My Husband Stole My Heart and Killed My Mother

On the eve of my wedding, my mother stumbled upon my fiancé and my best friend wrapped in a betrayal so deep it shattered her heart.

The betrayal sent a shockwave through her fragile heart, triggering a relapse that left her fighting for her life. She needed an immediate transplant.

Fortunately, I had already undergone compatibility testing with her. Without hesitation, I gave her my heart, surviving on an artificial one.

Desperate to cover the overwhelming cost of the surgery, I turned to my fiancé for help.

He claimed he had no cash on hand, only to register his marriage with Rhea Dmitri the very next day.

In the depths of my despair, Theodore Dmitri appeared like a lifeline. He covered every expense and performed the surgery to save us both.

But when I woke, his expression was heavy with regret. His voice was soft, almost apologetic. “Your mother... she suffered an unexpected rejection during the operation. The transplant failed.”

She was gone. Forever.

With swollen, tearstreaked eyes, I crumbled into his arms. He held me close, whispering his devotion, swearing to care for me for a lifetime. I believed him.

Seven years into our marriage, fate twisted the knife once more. A conversation I was never meant to hear shattered everything.

“So you swapped Faye Claude’s heart for Rhea’s right in front of her mother? That’s brutal.”

“There was no other choice. Her heart was a perfect match for Rhea.”

“But they had already found a suitable donor. She only needed to wait half a day. Was it really that urgent?”

Theodore sighed, his voice laced with quiet longing. “I couldn’t bear to let Rhea suffer. Not even for a second.”

Inside the study, just beyond a single door, Theodore exhaled a slow ring of smoke, his tone unreadable.

“If society’s rules kept me from marrying her, then the least I could do was protect Rhea for a lifetime.”

Dominic Wallace hesitated, his expression clouded with unease.

“But Faye has a rare blood type. Finding a compatible heart for her is nearly impossible. She’s been suffering from constant coughing fits and unbearable chest pain. And she can’t even have children.”

“Her artificial heart has only a month left before it fails,” he pressed, desperation creeping into his voice. “She needs a real one now. Are you really going to make her endure endless surgeries and repeat this agony over and over? She loves you more than anything. Just give her heart back to her. You already have multiple backup donors lined up for Rhea.”

Theodore’s expression turned frigid in an instant. “No. The more backup donors I have, the safer Rhea will be. I won’t take that risk. Not for anyone.”

Dominic’s chest tightened as a wave of frustration surged through him.

“What about Faye? I can still see her mother’s face, the way she wept blood as she died, consumed by hatred. Aren’t you afraid Faye will come for you once she learns the truth?”

Theodore went silent, then let out a low, selfmocking chuckle.

“If she wants my life, she can take it. I planned to care for her for the rest of my life anyway. As long as Rhea is happy, I’ll die without regrets.”

My knuckles turned white as I clenched the doorknob, my entire body trembling, veins straining beneath my skin.

Heart pounding, I fumbled for my phone, recording everything before fleeing to my bedroom, my legs nearly giving out beneath me.

The moment I shut the door, I collapsed to the floor, my breath ragged, my mind in chaos.

My body had never fully adapted to the artificial heart. Weakness clung to me like a shadow, coughing fits, sharp stabs of pain in my chest and limbs that barely obeyed me.

Back then, Theodore had told me a heart transplant required a living donor. My mother had died, which meant there was no way to return what was stolen.

I had thought it didn’t matter so long as my heart could remain with my mother forever.

No wonder Theodore had stopped me when I begged to see her one last time, insisting I was too weak to get out of bed after surgery. He had taken charge of her funeral, handling everything himself.

So this socalled salvation, this supposed love, it was nothing but a sacrifice orchestrated by a devil.

He had never even performed surgery on my mother.

Both of us had been nothing more than offerings for the woman he truly loved.

And to keep me from ever suspecting the truth, he had pushed my mother into the operating room first, forcing her to watch, powerless, as her own daughter’s heart was torn from her chest and placed inside another.

She had died in despair, crying blood.

Even without a heart, an unbearable ache spread through my chest and a fresh burst of blood spilled from my lips.

"Faye?"

At some point, Theodore had appeared.

His expression darkened at the sight of me coughing up blood again.

Without hesitation, he scooped me into his arms and laid me on the bed, his fingers trembling as he wiped the crimson stain from the corner of my mouth.

"I'm sorry, Faye. I failed to take care of you." His voice was laced with guilt; his eyes reddened, just as they always were whenever he saw me in pain. "Don’t worry. I’ve arranged for the best artificial heart. In a few days, you’ll have a new one."

I used to believe those eyes held sorrow for me. I even forced myself to be strong, whispering reassurances that I was fine just to ease his burden.

Looking back now, I was such a fool.

"Theodore, I've endured so much pain all these years." My voice was weak, yet every word carried the weight of my torment. "Can I stop using the artificial heart?"

‘Didn’t you already prepare spare donor hearts for Rhea? Then… can I have my heart back?’

For a brief second, hesitation flickered in Theodore’s eyes, then, just as quickly, it vanished behind a gentle smile. He stroked my hair, his touch deceptively tender.

"Faye, don’t say foolish things. You don’t have a matching donor. Without an artificial heart, do you want me to watch you die? You might as well kill me first."

No donor?

But the heart beating inside Rhea’s chest was mine.

A chill crept through my veins, numbing me from the inside out. Still, I forced a smile.

"You’re right. I was being silly."

With a soft laugh, I turned away, masking the ice settling in my bones. Using the excuse of preparing his bath, I emptied an entire bottle of sleepinducing essential oil into the steaming water.

When he returned, exhaustion dragged him under almost instantly.

Perhaps he was lost in a dream of the woman he longed for because even in sleep, his voice murmured her name.

"Rhea… I will protect you, even if it costs my life."

A man I had loved with every piece of my shattered soul for seven years, yet in his dreams, he only had room for her.

A bitter laugh caught in my throat before it dissolved into tears, spilling unchecked down my cheeks.

With trembling fingers, I dialed my best friend, a doctor who had just returned from volunteering in Africa.

"I need your help with a surgery."

The reply came quick, laced with concern. "Are you sure?"

I exhaled softly, my gaze locked on the man sleeping soundly in front of me.

"Yes. Three days from now."

What was there to fear about death?

A life worse than death was far more terrifying.

Setting down my phone, I quietly took Theodore’s and walked into the study.

As expected, the passcode was Rhea’s birthday.

I never knew he had a second WhatsApp account.

He must have forgotten to switch back because his profile picture was nothing but two intertwined letters: "Love Rhea."

Such an unabashed, shameless declaration of devotion.

I opened his Instagram. Every post was filled with pictures of Rhea, each caption dripping with concealed yet boastful affection.

[The first day I arrived at the family, I saw Rhea and finally understood what it meant to be moved.]

[Rhea got married. I'm going mad with jealousy. I want to stuff her into my body so she belongs to me alone.]

[Today, I took Faye three times. I know her body can't handle it, but I couldn’t stop myself. I miss Rhea too much, so I keep calling her name in my heart as if that would turn the woman beneath me into her…]

And that wasn’t all. Post after post displayed extravagant gifts. Jewelry and handbags, each one meant for Rhea.

Not a single one for me.

He had even bought a heartshaped island overseas in her name.

And the only thing Theodore had ever given me… was an artificial heart that brought nothing but agony.

While I was drowning in grief over my mother’s death, choking on blood and writhing in relentless pain, Rhea had been basking under the golden sun, sinking her feet into the soft sands of a private island.

My fingers trembled violently as I gripped the phone, nausea twisting in my gut. I stumbled to the side, my stomach lurching and dryheaved.

In my unsteady state, I accidentally knocked against a bookshelf. A dull thud echoed as something fell.

I reached down to pick it up, only to realize it wasn’t a book.

It was a disguised box.

Inside lay several "voluntary heart donation" agreements, each page whispering a silent, sinister truth. Stacks of remittance receipts sat neatly beside them.

The room tilted. My vision blurred.

So this was what my suffering had been worth.

Theodore had been sending large sums of money to the families of those donors every month, ensuring their support. The only condition? Their hearts belonged to him alone, reserved for Rhea whenever she needed one.

And at the very bottom of the stack, I found the last consent form.

Mine.

But the intended recipient had changed. It was no longer my mother. It was Rhea.

Back then, Theodore had handed me stacks of documents, claiming they were routine procedures. Desperate to get my mother into surgery, I had signed them all without hesitation.

This consent form must have been mixed in with the rest. My mother’s had probably been destroyed long ago.

Theodore, you truly spared no effort for Rhea.

I printed out the divorce agreement and sank onto the sofa, staring into the endless stretch of night, sleep a distant, unattainable thing.

By morning, Theodore simply assumed I had woken up early. He suspected nothing.

Perhaps because he had seen me coughing up blood again the night before, he made breakfast himself, a table filled with carefully arranged, nutritious dishes, each one an illusion of tenderness.

When Theodore saw me sitting quietly, he watched me with concern.

“Faye, why aren’t you eating? Are you feeling unwell?”

“Nothing, I just miss my mother.”

He sighed, his gaze softening.

“Faye, it’s not just you. I still think about Mom all the time. She was such a kind and gentle person. It’s my fault I couldn’t save her back then. I can still remember her holding my hand, telling us to be happy together.”

If only my mother had the strength to raise her hand back then. She would have used it to strangle him.

His feigned sincerity left nothing but contempt in its wake.

I was about to bring up the divorce, but Theodore casually continued.

“Faye, you’ve been feeling down lately. Today happens to be Rhea’s birthday and she’s just returned to the country. The family is having a gathering at the old residence. Why don’t we go? Maybe it’ll cheer you up.”

“I know you’ve never wanted to see her because of Mom, but that’s all in the past now. Rhea never meant for things to turn out that way… We’re all family, after all. She’s always been sensitive. If we don’t go, I’m afraid she’ll be upset.”

So, this was his true purpose today. All those words, just so he could see the one he truly loved.

I cut him off, my tone cold.

“Do as you like.”

Theodore smiled, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

“I knew my Faye was the most understanding.”

When we arrived at the old residence, I saw Rhea, dressed like a princess, clinging to my motherinlaw’s arm, acting coy and delighted.

My motherinlaw chuckled, indulging Rhea as she fed her neat slices of fruit.

She truly doted on Rhea, offering attention in every way possible.

The moment Rhea saw me, she smirked, turning to my motherinlaw with a voice as sweet as honey but dripping with mockery.

“Grandmother, you’ve fed me so much, I’m going to get fat. Now that Auntie’s here, why don’t you give the rest to her? After all, she doesn’t have a mother.”

My motherinlaw’s eyes shifted toward me, scanning me with disdain as she took in my plain outfit.

"Why are you here, you sickly thing? Are you trying to bring your misfortune and poverty into our home?"

"Our family has been in medicine for generations, yet you walk around looking like a beggar. You've embarrassed my son enough already. You've been married for years, haven't given him a child and you don’t even have a brain. Did your dead mother never teach you any manners?"

Theodore wasn’t Rhea’s biological father’s younger brother; he was a child brought into the family by his stepmother.

Afraid that her stepson wouldn't be valued, his stepmother had always pushed him to marry someone of equal status, someone who could support him.

When Rhea’s father died in a car accident, Theodore rose through his own merits to become the revered "Golden Scalpel," earning the respect of the family patriarch, who then entrusted the entire family business to him.

Only then did my motherinlaw grudgingly allow Theodore to marry me.

Because my health wasn’t suitable for pregnancy, my motherinlaw’s desire for a grandchild grew into increasing dissatisfaction with me.

In the past, Theodore would at least defend me a little, but now, his gaze was consumed by Rhea, full of barely disguised longing.

Rhea bounced over to him, her movements playful and light, wrapping her arm around his with a pout.

"Uncle, did you bring me a gift?"

Theodore pinched her cheek, affection dripping from his voice.

"Of course."

Servants wheeled in racks upon racks of luxurious haute couture gowns, each matched with equally extravagant jewelry sets.

Twentyeight is the number of Rhea’s birthdays.

Her eyes lit up as she planted a kiss on Theodore’s cheek.

"Wow, Uncle, you still love me the most! These are all limited editions! Uncle, you’ve really spoiled me. What if someone else gets jealous?"

It was only then that Theodore seemed to remember my presence. In the face of such opulence, my simple outfit felt like a cruel mockery.

In all these years, he had never once remembered my birthday, let alone gifted me anything as grand as a designer dress or exquisite jewelry.

He looked slightly uncomfortable, then reached for my hand as if to explain.

"Faye, don’t overthink this. I’m just her uncle; I only," Before he could finish, Rhea suddenly clutched her chest, a frown tugging at her brows.

"Uncle, my heart feels strange… I don’t know if my condition is acting up again…"

Theodore immediately let go of my hand and turned to her, his face tight with worry.

"Why is your chest feeling tight all of a sudden? Does it hurt? No, I need to check on you right away."

Without another word, he swept her into his arms, rushing upstairs in front of all the guests, his back to me.

The whispers around me were like daggers, their mocking glances cutting deeper than words.

"No wonder Theodore would rather buy Rhea all those gowns and jewels but won’t even get her a single thing. A woman of such low birth isn’t worthy of being the daughterinlaw of the Dmitri family, let alone deserving anything fine."

"If not for his socalled uncleniece relationship with Rhea, why would he have ever married her? I bet she used her mother’s death to manipulate him into this marriage. Shameless! She’d even step over her own mother’s corpse just to climb into high society."

The murmurs grew louder, their voices sharp as knives. My motherinlaw, clearly embarrassed, snapped at me.

"What are you still standing here for, disgracing us? Get upstairs this instant! Haven’t you humiliated us enough already?"

"My son was kind enough to agree to operate on your dead mother; it was her fortune to have that chance! If she was too useless to survive, how is that his fault? You should be grateful instead of trying to extort him. You’ll get what’s coming to you one day!"

I clenched my fists beneath my sleeves, forcing out a bitter smile.

Yes, meeting Theodore had already been the worst retribution I could ever receive.

Thinking of the divorce papers hidden in my bag, I didn’t argue. Without another word, I turned and made my way upstairs to find Theodore.

But as I reached the secondfloor balcony, I was met with a sight that froze me in my tracks. There they were, Theodore and Rhea, wrapped in each other’s arms.

Rhea leaned against the railing, her hands twining around Theodore’s neck.

"Theodore, listen, does my heart still feel uneasy?"

"Rhea, we can’t…"

Theodore’s voice was tight with restraint, yet the way his tailored trousers clung to him left nothing to the imagination.

Rhea pressed her lips to his, her voice thick with seduction.

"Don’t you want me, Theodore? I know your heart belongs to me and mine is yours. Even if you married someone else to keep up appearances, your body still belongs to me. Let’s just indulge ourselves, just this once…"

Theodore couldn’t hold back any longer. Gripping the back of her head, he kissed her fiercely.

The sound of fabric tearing echoed in the air, followed by breathy moans too shameful to hear.

Listening to Theodore's unbearably sweet words, my tears burst forth uncontrollably. Covering my mouth, I bolted from the villa.

I didn’t know how long I had been sitting at the entrance when a bowl of scalding hot instant noodles splashed onto my chest. The pain seared through me, making me shudder.

Rhea had changed into new clothes and now she stood before me, a bottle of whiskey in hand.

"Faye, did you enjoy our little scene? Watching you run away, looking like a stray dog, was almost amusing."

So, she had seen me.

"I heard your body doesn’t handle the artificial heart well. Coughing up blood, chest pains, you must be in agony, huh? You can’t even enjoy a man’s love properly. But me? No matter how intense it gets, I can handle it. You’re just a cripple, but at least your heart was good for something. I owe you one. Thanks for the fun."

"You really thought you could marry my little uncle and steal his love from me? Keep dreaming. He only has me in his heart. You were nothing but a living organ container for me."

"Oh, and by the way, that wasn’t the first time your mother caught me with your fiancé. The old hag had the nerve to call me shameless. So, of course, I had to teach her a lesson. I tied her up and made sure she watched me with him right in front of her eyes. She was so furious, she had a heart attack."

"When you were about to give her a heart transplant, I faked chest pains. As I expected, your husband felt so guilty; he didn’t hesitate for a second; he gave me your heart instead."

"By the way, you were unconscious then, so you didn’t see your mother’s face. Her arms stretched out, her eyes wide with rage, as if she wanted to strangle us both. But too bad, she could only watch helplessly as her own anger drove her to her death. Serves her right! She insulted me, so I took her life in return!"

My eyes widened in disbelief.

I had never imagined that this was the true reason behind my mother’s death.

My body trembled, helpless against the shock. How could they be so shameless? How could they murder my mother and still talk about it with such righteous conviction?

I raised my hand, ready to strike, but before I could, Rhea dumped the whiskey over her head, letting out a dramatic scream.

The next instant, someone shoved me violently to the ground.

Theodore was there, holding Rhea protectively, his eyes blazing as he turned to roar at me, "Faye! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

With tears in her eyes, Rhea sobbed, "Uncle, I only wanted to bring her some food and drinks since she hadn’t eaten anything. But she accused me of causing her mother’s death, knocked over the food and even poured alcohol all over me. If you hadn’t come when you did, she might have killed me!"

"The noodles and whiskey were my idea," Rhea added, feigning distress. "I know they weren’t fancy, but it was from the heart. And now I’ve even burned myself with the hot water..."

Theodore’s expression darkened at once.

"Faye, your mother had a heart attack because she wasn’t strong enough to handle it. She shouldn’t have interfered with your love life. Before marriage, it’s normal for people to change their minds. Rhea was only being kind to you and instead of appreciating that, you’re blaming her for everything?"

I couldn’t believe the absurdity of his words.

"Theodore, tell me the truth. How did my mother really die? Did you really give my heart to her?"

Theodore’s face tightened with frustration.

"Of course. Didn’t I already explain? Your mother’s transplant was rejected. Heart transplants are risky. Don’t you get that? And now you’re turning Rhea into the villain. Apologize to her. Now."

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing.

Tears began to fall, the weight of it all crashing down on me.

This was the man I had loved for seven years. And yet, he wouldn’t even be honest with me.

In a haze of despair, I grabbed the whiskey bottle from the ground. I didn’t care that the mouth of the bottle had shattered; I poured the remaining liquor down my throat, the sharp glass cutting into my lips as I drank.

The moment the alcohol hit my stomach, a searing pain radiated through my chest and I stumbled, gasping for air.

Theodore’s eyes widened in shock as he urgently called out, "Faye, you can’t drink alcohol! Stop now!"

I threw the bottle to the ground and flashed him a smile.

"Theodore, you’re right. How could I possibly reject such a heartfelt gesture? So, I drank it all up, just as you intended. Happy now?"

With those words, I turned on my heel and walked away, leaving him behind.

Theodore reached out to grab me, but Rhea quickly stepped in his way.

"Uncle, my chest hurts again. I don’t know if it’s because Auntie scared me earlier…"

Theodore’s eyes lingered on my retreating figure for a moment, his hesitation palpable, but he didn’t chase after me.

That night, Theodore never came back.

I packed up all my things, set them on fire and watched the flames consume everything.

It wasn’t until the next day that he finally called me.

"Faye, I was wrong yesterday. I know your mother’s death is a deep wound and I shouldn’t have said those things."

"But Rhea’s heart isn’t strong. I’m worried something will happen to her and I won’t be able to explain it to her family. As her uncle, I need to take care of her."

I replied, my voice cold and distant, "It’s okay. I was impulsive yesterday. You should take care of her."

"You drank yesterday, so your chest must hurt. I’ll arrange for you to get a new artificial heart tomorrow. Rest tonight and I’ll come get you in the morning."

"Okay."

But the next morning, Theodore didn’t show up.

It didn’t matter. Not every goodbye had to be spoken in person.

I placed the divorce papers on the table and walked out the door.

At the hospital entrance, Theodore called again, his voice full of regret.

"Sorry, Faye, I have a patient who needs urgent surgery. I won’t be able to give you the transplant until tonight. I’ll send an assistant to pick you up."

"Tomorrow is our seventh wedding anniversary. After the transplant, I’ll take you out for something nice."

It was the perfect excuse, one that could easily cover up a lie.

What Theodore didn’t know was that Rhea had already sent me a message.

After being drenched in wine by “me” the day before, ruining her dress, Theodore, in an attempt to make amends, had taken her to a jewelry auction. He’d planned to buy her the final piece, a oneofakind pink diamond necklace, the last of its kind in the world.

It was the first time he remembered our wedding anniversary, but it was for another woman.

"Okay, I was actually planning to give you a gift, too."

"Really? I can’t wait to see it."

After hanging up, I took one last glance at the sky, then walked into the hospital without a second look back.

Theodore, goodbye.

On the other side, after securing the necklace for Rhea, Theodore took her out for a candlelit dinner. Only after that did they rush to the hospital.

Upon arriving, they found out Faye hadn’t shown up yet.

He glanced at the clock. It was already 00:00.

Why hadn’t Faye come yet?

Just as he was about to call, his assistant came rushing over, holding a box.

"Mr. Dmitri, your wife isn’t home. Someone just delivered this. They said it’s a gift from your wife to you."