wake up married 1

“Natalie, as you wish. Let’s get divorced.” The words sliced through the silence of the ICU. A signed divorce agreement was shoved across the table toward Natalie Solaria. “We… got married?!” The words slipped from her lips before she could stop them. Her eyes scanned the document, searching for any sign that this was a mistake. The names. The dates. Jonathan Hyperion. The man who had become the whole Regalia city’s living legend. A mind as sharp as a razor, with an ambition that devoured everything in its path. At 18, he’d taken the reins of the Hyperions empire, making him the youngest and most ruthless tycoon the world had ever known. So, six years later, she was his wife? The thought felt absurd. A dream she couldn’t wake up from. She pinched her own cheek hard. The sting was sharp and undeniable. Still dazed by the shock, a small delicate figure approached. A girl, no more than five, her hair pulled into a messy, carefree bun. She tugged at Natalie’s sleeve, a voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll be a good girl, I promise. Even if you have to take my blood again. Mommy, can you please not divorce Daddy? Please don’t leave me and Chris … ” The girl’s frail body seemed to tremble with each word, her pale arms marked by bruises and needle marks. Natalie’s mind slammed to a halt. Mommy? Six years had passed. And in that time, not only had she married Jonathan, but they had a daughter? She tried to piece it together—she remembered a reunion, a violent chase by a serial killer, then darkness. When she woke up, it was six years later. She was Mrs. Hyperion. And she was a mother. None of it made sense. It was … impossible. Impossibly dreamlike. She really liked it! “Sweetheart, who did this to you?” Natalie’s voice was soft, yet firm as she took the little girl’s hand, her touch gentle but protective. At 18, she wasn’t sure how to be a mother. But there was one thing she knew—She’d make those who hurt her child pay the price. Who messed with my sweet girl? I can’t let this go! Yvonne Hyperion looked up at her with wide, tear-filled eyes. This was the first time her mother had spoken to her with such tenderness. “Don’t touch my sister!” Christopher Hyperion stepped forward, his face tight with anger, his posture a wall between them. He glared at Natalie, his words sharp. “What’s your game? All of Eve’s injuries are all your fault!” Natalie’s brow furrowed. “Me? How could that be?” Sure, she’d been spoiled, maybe a little arrogant, and yes, her temper was bad. But she’d never—never—hurt her own child. Christopher sneered, his words bitter. “What wouldn’t you do for that ridiculous man? You had Eve give her blood for his, and now you want to use Eve’s bone marrow to save his kid?” “Natalie, you don’t deserve to be a mother.” “Chris, don’t say that about Mommy.” Yvonne’s voice trembled with fear. She clung to the softness of Natalie’s touch, terrified that the warm, gentle version of her mother would slip away. Tears streamed down Yvonne’s face as she sobbed, clutching Natalie’s hand with desperate urgency. “No one made me do it. I did it because I wanted to … As long as Mommy doesn’t jump into the river and … and die … I will do anything for you.” Jonathan moved swiftly, scooping Yvonne into his arms. His hands were gentle as he comforted her, the look in his eyes cold and distant as he turned to Natalie. The disappointment in his gaze pierced deeper than any words could. “Tomorrow, we’ll go to the city hall. We’re filing for divorce.” He had waited, thinking that with enough time, she would return to him. But six years had made it painfully clear. When love was gone, it was gone. No matter how long he waited, her heart had never been his to begin with. It belonged to Jacques Fourside. Jonathan left with the children, walking away without a second glance. Natalie stood there, motionless; the silence around her swallowed everything. She had no idea what had happened in the past six years, but the person she had become was unmistakable—a cruel version of herself. Natalie’s mind raced. She needed answers. With shaking hands, she grabbed her phone, scrolling through her contacts. The only name that stood out was Jacques. She hesitated for only a moment before dialing her best friend’s number. The phone rang, echoing in the empty room. Half an hour later, Gianna Wood arrived, sharp and composed in a black suit. Her eyes narrowed as she entered, sizing up the situation immediately. “Anna!” “Social distance, lady.” Gianna’s voice was icy, her eyes narrowing as she stepped back, pushing Natalie away. The last time they’d spoken, everything had fallen apart. A man had torn them apart, and Natalie had become the enemy. Forgotten. Cast aside. But now, Natalie had called her. Had embraced her. It felt wrong. “I’m Natalie. The 18-year-old Natalie.” Anyone else would’ve laughed it off, called her crazy, but Gianna didn’t. She saw the truth. The 18-year-old Natalie had been untouchable. She was an old-money heiress. Proud, confident, and always above everyone else. The 24-year-old Natalie was nothing like that. Broken. Ashamed. A shadow of herself. “Anna, what happened in these six years?” Desperation gripped Natalie’s voice, each word heavier than the last. She had to know. How had she ended up married to Jonathan? What had she done to make her own children fear and hate her so much? From Gianna’s words, Natalie pieced together the shattered fragments of the last six years. “So, let me get this straight—I became some love-sick idiot? I gave away the Solaria Group for a man. And he cheated on me. Ran off with his first love and had a kid with her.” “And then, I didn’t just forgive him. I forced my daughter to donate blood for his kid?” The shock hit her like a punch to the gut. She could barely wrap her head around it. “What was I even thinking?” Why would she let go of someone like Jonathan, a perfect man with power and status, just to go after some mediocre, broke guy? Gianna rolled her eyes, her expression stone-cold. “Search me. At one point, I honestly wondered if Jacques had hexed you.” “You went as far as threatening to kill yourself just to make sure Eve donated bone marrow to save Jacques’ kid. Your girl’s barely five!” “And then, after all that chaos, Jonathan finally filed for divorce.” … In the polished, towering lobby of the Hyperions’ place, a white suitcase was shoved in front of Natalie, the sound of the wheels scraping harshly against the marble floor. “Take your stuff. Go back to your precious bad guy.” Christopher’s words cut through the air, his arms crossed tightly, posture cold and unyielding. “Chris, don’t make Mommy leave.” Yvonne’s voice cracked with the weight of her plea. Her eyes welled with tears. The little girl truly believed that once her mother left, she wouldn’t come back. The suitcase, too large for Yvonne, was clutched tightly in her tiny arms. Her round, innocent eyes glistened with tears, threatening to spill as she gazed up at Natalie, silently begging. “Mommy, please don’t go.” Christopher yanked his sister back with a harsh pull. “She doesn’t care about us! She only sheds tears for that bad guy! Don’t beg for her mercy!” His voice was venomous, laced with bitterness. Jonathan’s voice sliced through the tension, steady and commanding. “Mrs. Wahlberg, take Chris and Eve back to their room.” Once the children were taken out of the room by the housekeeper, Jonathan handed Natalie a thick file. Inside were deeds for eight properties scattered across different cities, a collection of luxury cars that gleamed like trophies, and stocks worth 150 million. It was more than enough for Natalie to live a lifetime of excess. “This is your divorce settlement,” Jonathan said flatly. “If everything’s in order, just sign the agreement.” His tone was as cold as his eyes, drained of any emotion. Natalie stared at the papers, her mind struggling to make sense of it all. What has happened to my six years down the line? He’s so perfect. After all the cruelty I put him through these six years, he still gives me a huge settlement when we divorce. Is there a better man out there? Why did I ever waste myself on Jacques? She picked up the pen, her fingers trembling, then hesitated. She put the pen back down, her gaze lifting to meet Jonathan’s, his cold, indifferent expression mocking her. “Honey, I’m hungry.” The words came out softer than anyone had expected. Anyone but her, of course. Jonathan froze, his eyes widening in disbelief. “What did you call me?” His voice cracked, his composure faltering for the first time. For six years, she had looked at him with nothing but hatred, spat out words meant to drive him away. The most she’d ever said to him was a cold, dismissive “leave.” And now? Now she was calling him “honey.” His shock was palpable, his world momentarily upended. “Honey,” she repeated, her voice light, almost teasing. “Even if we’re getting a divorce tomorrow, today, you’re still my husband.” Jonathan’s gaze, once stormy, settled back into a calm, emotionless mask. What was he waiting for? Did he hope she’d change for him? The cruel truth was, she would only change for Jacques. “Natalie, stop fooling yourself. I won’t agree to using Eve’s bone marrow to save Jacques’ daughter.” His voice was firm and final, as if her every move was nothing more than a game to win Jacques back. Natalie opened her mouth, but the words didn’t come. Before she could even try to explain, Jonathan was already on his feet, his back to her as he walked away. A heavy sigh escaped her, and she let her chin drop onto the table. Gianna’s advice echoed in her mind. “Oh, the whole city knows he loves you dearly. Lower your head and calm him down now, and I promise he won’t divorce you.” Her thoughts flickered to Jonathan’s cold, distant eyes and the sharp hostility in her son’s gaze. Another sigh slipped from her lips. “He’s just not that easy to calm—” Her words never finished. A steaming plate of spaghetti bolognese appeared before her. Natalie’s gaze shot up, surprise lighting her face as her eyes met Jonathan’s. His presence filled the room, his strong jawline cutting through the dim light, casting everything else in shadow. Whether it was the youthful, fiery Jonathan or the composed, authoritative man before her now, she couldn’t deny he still had the power to stop her in her tracks. “Eat, then leave.” His words were blunt, almost dismissive, like he couldn’t wait to see her go. Before she could process what was happening, the phone rang. Jonathan stood, his unreadable eyes never leaving her as he turned and walked toward the garden to take the call. About 20 minutes later, Jonathan returned. His gaze swept over the room without hesitation. The hall was pristine. No broken plates, no disorder. The spaghetti bolognese was gone—empty plate, clean, every bite consumed. On the sofa, Natalie lay curled up, breathing evenly, her face soft in slumber. The peacefulness in her expression made her even more striking. For a moment, Jonathan’s focus slipped. The scene before him felt surreal, like a dream he’d replayed countless times. The Natalie he remembered would have hurled his food back at him, calling him “disgusting” and “delusional.” He grabbed a blanket, moving quietly as he draped it over her sleeping form. His eyes lingered on her for a moment longer, full of repressed emotion. “You almost made me fall for you again, Nat. Nice trick. Guess you’ll always come out on top here.” … Natalie slept soundly, unaware of the world around her. But a loud voice cut through her dreams. She blinked awake, her son Christopher standing over her, his eyes red with anger, his small fists clenched tightly. “Natalie, where did you hide Eve?” Before she could respond, Christopher shoved a piece of paper into her hand. The note, in Yvonne’s shaky handwriting, read, “Chris, I won’t let Mommy leave Daddy or leave us. I am going to save our little family!”