After Marrying a Fake Heiress, She Regretted Losing Me

Unlike the twofaced socialites of Highbourne’s elite circle, she knew how to revel in the moment, savoring life without pretense.

I had long prepared the engagement gifts, patiently waiting for her to have fun before settling down.

Yet, when I placed the family keepsake in her hands, she burst into laughter, bending over as if I had told the greatest joke.

"Edmund, it’s impressive that a bodyguard like you could produce something like this. But compared to what others have given me, this is hardly worth a second glance."

At that moment, I finally understood she had only ever seen me as a plaything.

She traced her fingers along my abs and praised me.

"You have good taste. Last night, Young Master Remington said the dress you picked was stunning. What a shame you’re just a bodyguard."

I pulled away from her touch, my composure settling like cold steel.

That Young Master Remington had played his role for long enough. It was time for me to reclaim what was mine.

——

"Get off me. I told you not to leave any marks. I’m going out tonight. What if someone notices?"

After an intense round of passion, I was helping Juliet Radcliffe relax, my hands gliding over her silklike skin. She lay sprawled out, basking in the warmth of my touch like a spoiled cat.

But just as easily as she melted beneath my hands, she snapped back to reality, her tone turning sharp. Remembering the Radcliffe Family’s talks of an arranged marriage, I tested the waters.

"Where are you going?"

She turned away, refusing to meet my gaze.

"Why do you care? You’re just a bodyguard. Stay in your place and don’t meddle in your master’s affairs."

Noticing the dark circles under her eyes, I pressed a little harder on her pressure points, hoping to ease some of the exhaustion weighing on her.

"If you’re tired, just rest. Stop pushing yourself so hard. I’ll take care of you."

She suddenly flipped over, her eyes dark with warning.

Two sharp strikes landed across my face, burning like fire.

"You? Just stay by my side and do your job. Don’t entertain thoughts you shouldn’t have."

She had spent over twenty years as an ordinary girl, switched at birth and unaware of her true lineage. Only a few months ago, she had finally been found and brought back to the Radcliffe Family.

But no matter how much wealth and status she now held, she was still the same girl underneath, one who would never truly see me.

But her rightful place had long been taken.

Now that she was back, she was desperate to prove herself. Tonight’s meeting, she would give it everything she had.

I admired her ambition. Unlike those pretentious socialites, she never hid her desires. But her reckless ways? They were a constant thorn in my side.

"I think I know where you’re going. But with our relationship, do you really plan to marry someone else?"

She sat up, bare skin glowing in the dim light, her long legs planted firmly on the floor. Hands on her hips, she threw her head back and laughed, utterly unbothered.

"Edmund, you’re good in every way except for that brain of yours. What do you even think about all day? If I get married, it’ll be to someone like Young Master Remington. You think you’re worthy?"

My jaw tightened. My fingers curled into fists.

In a flash, I was off the bed, gripping her wrist before she could slip away.

"You can only marry me. I’ve already decided on you. Shouldn’t you at least ask if I agree?"

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she lazily trailed a finger down my chest, then my abs, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"In our world, purity doesn’t matter. Only status does. You’re taking this too seriously."

I caught her hand midmotion, twisting it back just enough to make her gasp, then pulled her into my arms, locking her against me.

As punishment, I bit her earlobe, my teeth grazing her skin.

"Don’t talk nonsense. Whatever you want, I can give it to you. Don’t go."

She winced, barely, before breaking free. The warmth in her eyes vanished, replaced with ice.

"Edmund, you’ve crossed the line. You’re being punished. Go stand guard at the gate as a security officer for three days. Come back when you’ve calmed down."

I stood frozen in disbelief, tightening my chest. But she didn’t wait for a response.

"Before you go, pick out a dress for me and help me get ready."

Like dressing up a doll, I slipped her into the red dress I had chosen, my hands moving with practiced ease as I styled her hair. Her scent lingered on my fingertips, but I swallowed the frustration burning in my throat and turned away.

Without another word, I stormed off to the security post.

She left right before my eyes.

Got into a car.

And by midnight, she still hadn’t returned.

Anxiety clawed at my chest as I called her again and again.

No answer.

By two in the morning, I dialed once more. This time, a man picked up.

His voice was heavy with exhaustion, with a drowsy satisfaction that made my stomach turn. I knew exactly what he had just finished doing. My heart plummeted.

He let out a low chuckle. "Juliet’s asleep. Who’s this?"

My throat tightened. A long silence stretched between us before I finally forced out two words.

"Her bodyguard."

That seemed to wake him up. Amusement seeped into his voice, slow and deliberate.

"Oh, so you’re Juliet’s bodyguard? She talks about you a lot. Says you’re always meddling where you shouldn’t. Guess she was right."

For the first time, I realized how she spoke about me behind my back.

His smugness was unmistakable.

"Your lady spent the night here. Stop calling. I’ll personally bring her back tomorrow."

He dragged out the word personally, savoring it, before hanging up.

I clenched my jaw and called again. No answer.

The thought of her lying in another man’s arms sent a surge of fury through me. Without thinking, I hurled my phone to the ground. The screen shattered into a thousand pieces, just like the last shred of restraint I had left.

I stood at the entrance all night, hoping, praying, that Juliet would change her mind and come back.

But hope was a foolish thing.

Morning arrived and a familiar car pulled into the driveway.

I stared at the license plate, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing. Then, before I could react, Juliet was carried out in a bridalstyle embrace.

Their gazes met, soft, intimate like newlyweds.

When they reached me, they both hesitated. The man lingered, studying me with quiet amusement.

I stepped forward, instinctively reaching for Juliet, but she turned away, dodging my touch.

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. "It was her first time last night; she’s a little sore. I figured I’d bring her back myself. No need for a security guard’s help."

His tone was light, teasing, as if the entire situation was nothing more than a joke to him.

Juliet buried her face against his chest, looking fragile. Shy.

I let out a short laugh. She tensed instantly as if bracing for what I might say.

"Edmund, don’t bother. Let him carry me."

She was still wearing the red dress I had picked for her yesterday. Now, it was wrinkled, the hem frayed with tiny tears, silent proof of the night she had spent in his arms.

My fists clenched, but I pretended not to catch the meaning behind her words. Stubbornly, I reached for her again.

She met my gaze, defiant, her chin tilted ever so slightly.

"Edmund, go get Young Master Remington a hangover remedy."

The moment I heard his surname, my head snapped up.

I glanced at the license plate once more, and suddenly, everything fell into place.

So this was the man the family had chosen for her.

She had bragged about it before, how her fiancé was leagues above the fake heiress’s match.

Swallowing down the bitter taste in my mouth, I mixed honey with water and carried it to Juliet.

Anger burned beneath my skin, but I didn’t bother knocking.

Inside, they had been tangled up in each other, lost in some intimate moment, but at the sound of the door, they sprang apart, fumbling to straighten their clothes.

Juliet’s cheeks flushed as she yanked the blanket over herself, looking impossibly shy, like a true firsttimer.

I had seen her in her most reckless, indulgent moments. I had watched her teeter on the edge of control. But never like this.

For a long moment, I just stood there, frozen, the glass in my hand feeling heavier than it should.

I had met her when she was just an ordinary girl. And when she rose among Highbourne’s elite, I had followed, becoming her shadow, her bodyguard.

Every servant in her house was strikingly attractive. It hadn’t been a coincidence. It took me a while to realize she had done this deliberately.

And yet, I was the one who had lasted the longest by her side.

She once told me I was addictive, different from the pretty boys she had toyed with before.

I had foolishly believed that meant she would choose me.

Now, I knew better.

Noticing I was still standing there, she peeked out from beneath the covers, her lips curling into a playful pout.

"Edmund, get out already."

Then, as if she hadn’t already torn me apart enough, she turned back to Sebastian, her voice dipping into something soft, teasing.

"It was my first time and you were so rough. You need to make it up to me."

Sebastian, lounging at the edge of the bed, slid a hand under the covers, soothing her, right in front of me.

I couldn't bear to listen any longer and shut the door.

Inside, the sounds only grew louder, no longer restrained.

Back at the security post, a few guards exchanged sneers.

They had always resented me for staying by Juliet’s side longer than they ever could. Now that I had been cast aside, they saw no reason to hold back.

Outnumbered, I couldn’t fight them off. My thoughts were still stuck in that room as fists rained down on me. By the time they finally let up, leaving me bruised and swollen, things in Juliet’s room had yet to end.

I returned to the security quarters, stripped off my shirt and began tending to my wounds.

Just as I reached for the medicine, a pair of hands appeared behind me, plucking it from my grasp.

Startled, I turned and found myself facetoface with Genevieve Radcliffe.

The fake heiress who had stolen Juliet’s place for over twenty years.

She blinked at me playfully, her lips curling into a teasing smile.

"If my sister doesn’t want you, can’t I?"

I flinched, yanking my shirt back on, desperate to put distance between us.

Genevieve had spent over two decades as a wealthy heiress, carrying an air of effortless detachment. Now that her position in the family had grown uncertain, she usually steered clear of conflict with Juliet whenever possible.

This was the first time she had ever taken the initiative to fight for something.

I never expected that something to be me.

"You must be joking, Miss Genevieve."

She didn’t seem offended. Instead, she simply shook the medicine bottle in her hand, her tone light.

"I wouldn’t joke about this. I think you’re great, capable, goodlooking, definitely my type."

Though she wasn’t truly an heiress, the confidence ingrained in her over the years remained intact.

I studied her, trying to decipher her motives. Maybe this was just her way of reclaiming something, anything after Juliet had taken so much from her.

Scoffing at myself, I took the medicine from her and sank onto the chair.

"Miss Genevieve, Juliet already has a new target. You don’t need to waste your time on me."

She didn’t argue. Instead, her gaze swept over my small quarters before she turned and left.

By dinnertime, the two who had spent all day locked away finally emerged.

The family welcomed Sebastian with warmth, inviting him to join them at the table.

As they settled into their seats, Sebastian pulled out a chair for Juliet, his every gesture brimming with attentiveness.

Her parents beamed, nodding in approval.

"I’ve always heard that Young Master Remington isn’t like the others in his circle, that he’s loyal. We’ll be at ease entrusting our daughter to you."

The meal unfolded harmoniously, except for my mistake.

Archer Radcliffe, Juliet’s father, had always been aware of my past with her. He usually turned a blind eye, but when I accidentally dropped a glass, my injured hand failing me, his gaze darkened. He didn’t see it as an accident; he saw it as a provocation.

Sebastian, ever the opportunist, seized the moment to taunt me.

"This bodyguard is really dedicated, Uncle Archer. Juliet spent the night at my place and he called all night."

Archer slammed his palm against the table, his face darkening as he pointed at me.

"Get out! A bodyguard has no right to meddle in his master’s affairs!"

I kept my head down, silent. As long as Juliet didn’t order me to leave, I refused to go.

My lack of response only fueled Archer’s rage.

"We can’t afford to keep you! Get lost before you ruin my daughter’s marriage!"

I turned to Juliet.

She didn’t even glance my way, too busy plucking the best cuts of meat for Sebastian, her laughter soft, sweet, indifferent.

The silence stretched until Genevieve finally spoke, her voice calm yet deliberate.

"Dad, why not assign him to protect me instead?"

Archer hesitated, momentarily thrown off by her request.

Juliet, who had been all too focused on Sebastian, finally reacted. Her gaze turned sharp, cutting straight through Genevieve.

"My people are not for you to take. Who do you think you are?"

A flicker of something reckless ignited in my chest.

Juliet still couldn’t let me go.

But her next words sent me plummeting into the abyss.

"Come here and peel shrimp for Young Master Remington."

My fists curled tight, my feet refusing to budge.

She noticed the shift in my expression and quickly changed course.

"Forget it. Young Master Remington brought plenty of gifts for Mom and Dad. Go move them inside."

I made trip after trip, hauling boxes in and out more than ten times until every last gift had been carried inside.

Scattered across the floor were familiar treasures, remnants of a past that now belonged to someone else. My gaze drifted to Sebastian, my mind clouded with unspoken thoughts.

Sebastian barely glanced at the gifts before steering the conversation toward the wedding.

I knew if I stayed silent any longer, there would be no turning back. Even if it meant offending them, I had to speak.

"Master, this man’s background is unclear. You can’t let Miss Radcliffe marry him."

The entire family turned to me as if I had lost my mind. The onceharmonious dinner unraveled into uneasy silence.

That night, I slipped into Juliet’s room.

Her fists rained down on me, each blow landing on my wounds like fire searing into my skin.

"What the hell do you know? I was born to marry someone of this status! The Remington Family is the most powerful among my potential matches. Even getting into this family was a stroke of luck for me! If you ruin this for me and they end up marrying Genevieve instead, I’ll kill you."

She was in a foul mood tonight; I knew that. Yet, despite the pain coursing through me, I still reached into my pocket and handed her the diamond bracelet I had prepared.

"This is my family’s keepsake. Trust me, I can give you the future you want."

"With what? A bodyguard’s salary?"

She plucked the bracelet between two fingers, barely sparing it a glance before tossing it aside. The delicate piece shattered on the floor, the sharp crack echoing in the silence.

"Edmund, my sister is watching my every move. If I marry a bodyguard, she’ll die laughing."

At that moment, Genevieve appeared at the doorway, leaning against the frame with an unreadable expression.

"I wouldn’t laugh. Brother Sebastian is a great man. I’d love to marry him."

Juliet stiffened, taking her words as a deliberate provocation, a challenge to her claim over the Remington Family.

She turned, plucking a diamond ring from the pile of gifts and holding it up between her fingers.

"See? Even Sebastian’s gifts outshine your worthless keepsake. Give up already. I’m marrying him."

Juliet had grown up in comfort, shielded from the true worth of things. She couldn’t recognize the rarity of the bracelet, a treasure once auctioned off years ago.

I had begged my mother for it with everything I had.

Genevieve, however, understood its value. Her gaze lingered on it for a moment, but she said nothing.

I bent down, picking up the bracelet, its fractured beauty mirroring the hope I had clung to.

"I resign. Juliet, I quit."

"Go ahead," she scoffed. "Once I’m married, I’ll bring you back. By then, you can do whatever you want."

It had been a long time since I had been home. The moment I stepped through the door, my mother’s eyes landed on me, curiosity gleaming in her expression.

"So, son, whose daughter is my future daughterinlaw?"

She was more interested in the bracelet’s fate than anything else—after all, in over twenty years, this was the first time I had pursued a girl.

"I gave it to my fiancée."

Her eyes lit up. "What kind of person is she?"

"She’s from the Radcliffe Family."

Relief flooded her face, her excitement barely contained. She all but danced with joy, reassured that her son wasn’t into men.

Still unconvinced, she pressed again.

"Invite her over this weekend. Your dad’s sponsoring a kid and he’s bringing his girlfriend, too. It’ll be a great chance for everyone to meet."

Her words triggered a thought.

I smiled. "No problem. Let’s make it lively."

When Sebastian brought Juliet into our home, I was still upstairs, resting.

Hearing their voices, so painfully familiar, I finally confirmed what I had suspected all along, Sebastian’s true identity.

Downstairs, my mother’s voice brimmed with admiration as she showered Juliet with praise, calling her generous and wellmannered.

Then, the doorbell rang.

Juliet’s tone shifted in an instant, her voice edged with unease.

"Genevieve, what are you doing here? The Remington Family isn’t a place for you!"

My mother, sensing the tension crackling in the air, hurried to smooth things over.

"Girl, you must be mistaken. This is my future daughterinlaw."

My mom’s excited voice carried through the house as she called out to me.

"Son, come down quickly; your girlfriend is here!"

"Auntie, isn’t the Remington Family supposed to have only one son? How is there another one?"

The stage was set. I took my time descending the stairs at a slow, deliberate pace. A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips as I met Juliet’s gaze headon.