Chapter 1 Winford’s Fourth Wife
Ophelia Greene was betrayed by her stepsister Bessie Greene and the love of her life, Cullen Pruitt.
To help them claim the inheritance, Ophelia married a man she despised.
Eventually, she discovered it had all been a lie.
With a triumphant smile, Bessie said, “Ophelia, we’re finally getting rid of you. Do you know how much we hate you?
“You’re so ugly. I still don’t get why Winford liked you. And he even died for you!”
Her words dripped with jealousy.
Ophelia’s eyes widened. “What? My husband is dead?”
“Yeah, he’s dead. Now it’s your turn,” Bessie said, holding a gun to her temple.
The gunshot rang out, and Ophelia dropped to the ground.
***
Roger Riddle slammed the brakes, bringing the black sedan to a sudden stop at the intersection. In the back seat, Ophelia’s eyes snapped open.
“Ms. Ophelia, get out now. Mr. Cullen is waiting for you over there.”
Roger’s voice snapped her out of her daze.
Her back was drenched in cold sweat. She was sure the bullet had killed her.
She touched her face, smooth with no burn marks. Then she looked around, trying to make sense of it.
Roger urged, “Ms. Ophelia?”
“Just keep driving.”
He froze, then stammered, “But Mr. Winford Pruitt is so sick he’s barely holding on. If you go there, you’ll walk straight into trouble.”
“You heard me. Take me to Sunset Vista,” Ophelia replied, her voice shaky but firm.
Inside, she was more than thrilled.
Winford had left Kingchester for Minston to focus on his health, planning to stay for a year. She realized this was the day she moved into Sunset Vista after marrying him, honoring her mother’s promise to his family.
Thinking of Winford brought tears to her eyes.
In her past life, she feared and avoided him, yet he was the only one who truly cared for her.
And Ophelia even betrayed him, dragging him down. But in the end, he died to protect her.
Ophelia blinked back her tears.
This was the same day Bessie manipulated her into eloping with Cullen.
Through the rearview mirror, her bloodshot eyes met Roger’s.
She knew he worked for Bessie.
Startled, Roger stammered, “O-okay, we’re heading to Sunset Vista now.”
Her phone buzzed with a message.
Bessie: “Ophelia, leave with Cullen. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Hatred flickered in Ophelia’s eyes as she read it. She turned off her phone without a second thought.
The car rolled on, and she grew restless.
Twenty minutes later, they arrived at Sunset Vista.
On the second floor, Winford sat tall in his wheelchair, watching the car come to a stop below.
“Mr. Winford, that’s Ms. Ophelia,” said the man next to him.
He was Graham Burnet, Winford’s assistant.
Winford glanced down. “How many have come before her this month?”
Graham hesitated, then said, “Three. She’s the fourth.”
Winford had announced his search for a wife in the city. Ophelia was his fourth in just a month.
The first bride lasted a week before dying.
The second went insane within two days.
And the third refused to come, screaming she would rather die than marry Winford.
Glenda Pruitt, his grandmother, was deeply worried. After much thought, she decided to let him marry Ophelia, though the engagement was nothing more than a verbal promise.
But then Winford told the family the engagement was off. So why was Ophelia here now?
Graham thought, “None of his wives lasted. With his reputation, I thought she’d run. This is unbelievable.”
“Let’s go,” Winford said in his deep voice.
Ophelia sat nervously on the sofa, her suitcase beside her.
The elevator doors opened, and her heart skipped. She turned and saw Winford in his wheelchair.
His legs were injured in an accident days earlier, leaving him unable to walk for now. Graham wheeled him out to her.
Winford’s face was pale yet handsome. With his deep eyes, he exuded calm nobility.
Ophelia stood up awkwardly, her eyes red with guilt.
His face hardened as his interest faded.
“Someone, show Ms. Ophelia out,” he called out.
“She’s also forced by her family. Not again. I’m not that desperate,” he thought.
“Hold on,” Ophelia blurted and moved closer to him.
He turned to her, his gaze unreadable. “What?”
His presence remained sharp and commanding even when he was seated.
“I… I’ve married you. So I’m staying,” she said firmly.
She owed him far too much. This second chance was hers to make it right.
Ophelia’s thoughts lingered on the truth she had learned in the final moments of her previous life. Tears welled in her eyes.
A brief silence fell between them.
“You’re staying?” Winford asked in disbelief.
Women had always avoided him like the plague. She was the first to say that.
He met her gaze—her bright eyes showed no reluctance, only unease, nervousness, and probably guilt.
It would be a lie to say he wasn’t moved at this moment.
A tense silence hung in the air as he considered his response.
