Crippled By The Fake Heiress — And She Regretted It Chapter 03
Late that night, after Alessio fell asleep, I reached for the phone on his nightstand. The passcode was my birthday.
The first pinned chat was me, followed by my parents. I scrolled through everything but found nothing unusual.
Not until I tried switching accounts—and discovered Alessio had a second profile. The chat list contained only one contact: Gina.
[Alessio, it’s been five years. How much longer do I have to hide?]
[She doesn’t have the evidence of me hitting her anymore, and she’s a cripple. She’s no threat whatsoever.]
[Our son keeps crying for his daddy. How can you bear it?]
Alessio had reassured her: [Dad and I are already working out a plan. Don’t be impatient.]
So—they’d already brought Gina back to the country days ago. They’d given her a new name and even registered a real estate company in it.
In five days, the ribbon-cutting ceremony would take place.
My hands trembling, I opened Moments.
Looking at photo after photo, my heart grew cold inch by inch. For the past five years, they’d sent Gina abroad, where she’d been living lavishly.
The clothes she wore were from the Scarla family’s luxury brands. The villa she lived in was a Scarla family property overseas.
For five years, every time Alessio claimed he was on a business trip, he’d flown to be with her. And there in those photos—my own biological parents, beaming with radiant smiles.
In that instant, I finally understood. They were the real family. I’d never been part of it.
I fought back the stinging tears, took screenshots of everything, and switched back to his main account.
Only then did I notice Alessio had changed his status signature. It used to be a single word: [Wait].
When I’d asked what it meant, he’d smiled and said he was waiting for my legs to heal.
But now his signature read: [Homecoming].
I finally understood. “Wait” was waiting for Gina to come back. “Homecoming” meant it was time for her to return.
I placed the phone back on his nightstand and wheeled myself to the balcony to make a call.
“Hello—I’d like to book a flight overseas, five days from now.”
Five days. That was more than enough time to say goodbye to five years of false love.
I went back to bed. I didn’t sleep all night.
The next day at lunch, my phone screen lit up briefly. Alessio, sitting beside me, glanced over, and his face changed.
“Honey—what card are you applying to cancel?”
I pressed the screen dark without a flicker of emotion. “My bank card’s about to expire. I made an appointment to get it reissued.”
He was about to say something more when his phone rang.
“Honey, something came up at work. I need to go handle it—won’t be here for lunch.”
I nodded. My parents left for the office too. I was alone in the house.
Just as I was getting ready to go out, a friend request notification popped up on my phone.
[Valentina, you heard everything at the hospital yesterday, didn’t you?]
It was Gina.
[Your husband and I have a son together.]
[Even your own biological parents—the moment the doctor said your injuries meant you could no longer have children—immediately decided to protect me. They had Alessio be with me, have a child with me.]
[We’re the real married couple. You’re nothing but a clown.]
[They even set up a company for me. The ribbon-cutting’s in five days—I’m guessing they’ve kept that from you too?]
[I only regret not crippling you sooner. All of this should’ve been mine a long time ago.]
Every sentence pierced like a blade, drawing blood from my heart. So that was why my parents had chosen to protect her.
And why Alessio had willingly been with her.
I screenshotted and saved every message, then dug out my marriage certificate with Alessio.
Beneath his nightstand drawer, I also found the victim’s pardon.
Clutching these documents, I went to see a lawyer.
The lawyer said chat records couldn’t serve as concrete evidence. And a victim’s pardon issued by a family member was equally legally binding.
I asked him to draft a divorce agreement. He frowned and told me the marriage certificate was fake.
The revelation hit me like a thunderbolt. My heart plunged into the abyss.
So Gina hadn’t been wrong. I really was nothing more than a fool they’d played for a clown.
The lawyer’s eyes lit up. Since that was the case, he said, the pardon Alessio had issued held no legal weight. This constituted fraud and harboring a criminal.
Overwhelmed with gratitude, I begged him to draft a formal complaint. After leaving the firm, I took a taxi to a different hospital for a full examination.
When the doctor told me my leg could still be saved, I wept with joy.
He explained that the car accident had caused a blockage in my fallopian tubes, making me infertile—but surgery could clear them. As for the leg fracture, since it hadn’t deteriorated over five years, surgery could restore my ability to walk.
“I can tell your family took good care of you these five years—otherwise, after this long, the leg would definitely have been beyond saving.”
Listening to the doctor’s observation, I felt only desolation.
He had no idea that my family was the very reason I wasn’t supposed to stand again.
No. They weren’t my family anymore.