned her.

Hallie's face turned pale as her thoughts were laid bare.

In Ormeadow, the Campbell family held absolute power. Fear and the desire for their favor permeated every aspect of life. Even the Campbell family's dogs were more esteemed than ordinary people.

Hallie closed her eyes. She had no choice.

Pierre, I'm sorry. Forget about me.

A single tear cascaded down her cheek, staining the pristine white dress.

Corbyn observed her with curiosity. It seemed that tears heightened her sensitivity.

"Today is our wedding day, my dear wife. Are you pretending to resist while secretly welcoming it?" he taunted, restraining her hands and causing the flawless wedding gown to slip away.

The long train trailed behind her, and Hallie's eyes glistened with moisture. She gazed at her own reflection, panic consuming her.

Her porcelain skin bore marks from the weight of the heavy gown, lending her an air of delicate beauty.

Lust tainted Corbyn's gaze. Ignoring Hallie's startled cries, he lifted her effortlessly and discarded the remaining garments.

"Your body is certainly honest..." he remarked.

In Hallie's eyes, filled with shame and anger, any remnants of Corbyn's patience vanished.

Since she was his wife, she should fulfill her wifely duties.

"What do you want from me?" Hallie pushed against him with all her strength, but his weight pinned her down, rendering her motionless.

"I want to possess you," he uttered with a sinister tone.

With his words, a sudden pain swept through her, causing her head to spin.

Her alabaster breasts swayed with each movement, the marks left by his fervent touch resembling alluring roses, blooming between her collarbone and neck.

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