Drugged by My Husband, I Took His Billionaire Empire

My husband, Ethan Vance, loved me to the bone.

To marry me, he once swore a solemn oath. "If I ever betray Rowan, let me lose everything and end up with nothing." After we married, he indeed put me first in everything.

During my third trimester, when I suffered from severe insomnia, he even hired a professional sleep therapist just for me. I told everyone that this was what true love looked like.

But my doctor recently told me otherwise. "Ma'am, the level of sleeping pills in your system is dangerously high.

If you keep taking them, it could be lifethreatening." I froze in shock. I had never bought or taken sleeping pills in my life.

With trembling hands, I opened the security camera playback at home. Only then did I realize that the socalled "sleep therapist" was a complete fraud.

Every night, she used her sweet, gentle voice to coax me into drinking milk laced with sleeping pills, and the moment I fell asleep, she crawled into my husband's bed.

Watching the two of them tangled together on the screen, I threw up everything in my stomach. Ethan had probably told so many lies that he forgot his own oath.

Since that's the case, I'll make sure his promise comes true. I had just finished a full body checkup at the private clinic owned by my best friend, Chloe.

After walking home like a ghost, my phone vibrated twice.

It was Chloe sending me two blood test reports. "No gynecological issues." "But the level of benzodiazepines in your blood is dangerously high." "Fortunately, the dosage was carefully controlled, so you and the baby aren't affected." My mind went blank.

I didn't feel lucky at all. Carefully controlled so there was no damage. But what if they hadn't controlled it well? Would my baby and I both be dead by now?

The phone slipped from my palm, hitting the carpet with a dull thud. I slowly looked down at my hands.

Just last month, these hands were so swollen from the late stage of my pregnancy that I couldn't even hold a glass.

Back then, I couldn't sleep at all, tossing and turning all night.

Ethan would hold me tightly, looking at me with pure heartache. "Rowan, I spent weeks looking for a toptier sleep therapist. It breaks my heart to see you like this.

Let's just let her try, okay?" He told me Delilah Thorne was a certified sleep specialist who had studied abroad. He said she was gentle, patient, and highly professional.

And Delilah was indeed gentle. Every night, she would come to my bedroom right on time.

She would light aromatherapy candles, play soft music, gently massage my temples, and whisper, "Mrs. Vance, drink this warm milk.

You'll fall asleep soon." I drank that milk every single night for two months. From my eighth month of pregnancy, through labor, and into my postpartum recovery.

I thought it was my husband's sweet devotion—the warmest light in my difficult pregnancy. It turned out to be poison. How could he trust an outsider so easily?

How could he be so coldblooded and ruthless? What if the baby had been born with birth defects? What if she had a more sinister motive and secretly changed the medication?

Dark thoughts choked my heart like strangling vines. Cold sweat broke out all over my body. I had to lean against the wall to slowly slide down.

My stomach suddenly churned violently. The champagne, the cake, and the exquisite food from tonight's banquet all rushed up to my throat.

I leaned over the trash can and threw up until tears streamed down my face. On my phone, the security footage was still playing. Delilah's voice drifted out: "Mrs. Vance?

Are you asleep?" On the screen, I was sleeping on my side with my heavily pregnant belly. Delilah was holding the cup of milk, of which I had only taken a few sips.

Once she made sure I was fast asleep, the gentle smile faded from her face. She pulled out her phone and sent a Snapchat message.

Less than five minutes later, Ethan pushed the door open and walked in. He was wearing the silk pajamas I had bought for him, and he let Delilah throw herself into his arms.

He smiled, wrapped his hands around her waist, and kissed her deeply. It felt like acid was pouring directly into my heart, leaving a burning, agonizing ache.

Ethan had installed this camera early in my pregnancy. He said he was worried about me being home alone and wanted to be able to check on me from his office at any time.

At the time, I had teased him for being overly dramatic and never once opened the app myself. This was the first time.

And it was the first time I realized how crystal clear the footage was. So clear that I could see Ethan reaching out to unbutton Delilah's shirt.

I could see Delilah whispering something in his ear with a smirk.

I could see Ethan glancing sideways at me, sleeping soundly on the bed, a careless, indifferent smile curling his lips.

That smile was like a sharp knife, stabbing precisely into my heart. Three years of marriage. Ethan always came home on time and never went to afterwork drinking parties.

He never missed a single prenatal checkup. He took perfect care of my parents during the holidays.

Everyone in our circle praised him, saying Ethan Vance was a rare, perfect husband. I had almost believed it myself.

The footage kept playing. Lacking the patience to watch it slowly, I began skipping through the days. Two months. Fiftyeight days.

Almost every single day, after Delilah coaxed me to sleep, Ethan would appear.

Sometimes they did it on the sofa, sometimes on the balcony, and sometimes he even sat right by my bed, holding Delilah's hand.

One night, because the baby was kicking violently, I woke up in a daze and mumbled, "Ethan..." On screen, Ethan and Delilah were tangled together. Hearing my voice, he froze.

He patted Delilah's back, signaling her to hide. He walked over to the bed, gently touched my forehead, and spoke in a voice so tender it could melt iron. "Babe, what's wrong?

Are you feeling unwell?" I mumbled that my leg was cramping. He immediately knelt down and massaged my leg for a full halfhour. Until I fell asleep again.

Then he stood up, walked to the curtain where Delilah was hiding, pulled her out, and kissed her deeply. Seeing this, I leaned over and gagged again.

My stomach was completely empty, and I could only throw up bitter bile. Tears dripped onto my phone screen, blurring the image of the two twisted lovers.

Everyone in high society used to think that I, Rowan Shaw, was the luckiest woman in the world. Great family background, beautiful, graduated from an Ivy League university.

For the sake of love, I gave up a career opportunity in London and married a man of equal social standing who absolutely adored me.

But they had no idea that beneath the glamorous facade of happiness lay a web of countless lies. When I was ten, my father had an affair with our divorced livein housekeeper.

When my mother found out, she set fire to the bed they used for their cheap trysts.

She smiled at my father and asked: "Shall we die together?" For the first time, pure terror appeared in my father's eyes.

He fell to his knees and begged her for forgiveness, admitting he was wrong. Standing outside the door, I didn't cry or make a sound. I just used my smartwatch to call Aunt Clara.

I watched Aunt Clara rush in and stop my mother. I watched the housekeeper get thrown out on the street. I watched my father sign a confession and a postnuptial agreement.

Everything went back to normal, as if that day was just a bad dream. But after that, my mother never held my father's hand again.

She never called to ask him to come home early from business dinners. She would only stroke my hair gently and say, "Rowan, men are unreliable.

In the end, you can only rely on yourself." I had been an observant child. My mother had married beneath her social class.

Her massive dowry had helped my father's company survive and thrive more than once.

Yet, even though she was beautiful, came from an elite family, and loved him with all her heart... Even though they had a sweet, cute daughter like me...

He still chose to cheat on her with a middleaged, divorced housekeeper who couldn't help him in any way and only drained his money.

Perhaps I inherited my father's cold rationality, combined with my mother's realistic teachings. From the very beginning, I didn't expect much from marriage.

I was used to making the most calculated, optimal decisions in any situation.

In the Vance family, Ethan's generation was thin on heirs, and the patriarch, Grandpa Arthur, was getting very old.

Whoever gave birth to the first male heir would secure the ultimate power in the family empire.

Although I hated dealing with the complex politics of wealthy families, Aunt Clara's words had woken me up: "Do you think marrying a middleclass guy means you won't have to deal with inlaw drama and family bullshit?" "Rowan, it's all the same.

You might as well marry into the ultimate wealth. At least then, you have a shot at real power." I couldn't agree more.

So, when the Vance family chose me for an arranged marriage, I didn't hesitate to give up my plans to study abroad in London. I married Ethan.

I thought it would take some effort to win Ethan over, but he fell in love with me at first sight.

I only had to smile, and he would shower me with the kind of devotion other women could only dream of. Even if his love was partly an act, I had inevitably fallen for him over time.

But who else had been fooled by his acting besides me? I picked up the confidential will on the table and let out a cold laugh.

Earlier today, when Grandpa Arthur handed me this will, my baby boy was giggling in his arms.

The old man was so thrilled that he added another two hundred million dollars to my inheritance on the spot. "Ethan married a wonderful wife and got a beautiful son." "Rowan, he's been completely devoted to you for three years and hasn't let you suffer a single grievance.

I'm transferring this will to you. I'm sure even when he finds out, he won't be angry." "Your parents have a harmonious marriage, and you are an only child.

A child raised in such a stable family is bound to have a great character and capability." "Most importantly, you were willing to sacrifice your own career in London for Ethan." "My health is failing fast.

I can rest easy knowing the Vance family's future is in your hands." I wiped the corners of my mouth, erasing the tears from my face. See?

Sometimes, playing the part of a perfect family has its perks. At least my father's facade of a "harmonious marriage" did me a favor.

No matter what, I would never let my child grow up the way I did—trapped in a marriage that looked perfect on the outside but was slowly rotting from within.

My sole purpose in gaining power was to ensure my child would never follow in my footsteps. Just as I tucked the will away, Ethan returned from the family mansion.

Smelling the faint, unpleasant scent of vomit in the room, he didn't show an ounce of disgust.

Instead, he rushed over anxiously, touching my forehead to check my temperature while calling his best friend, Caleb, who was a doctor. "Why did you throw up?

Let me see." Thinking about how this exact hand had been sliding all over Delilah's body last night, I instinctively frowned and stepped back.

Startled by the disgust in my eyes, Ethan froze for a fraction of a second. But he quickly recovered his gentle mask. "What's wrong, honey? Did you push yourself too hard today?

You look so pale." Because I valued my appearance, even when I gained weight and broke out during pregnancy, he never used words like "ugly" or "out of shape." I looked at this familiar yet utterly foreign face.

A sharp, annoying ache flared in my chest. Actions speak louder than words. Ethan's care and pampering had indeed made my pregnancy very comfortable.

Even if it was an act, I had genuinely enjoyed it. If I hadn't genuinely fallen in love with him, perhaps I would have been willing to play along with him forever.

But I was not my mother. I could not tolerate betrayal. "Yeah, I'm exhausted. It's all your fault." Ethan scooped me up in his arms. "I'll clean this up.

Go back to bed and rest." Who would have thought that the arrogant young heir of the Vance family, who had never lifted a finger in his life, would wash my delicate clothes, cook for me, and even hold a trash can while I threw up during pregnancy?

If this wasn't love, what was? "Delilah will be here in a bit to help you sleep.

This is a critical time for your postpartum recovery, so I'm planning to have her stay with us for a while." "With her around, I'll feel more at peace." My heart was instantly doused in freezing water.

So, he wanted her to move in just to seek cheap thrills under my nose.

Yet, he still had the audacity to frame it as if he were doing it all for my own good. "Sure." Since he wanted to play, I didn't mind gathering more evidence.

When Delilah pushed the door open to enter, Ethan was right beside her. She handed me a glass of warm milk and smiled at Ethan. "Rowan, Ethan is so sweet to you.

He even added honey to your milk himself." "Ethan, I heard you two have been married for three years.

Do you have any secrets to share on how to keep the spark alive?" Ethan's eyes softened with a complex gaze. "Guilt." "Every time I look at her, I remember that she could have been living a glamorous life studying in London.

Instead, she chose to stay with me, managing complicated social circles and keeping our business running flawlessly even while heavily pregnant." "True love is always feeling like you owe your partner.

I guess that's my secret to keeping a marriage alive." Delilah watched him, her eyes practically sparkling with admiration.

A young, worshipping look like that—no man could resist it. I smiled and let out a fake yawn.

Once I pretended to fall asleep under Delilah's guidance, the two of them immediately started kissing right in front of me.

Delilah whispered breathlessly, "What you said just now was so beautiful, Ethan.

I was almost moved to tears." "I just wonder... if Rowan knew that all those sweet words you say to her were actually suggested by me, would she die of a broken heart?" Ethan suddenly grabbed her neck, warning her in a harsh, quiet voice: "Watch your mouth.

If Rowan ever finds out, I will make your life a living hell." Delilah wasn't scared at all.

She smirked. "A living hell... or heaven in your bed?" With just one sentence, Ethan's anger vanished. "You little temptress..." He eagerly picked her up and carried her out of the room.

I opened my eyes and spat the milk into a tissue. I opened my phone, went to the security app, watched their wild tryst, and took screenshot after screenshot.

A few days later, his best friend Caleb came over to give me a checkup. "She's recovering wonderfully.

You can stop the medication now." "If she's recovering so well, why did she throw up?

Did you check her thoroughly?" Caleb joked, "Maybe she found out about your little affair and was disgusted by you." Ethan's voice grew dead serious. "She won't find out." "Don't be so sure.

You're playing with fire right under her nose. It's only a matter of time." "You chased her so hard back then. You even quit smoking just to prep for pregnancy.

It's only been three years—have you really lost feelings for her?" "I haven't lost feelings. It's just that marriage gets too boring.

I need some excitement." Caleb shook his head. "Just don't ruin yourself.

Once a woman's heart is completely broken, she can detach in a heartbeat." "Anyway, on a serious note, the old man is fading fast.

I estimate he only has a few months left." "Once he passes, the Vance Group's board meeting will be called immediately." Ethan fell silent for a few seconds. "I'm sending Delilah away today.

At this crucial moment, nothing can go wrong with my marriage." Hearing the car engine start downstairs, I opened the security app again.

But I realized that Delilah had already been standing outside the door, listening to their entire conversation. An ominous feeling crept into my chest.

I walked over to my desk and made a phone call. In reality, besides the will, Grandpa Arthur had given me another trump card.

The next morning, Ethan woke me up in a rush. "Grandpa is dying.

We need to go to the hospital to see him one last time." When we got down to the car, Ethan opened the passenger door for me. But I froze.

The image of him and Delilah fooling around in this very car flashed through my mind.

Ethan suddenly slammed the door shut, trapping me between his body and the car. "What's wrong?" "Do you think I'm dirty?

Are you repulsed by me?" "Rowan, you know about me and Delilah, don't you?" My breath caught in my throat.

In the next second, Ethan pulled a medical report out of his pocket. "Honey, we've been married for three years.

I know every single one of your habits." "When you're angry, you stop talking. When you're moved, your eyes get red.

When you lie, your breathing hitches." "You've never rejected my touch, but last night and right now, you instinctively shrank away from me." His rough thumb brushed against my cheek. "Why that face?

Guilty?" I swallowed hard, then suddenly laughed. "I'm not the one who cheated. Why should I feel guilty?" "Since you know, good.

After we see Grandpa, we're getting a divorce." "And what if I say no?" "Then I will leak the footage of you and Delilah to the media." Ethan let out a dark laugh and shoved me into the car. "Rowan, I really underestimated you." "You want a divorce?

But you are such a brilliant wife. I can't bear to let you go." The car sped toward the hospital, but we still didn't make it in time to see Grandpa one last time.

As we walked out of the hospital, Ethan forced me into his car, drove me to a secluded suburban villa, and locked me inside. "Until the board meeting is over, you aren't going anywhere." I ran toward the door like crazy, but he violently dragged me back.

My fists rained down on his chest. "You are the one who betrayed me! How dare you think you can control me?" My fist grazed his jaw.

He wiped his lip, his eyes turning icy. "Because I am now the head of the Vance family, Rowan.

Women are better off when they're obedient." "Your father's company relies on the Vance Group for almost all of its major projects. And you gave up your own career for me.

If you leave me, where do you think you can go?" I stared at him in disbelief. "Is that your justification for cheating?

Because you think I have no choice but to stay?" He smiled carelessly. "Silly girl, what man doesn't stray?" "As long as you accept Delilah and stay quiet as Mrs.

Vance, I promise she will never show her face in front of you." "Even if she has a baby in the future, it won't affect your status." I wrapped my arms around his neck and asked: "If you break things off with her completely, I'm willing to start over with you." But Ethan pulled my hands away without hesitation. "Rowan, she gives me the thrill that you never could." "I'm not like my grandfather.

I don't care about 'pure bloodlines' to inherit the company." "The more children, the better. Even if they're born out of wedlock." Suddenly, footsteps echoed from downstairs.

A smirk played on my lips. "Ethan, do you remember the vow you made on our wedding day?" He froze, then smiled. "Of course.

I said I'd love you forever." "Not that one." "You said if you ever betrayed me, you would walk away with absolutely nothing and spend the rest of your life in regret." In the next second, the door was kicked open.

Grandpa Arthur sat in a wheelchair, with a crowd of Vance Group shareholders standing right behind him. "We will hold the board meeting right here today!"