The Substitute Bride Who Stole the Alpha's Cold Heart

For eighteen years, the Sinclair family kept me locked in their attic, treating me worse than a stray dog while their precious daughter lived like a princess.

Then, they suddenly barged into my room with a desperate demand: I had to take her place and marry Alpha Brandon Ewing.

He was known across the Dominion as a disfigured, crippled monster who would undoubtedly torture and kill a wolfless Omega like me within a week.

The Sinclairs didn't care. They planned to let me die, then extort his pack for compensation in the name of grief.

When I arrived at the Alpha's magnificent estate, his staff immediately tried to humiliate me.

"Latecomers must enter through the servants' passage," the head housekeeper sneered, pointing to a rusted dog door.

The elite guests laughed, waiting for me to break down in tears and crawl on my knees.

They all thought I was just a pathetic sacrifice, a weak pawn meant to be broken and discarded by everyone.

But they had no idea who they were dealing with.

I didn't cry. Instead, I calmly extorted twenty million dollars from the Sinclairs, walked up to the Alpha's impenetrable iron gates, and ripped a one-ton granite statue from the ground.

With a single swing, I smashed their grand entrance to pieces.

I stepped over the ruins, ready to show my terrifying new husband exactly what kind of beast he had just married.