Sham Marriage Quit Real Heiress Strikes Back novel Chapter 1

"I'm sorry, Ms. Sterling, but according to our system, there's no legal record of your marriage to Mr. Hawthorne."

The woman behind the counter at the County Clerk's Office slid the paperwork back across to Elena Sterling.

Her tone was professional, but the faint smirk at the corner of her mouth made it feel personal.

Elena blinked, stunned. "That's impossible."

She and Nathan Hawthorne had been married for five years. He'd always treated her like she mattered. If he hadn't, she wouldn't have spent her twenty-fifth birthday finally updating her records and listing him as her emergency contact.

The clerk didn't respond. She just looked at Elena with flat, practiced indifference. Like she was another woman chasing a story that existed only in her head.

But county officials don't just make this stuff up.

A chill crept down Elena's spine. The shock was finally sinking in—something was wrong, deeply wrong. There had to be some kind of mistake, and she needed to hear it straight from Nathan.

But before she could even call him, her editor, Andy Boyd, beat her to it.

"Elena, there's been a crash on Evermist Avenue. Get there now."

"Andy, I'm in the middle of something—"

"It's Nathan's car."

Elena froze. Nathan had told her just yesterday that he was flying out for a business trip.

A strange, hollow feeling opened up in her chest. Maybe this accident would give her the answers she wasn't getting anywhere else.

She got the location from Andy, grabbed the first cab she could find, and headed out. By the time she arrived, the street was crawling with press. Her assistant was already waiting.

And there it was.

A mangled Rolls-Royce Phantom. The license plate was impossible to miss. It was Nathan's!

Elena's stomach clenched. She pushed through the crowd, eyes locked on the scene ahead. Paramedics were still working to extract the injured from the wreck.

And then she saw him. Nathan.

He looked terrible. His face was streaked with blood, his white dress shirt soaked in it. Over it, he wore the black suit she'd picked out for him just last month.

She instinctively stepped forward—but before she could call his name, another stretcher came into view.

And lying on it was Camille Hart, Nathan's first love.

Unlike Nathan, Camille looked barely scratched. Just a gash on her forehead. She was gripping a paramedic's jacket, trying to sit up.

"Is Nathan okay? Please, tell me he's okay!"

Someone whispered nearby, "Isn't that Camille? The war correspondent? Didn't she just come back from an overseas assignment? D*mn, she's intense."

"Dude, I saw the scene. Her head was, like... in his lap. What do you think they were doing?"

"Wait, what? But Nathan's married!"

Yeah, he was—at least, that's what she had always believed. Five years of marriage. Five years spent thinking her life was real, that she was happy. But now? The man who said he was out of town was just found in the backseat of a car with another woman—doing s*x.

Elena just stood there, motionless. Nathan and Camille were loaded into the ambulance and taken away.

She stayed where she was, holding her umbrella as rain misted around her, watching the red lights fade in the distance.

"Elena... should we still go live?" her assistant asked cautiously.

"We go live," Elena said coldly.

She instructed her assistant to start filming.

The car was mangled, but the story was explosive. Anything involving the Hawthornes was instant headline material—and she was going to make sure the world knew exactly what kind of people Nathan and Camille were.

The livestream took off within minutes.

Elena's breath caught. These familiar names, Malcolm and Vivian—her adoptive parents!

She had learned on her eighteenth birthday that she wasn't their biological child. She was the real daughter of the Hart family, switched at birth. Camille had grown up in her place.

Shortly after the truth came to light, she was taken back by the Harts. But Camille never returned to Malcolm and Vivian's side.

Malcolm and Vivian had tried to welcome Camille back, but Camille had rejected them, dismissing their background and playing the emotional card—saying she "couldn't handle the truth."

Helpless, Malcolm and Vivian had no choice but to agree—especially with the Hart family's firm insistence. And so, Camille went on living under the Harts' roof.

But even after their deaths, Camille hadn't called, hadn't sent a message. Nothing.

Elena had handled the entire funeral by herself. And now, surprisingly, they'd left everything to her.

"I'll need to verify that," she said, keeping her voice steady.

"Of course," the lawyer replied. "I'll email the documents immediately. Once you've reviewed them, we can proceed."

He wasn't lying. Within minutes, the paperwork arrived in her inbox.

She clicked on it and many documents were revealed. The will, notarized. Records, photos, signatures. Vivian had been a deputy director at a national research institute. Malcolm... a member of the old-money Sterling family.

Everything was real. Elena read it all twice. Then called the lawyer back.

"I'm available tomorrow morning."

"Miss Sterling... did you read all of the documents carefully?" the man asked, his tone a bit hesitant.

"What do you mean?"

She scrolled down again, afraid of missing something. Sure enough, she did. A final clause. Her eyes suddenly widened.

"The full estate will be transferred under the condition that the beneficiary marries Alexander Kingsley, eldest son of the Kingsley family."