She Misspelled Her Worth for His Last Name Novel – “Ma’am, Sir Brynn is eagerly awaiting your arrival here in Bonneville. Have you made your decision? If you agree to marry him, your identity will be erased. No one from here, not your family or your friends, will ever be able to find you again.” Ayla Wynn rubbed her wrists. The burns were raw and bleeding from the rope that had bound them, but there was nothing more painful than the memory distracting her.
For a decade, she had been the happiest in Maine with Bennett Duffield, the man she had known that long and fallen in love with for five years. Not once in her life had she ever imagined sharing that love with two strangers whose presences were another way of saying—she was not enough. It all started a few years ago when Bennett returned from a business trip with a kid named Aston, the son of the person who had saved the tycoon’s life once. Overwhelmed by gratitude, the CEO decided to repay the kindness by being the boy’s father figure.
To give Aston what he called a complete family, Bennett forced his own fiancée to endure miscarriage—eight times over the course of three years. Even then, Aston never once saw Ayla as a mother figure. He only ever called one woman his mommy—Vayda Abshire, the one Bennett pretended to marry for the sake of the kid. To keep that boy happy, Bennett even had Vayda move into the same master bedroom he slept with Ayla. The fantasy almost cost Ayla’s life. Once, on a picnic trip, robbers ambushed their car.
To distract the masked men, Bennett pushed her out of the car while he escaped with Vayda and Aston. He left Ayla behind to be stabbed—ninety-nine times. And on what was supposed to be their wedding day, Aston pleaded, “Daddy, I don’t want anyone to replace Mommy!” That was all it took for Bennett to tear off Ayla’s wedding gown, drag her to an abandoned warehouse, tie her to a post, and leave her there with the livestream of him kissing Vayda at the altar. Ayla was three months pregnant then. Recalling all that, she let out a painful laugh.
‘They’re my supposed-to-be husband’s real family now while I’m just… no one,’ she realized. With that, she gripped her phone tighter and nodded. “There’s nothing left for me here.” “Got it, ma’am,” Callan, the Raffertys’ most trusted man, replied. “The paperwork should be finalized within seven days. Everything’s been prepared for your wedding. Sir Brynn will be thrilled when he hears you agreed, ma’am.”