My Traitorous Body: The Heiress Strikes Back

I cursed my cheating husband with the most vicious words I could muster. Yet, my body betrayed me.

I dropped to my knees, out of control.

My arms locked around his legs like a pathetic, begging dog.

My mind was clear. I knew exactly who I wasa billionaire heiress who could have a legal team freeze every last penny of his assets with a single phone call.

But I was trapped in some twisted nightmare. The moment his manipulative ex walked into the room, my limbs moved on their own, acting out a humiliating script of desperate begging.

Declan glared down at me in disgust, convinced this was just another one of my ploys to get his attention.

He had no idea that every filthy curse spilling from my lips was genuine.

I gritted my teeth.

The second I ripped control of this body back, I swore to take my stilettos and personally crush his egoand the business empire he was so proud of.

Chapter 1

I snapped my eyes open. A splitting headache hit me. Memories flashed across my vision like a high-speed movie reel.

In that moment, the realization hit.

I had crossed over. And I was stuck playing the tragic heroine in a romance novel.

I had no idea which specific book I was trapped in. But the cliches were the same.

Based on my years of reading and the twenty-six years of memories belonging to Cordeliathe original owner of this bodythe setup was obvious. Especially the pathetic flashbacks of her stalking Declan, only for him to treat her like garbage.

I was certain. This was one of those trashy plots where the female lead gets tortured for a hundred chapters, the male lead finally regrets everything, and they magically live happily ever after.

Thankfully, Cordelia was a billionaire heiress sitting on a massive trust fund, not some pathetic Cinderella waiting to be saved. If I wanted, I could have a line of young, gorgeous men wrapping around the block. I couldn't fathom why she wasted a single second on this narcissist.

I lay in bed for hours, processing Cordelia's life like cramming for a final exam. Finally, I threw on some clothes and headed downstairs to find food.

A high-pitched, fake-innocent voice echoed through the living room. "Declan, Camilla and the others already left for the country club. We should go too."

"Alright." His voice was cold, carrying that signature arrogant drawl.

At the sound of my footsteps, they both looked up. The moment Declan saw me, his brow creased.

"Are you ever going to stop?" he demanded. "I'm just getting dinner with an old friend. It won't threaten your status as my wife. Now you're resorting to eavesdropping?"

I froze. I hadn't said a single word. I just came down for a meal and caught a face full of unprovoked hostility.

My throbbing brain connected the dots. Today was the day Declan's ex, Piper, returned to town. Their old circle was throwing her a welcome-home party.

From the second Cordelia heard Piper was coming back, she had paced the floors at night, dropping desperate hints to test if Declan still harbored feelings for his ex. Declan hated the nagging. They fought daily. And every time he blew up, Cordelia would instantly cave and apologize.

From where I stood, Declan's god complex was Cordelia's fault for spoiling him.

"I suggest you get a therapist for that narcissistic personality disorder." I crossed my arms. "I don't care if you get dinner with an old friend. Hell, you two could roll straight to a penthouse suite afterward, and I wouldn't spare you a second glance. Listening to you yell in my house first thing in the morning is a massive eyesore."

The memory of him treating Cordelia like dirt turned my stomach, so I tore into him without holding back.

But then it happened.

My limbs went rogue.

My feet, originally heading for the kitchen, pivoted sharply. They marched me straight toward Declan. My arms lifted against my will. My ten fingers clamped down on his sleeve like mechanical vices.

Cordelia had only ever spoken to him in soft, pleading whispers. Hit with my open disgust for the first time, Declan stood frozen in shock. Then, as my hands locked onto his clothes, a look of smug realization washed over his face.

"Wow, Cordelia. You're actually trying to play hard to get."

"You're not even worth the effort of a scheme. Take a look in the mirror." I spat the words out, but I could physically feel my fingers tightening their desperate grip on his shirt.

I wanted to chop my own hands off. Predictably, Declan didn't buy a single word I said.

He scoffed. "I'm not worth it? Then what exactly is this bitter, clinging housewife act supposed to be?"

Chapter 2

No wonder my facial muscles felt strained. I was wearing an expression of agonizing reluctance to let him go. How the hell was I supposed to convince him I wasn't playing some twisted game of hard-to-get?

"Declan, if Cordelia is this anxious, we should just bring her along. Even though she might kill the mood." Camilla's voice dripped with fake understanding. She was radiating the exact same manipulative, pick-me energy as Piper.

I ground my teeth. Could have done without that last part. But the passive-aggressive guilt trip worked perfectly on Declan.

He aggressively peeled my fingers back, yanking his arm free.

My center of gravity vanished. I hit the floor hard.

But my chest immediately unclenched. I was finally free of him. My knees stung against the hard flooring. Declan just shot me a disgusted glare before turning on his heel and walking out with Camilla.

I rubbed my raw, red fingers. The bastard actually has a violent streak.

My loss of bodily autonomy left a bitter taste in my mouth all afternoon. Before I faced Declan, my movements were entirely my own. Was I being puppeted by the original plot? I didn't even know the rest of the storyline.

But whatever the plot was, I wanted no part of it. I wasn't about to waste my second chance clinging to a lost cause.

Acting on the principle of living in the moment, I booked the top-tier VIP booth at the most exclusive private club downtown. I specifically demanded the hottest young male model they had to keep me company and pour my drinks.

The alcohol hit my bloodstream. Combined with the model practically purring in my ear, my adrenaline spiked.

Just as our lips locked in a heated kiss, the heavy door of the booth shattered open with a loud bang.

My vision blurred. I squinted against the sudden hallway light. Before I could even identify the intruder, the sheer rage in the voice assaulted my ears.

"Cordelia, what the hell are you doing?"

A brutal hand clamped onto my shoulder, violently ripping me from the model's embrace and dragging me against a rigid chest. Declan.

My calf smashed against the sharp edge of the table. Pain shot up my leg. I bared my teeth. The sharp sting radiating up my calf stripped away my last shred of patience.

"Are you blind?" I snapped. "We were kissing. Flirting. Enjoying the perks of being consenting adults. Do I really need to explain to you that human lips have other functions besides spewing lies like yours?"

A loud, mocking whistle echoed from behind him.

I looked past Declan's shoulder. A whole crowd of his and Piper's socialite friends clustered in the doorway. Their eyes gleamed with schadenfreude. Piper's gloating smirk was the sharpest.

"You're drunk," Declan hissed. "Is this your pathetic attempt at revenge? Throwing away your own reputation?"

The bastard's grip was like an iron vice. My wrist felt like it was going to snap under the pressure. Then, that familiar, dreadful sensation washed over me again.

My body rebelled.

It moved closer to him, my hands instinctively reaching up to clutch his shirt. Even without a mirror, I could feel my facial features twisting. Warping into a sickeningly pitiful, desperate expression. The total loss of bodily autonomy felt like a physical blow, locking my jaw until my teeth ached.

"Are you out of your mind, Declan? You hosted her welcome-back party at a club?" My voice lashed out. "The woman you've been obsessing over for years finally returns, and you don't book out a five-star restaurant and head straight to a luxury suite? You're throwing a party here?"

"Even if you two have some weird fetish for clubs, go do your own thing! Why the hell are you barging in here ruining my night?"

I sounded perfectly ruthless and detached. But my face was practically begging him to stay.

"Cordelia," a soft, trembling voice cut in. Piper stepped forward. "Declan and I are just friends. Please don't misunderstand."

Chapter 3

The manipulative pick-me had timed it with precision. Right when my hands were sliding over the model's abs, she texted me a photo of Declan smiling with genuine affection. The resolution was high enough for me to see her reflection in his pupils.

"I didn't misunderstand a thing," I fired back. "Misunderstanding you would be an insult to my own intelligence."

But my pleading expression, combined with Piper's unnecessary defense, only cemented Declan's delusion. He thought I was throwing a tantrum for his attention.

Unwilling to let his friends enjoy the show any longer, Declan locked his grip on my arm and dragged me out.

My traitorous body didn't even put up a fight. I didn't get to tip my terrified model.

The second the front door slammed shut, he hauled me straight into the master bathroom and ordered me to scrub myself clean. I barely stepped out of the steam before he shoved me backward. My spine hit the mattress. He pinned both my wrists above my head.

"Don't ever pull a cheap stunt like that again, Cordelia," he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. "It's disgusting."

Then he crashed his mouth against mine.

If I was so disgusting, why was he kissing me?

My cursed body went limp, submitting to his weight. But he couldn't control my mouth.

"What's wrong, Declan?" I mocked against his lips. "Did Piper not put out tonight? Is that why you're crawling back here to stroke your ego?"

His jaw tightened.

"Are you just a breeding stallion running on instinct? Is this forced-entry routine what you do with Piper, too? I didn't realize you had such specific kinks. Sex requires mutual consent. If you actually want to get me off, you need to learn how to beg for it. I guarantee my tastes in bed are a lot higher than Piper's."

No matter how much my body arched into his touch, my mouth didn't stop tearing him apart. The verbal assault worked.

I felt the exact moment his arousal died.

Declan glanced down at himself, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He rolled off me. He yanked the comforter up and turned his back, staring at the wall in dead silence.

His fragile male ego flatlined. I could have thrown a parade.

For the next few days, Declan placed me under house arrest. He dragged me to his private hospital for a battery of tests. When my physical and psychological panels came back normal, his scowl deepened. He refused to accept it.

He dug up some hack therapist from a strip mall who fired off a list of leading questions. The quack finally diagnosed me with extreme emotional rebellion caused by years of unrequited investment. In other words, I was acting out. I sneered at the spineless doctor.

But Declan looked satisfied with that answer. He actually seemed to reflect on it. With the tone of a king handing out bread to a peasant, he announced he would work from home for a few days to keep me company. A reward, so I would stop throwing tantrums.

He relocated his home office. And right on cue, Piper started showing up at my front door every single morning, dressed to the nines. I forgot to mention, Piper was now Declan's executive assistant.

Declan's excuse was textbook. She had just moved back to the States and needed to readjust to the corporate environment. He claimed she was competent and he was prepping her for a major promotion. It was the oldest cliche in the book.

Piper checked in bright and early every day, flashing a radiant smile before disappearing into the study with my husband. They called it working. I had zero interest in whatever cheap romance novel they were playing out behind closed doors. We ate breakfast together. We ate lunch together. We ate dinner together. It was a domestic three-person household.

The only thing missing was a shared California King bed.

Chapter 4

Occasionally, when Declan wasn't around, Piper would throw her weight around. She'd drop little provocations like, "He loves me," or "If you were smart, you'd back out now." Zero creativity. I couldn't care less.

The only thing I cared about was when I would get full control of my own damn body back.

I let out a breath and stood up to get some water. As I turned, fingers wrapped around my wrist and gave it a slight tilt.

Crash. The glass shattered across the floor.

A massive wet stain soaked through Piper's clingy dress, making the outline of her lace underwear completely visible. She shot me a smug glare.

The second the study door clicked open, her face morphed instantly.

"Cordelia, I really just view Declan as a friend. If you're this upset, I can quit. I don't want to ruin your marriage."

Same old formula. Same pathetic act.

Declan strode over, his jaw tight with annoyance. I cut him off before he could speak.

"I know, you're going to call me hysterical again, right?" I pivoted to Piper. "And you. Are you going to say I didn't mean it? That you accidentally knocked the glass out of my hand, and I wasn't intentionally trying to drench you?"

I whipped my head back to Declan. "And then are you going to tell her not to cover for me, because you 'know exactly what kind of woman I am'?"

Declan choked on his words. I had completely stolen his script.

Piper's pick-me skills were top-tier. Her face snapped into a gentle, forgiving smile as she widened her innocent eyes. "Cordelia, how could you think of me like that?"

Being trapped in this pathetic, deeply-in-love housewife role ground my nerves to dust. Being trapped in a body I couldn't control had me on a hair-trigger. Piper's passive-aggressive bullshit was the match.

I grabbed the cup of scalding black tea from the table and splashed it directly onto Piper's expensive heels and bare feet.

"Ah! It burns!" Piper shrieked, jumping around like a panicked monkey.

I spun and hurled the empty cup straight at Declan's chest. It bounced off him and shattered on the tiles.

The adrenaline wasn't enough.

I grabbed a stack of ceramic plates and launched them at him like frisbees.

Seeing my sudden violent outburst, Declan completely forgot about his precious, whimpering assistant. He lunged at me, pinning my wrists. "Are you insane?"

I kicked his shins and twisted my arms. "Yeah, I'm insane! So what? Are you"

My peripheral vision caught the shattered porcelain on the floor. I froze.

What did I just do?

I attacked Declan?

I can attack Declan!

Declan still held my right hand hostage. Slowly, testing the waters, I raised my left hand.

Smack. The impact threw Declan's face to the side.

The sharp sting on my palm was the best thing I had felt in days.

I put my entire shoulder into it and delivered a second, deafening slap that echoed through the massive living room.

"I can hit you. I can finally hit you!"

Declan stared at me, absolute shock written across his rapidly reddening cheek. Piper's jaw hit the floor, completely forgetting the burning pain on her feet